Chapter 422: Unexpected Counterattack

422. Unexpected Counterattack (1)

“Are you okay?!”

The Flesh Cook swung his arm, now sprouting scales and claws, while asking.

Oliver utilized his Dagger, Emotion Robe, and Black Suit to the fullest, blocking, deflecting, and evading the attacks.

It certainly wasn’t easy.

“Got you.”

The Flesh Cook, in a flurry of attacks, grabbed Oliver’s Emotion Robe with his inhuman arm, raising his opposite hand to strike.

Though the attack was simple, the Flesh Cook’s superhuman body made it a dangerous threat, so Oliver quickly activated his Blood Magic.

[Impalement]

Right before the Flesh Cook could thrust his arm, Oliver cast the spell.

The pool of rotten blood on the ground gathered into a single point, forming a massive stake that shot up from below, aiming at the Flesh Cook’s arm.

However, thanks to his beyond-human physique, the arm was not impaled, nor was it even wounded.

At most, it momentarily interrupted the movement.

His body was truly terrifying.

Impalement was known for its physical power among Blood Magic, yet he withstood it bare-handed.

It felt like fighting a completely different creature.

‘But, at his core, he’s still human…’

Oliver swung his Dagger, cutting off part of the robe that the Flesh Cook had grabbed.

Once free from the Flesh Cook’s grip, Oliver retreated a few steps, then activated Ptah’s Assistant.

He created a mechanical arm with magic and covered it with the robe, driving it towards the Flesh Cook like a black hand.

A hand powerful enough to crush buildings in one blow.

“Hmph!”

Just as the black hand formed by Oliver lunged at him, the Flesh Cook sneered, channeling dark magic into his fist, then striking forward.

Boom━━!!

The already fearsome fist of the Flesh Cook held the power of a cannon, slicing through Oliver’s black hand in an instant.

The overwhelming force caused Oliver to stumble, indirectly taking significant damage.

The Flesh Cook took the opportunity to rush in, preparing to strike Oliver again.

But Oliver, quicker by a step, disrupted the Flesh Cook’s movement with his robe, then counterattacked with blades of blood.

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

The Flesh Cook laughed leisurely, despite being hit by dozens of blood blades.

None of them could penetrate the Flesh Cook’s body.

All they managed to do was delay him by 1 or 2 seconds.

Taking advantage of the gap, Oliver concentrated and compressed as much emotion as he could into his Dagger, then swung it at the Flesh Cook.

Slash━━!!

This time, it had an effect.

He managed to leave a small wound on the Flesh Cook’s chest.

But the cost was great.

[Muddy Blood]

[Red Mold]

[Rotten Mist]

[Parasitic Mushroom]

[Corruption Fly]

While Oliver was focused on attacking, the Flesh Cook took advantage of his weakened defense, chanting five Death Magic spells focused on disease and debilitation.

The already putrid blood became murkier, blooming with red mold, and infected mist, mushrooms, and contaminated flies spread throughout the City.

“…!!”

Oliver, who launched an aggressive offensive to escape the pain of starvation, was directly hit by the Flesh Cook’s dark magic.

His focus on offense had left his defense vulnerable.

The Flesh Cook’s mist pierced through Oliver’s robe, causing immense pain in his respiratory system and eyes, while the parasitic mushroom clung to his Black Suit, trying to erode his skin. At the same time, the decayed fly gnawed on his robe.

Feeling unbearable pain as if his body no longer belonged to him, Oliver hastily used Devouring Fire to burn away the mist, mushrooms, and flies.

Although it consumed a significant amount of emotion, there was no other way.

Thinking it was a good opportunity, Oliver expanded Devouring Fire, trying to attack the Flesh Cook using the poison and blood as fuel.

At that moment, the Flesh Cook created a French Knife from blood and swung it full force at Oliver.

The Devouring Fire was sliced in half.

Exhausted and starving, Oliver hurriedly swung his Dagger to clumsily defend himself.

“You really are tenacious.”

Though Oliver failed to fully block the attack, he was sent flying. The Flesh Cook spoke, watching him crash into the distance.

Struggling to his feet in the rotten ocean of blood, Oliver opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry… I promised not to get hurt…”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The Flesh Cook commented, observing Oliver’s condition.

It made sense, given that Oliver was in a terrible state.

He was soaked in rotten blood again, his condition worsened by disease-based Death Magic as mushrooms clung to his body.

But the most serious issue was, ironically, his starvation sickness.

A basic form of disease-weakening Death Magic.

This initial Death Magic spell, deeply rooted in the Flesh Cook’s emotions, was not easily neutralized and continued to eat away at Oliver.

What started as mild hunger now led to unbearable cravings, consuming Oliver’s nutrients, eating away at his flesh and muscle.

Despite his claim of not being injured, both inside and out, Oliver was in a state beyond repair.

Oliver was well aware of this. Nevertheless, he steeled himself and spoke.

To carry out the mission, keep his promise, and satisfy his curiosity.

“I’ll learn from this… and be more careful next time… I promised.”

The intense hunger caused Oliver to speak haltingly. The Flesh Cook questioned him.

“Do you think there will be a next time for you?”

“Who knows… There are many possibilities in this world… Are you alright? Using disease-based Death Magic while injured?”

Oliver pointed to the faint cut on the Flesh Cook’s chest.

From his desperate attack, he managed to create a small wound. The Flesh Cook vaguely understood what the question meant.

Disease-based Death Magic was more infectious and lethal to those already injured or exhausted.

The Flesh Cook replied.

“Oh… Busy trying to survive, yet you’re worried about me?”

“More than worry… I’m curious and impressed. Using disease-based Death Magic so recklessly… Isn’t it dangerous? Especially when you’re wounded.”

Fighting off the weakening effects of starvation, Oliver asked.

Indeed, disease-based Death Magic was notoriously difficult and risky to use.

Even though it was created with dark magic, a disease doesn’t distinguish between friend and foe.

In other words, the user themselves could also be infected by their own disease-based Death Magic.

The Flesh Cook answered.

“You’re really curious, aren’t you! Amazing. By now, you must be starving, yet you ask something like that… I’m fine. Because I’ve built up resistance to the disease-based Death Magic I created. Especially those using blood as a medium.”

Blood. Oliver instinctively focused on that keyword.

He was too hungry to even think of a specific reason; it was just a gut feeling.

Meanwhile, the Flesh Cook slowly decided to end the game, approaching Oliver.

Though he had fought well enough, that was his limit, so there was no need to continue. His body couldn’t take it anymore.

As Oliver’s body continued to waste away from parasitic mushrooms, decayed flies, and various diseases, Oliver spoke.

“…Flesh Cook.”

“You don’t have the energy to talk anymore, so stop speaking.”

Now that he had decided to end it, the Flesh Cook casually dismissed Oliver’s words.

But the next words could not be ignored, even by him.

No, they could be ignored even less because he was the Flesh Cook.

“You approached Lady Bathory… Because of that, didn’t you?”

Stop.

Unconsciously, the Flesh Cook froze.

At that moment, Oliver saw it— the Flesh Cook’s feelings toward Lady Bathory.

Amid the storm of anger, hatred, and greed, there was a thin, different thread of emotion.

Though smaller, it undeniably existed and was quite beautiful.

Fascinated, Oliver delved deeper into that emotion, forgetting his own hunger and curiosity.

“Oh… So, it is true… You approached Lady Bathory to compensate for the weaknesses of disease-based Death Magic using Blood Magic…”

Oliver now understood why the Flesh Cook, who rarely used Blood Magic, approached Lady Bathory.

However, that wasn’t the only point of interest.

“But what’s fascinating… Lady Bathory also had similar feelings towards the Flesh Cook, yet you harbored feelings of nostalgia, attachment, and memories for her. While Lady Bathory also had resentment and anger.”

“Hey…”

“I didn’t understand before, but now it makes sense.”

“…”

“Lady Bathory thought of her daughters and disciples as mere possessions, but not with you… She harbored both resentment and anger towards you… Initially, I couldn’t comprehend how that was possible, given that you were likely enemies. But seeing how you feel towards her, I think I understand. You, too, feel━”

━S-Slash!!!

Before Oliver could finish, the Flesh Cook swung the blood-made French Knife in a wide arc, aiming to cut him.

Oliver tried to block with the Quarterstaff and Dagger, but due to his depleted emotions, weakened magic, hunger, and disease, he failed to defend effectively.

Falling once more onto the ocean of blood proved it.

The Flesh Cook approached coldly, his anger evident.

“I was originally going to preserve you, dipped in disease, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll amputate your limbs and hang you on a line. I’ll rip out your tongue too.”

As he stood amidst the rotting sea of blood, Oliver slowly rose and responded. The diseases continued to penetrate his body, intensifying the hunger.

“Is this… for your sister?”

“…”

“It must be… Betraying Lady Bathory, causing this terror in the City… All for your sister.”

Oliver confirmed this as he observed Gretel atop the Mechanical Tower.

Though his physical and mental condition had deteriorated to the extreme, paradoxically, his focus and obsession with reading emotions had reached the limit, granting him surprising insight.

The Flesh Cook, who had previously been relentlessly attacking Oliver, suddenly felt like his hidden secret was exposed and charged at Oliver, furious.

Determined not to let him speak anymore.

At that moment, Oliver, who was becoming emaciated from hunger and illness, activated a pool of blood with Blood Magic.

A Blood Magic that allows one to move through blood as a medium.

“Kyaaaa!!!”

As soon as Oliver activated the blood pool, the blood sea began to boil, and nine corpse dolls emerged.

The Flesh Cook was startled as the Corpse Doll—Bathory, adorned in her iconic mask and vest, and her eight female necromancer disciples, shot up from below, raising their claws to grab him and using the blood wings on their backs to drag him into the sky.

Though the Flesh Cook possessed a body beyond human limits, this unexpected attack left him completely off guard, unable to counter.

“It seems there’s more to it than just that…”

Amidst his wavering consciousness, Oliver noticed Father’s sadness as he stared at the Corpse Doll—Bathory.

He looked deeply sorrowful.

“…What kind of trick is this?!”

The Flesh Cook, consumed by fury, shouted to cover his sadness.

Then, he violently shook off the hands of the eight Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls dragging him through the air.

Even the Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls were not weak, but they couldn’t compare to him.

Knowing this, the First commanded them not to engage in a power struggle but to create distance and attack him while he was exposed mid-air.

Slice━━━━!!

At the moment when Father was about to focus a Blood Magic attack on him, wings resembling a dragon sprouted from the Flesh Cook’s back, slicing through the air.

With the force of this attack, it wouldn’t be surprising if everything within range was cut apart.

“It’s fortunate… that I enhanced them with Theodore’s flesh beforehand.”

Oliver observed the Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls avoiding the Flesh Cook’s strike.

Though they couldn’t completely dodge, losing some arms and legs, they still functioned well despite the unexpected blow.

This confirmed a crucial point.

Injecting strong pieces of flesh into a Corpse Doll greatly enhanced its performance.

“The effectiveness and efficiency may vary based on the entity… I’ll need to experiment to determine this.”

Oliver mentally noted this while keeping an eye on the situation above.

The Flesh Cook was surprised that the Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls and the Corpse Doll—Bathory managed to avoid his attack, but quickly decided to flee by spreading his wings wide.

It was a wise move.

Despite his overwhelming physique, being surrounded by a well-coordinated Blood Mage was anything but pleasant.

Especially when mid-air, where the range of attacks could expand.

The First noticed this, commanding the Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls to create a prison of blood spikes to imprison the Flesh Cook.

“You insolent fools…!”

The Flesh Cook unleashed his wings and blood-made French Knife, easily destroying the blood prison.

There was no stopping him from rushing directly toward the Corpse Doll—Bathory.

Oliver grew curious, wondering if the Flesh Cook’s approach to Bathory was purely strategic or motivated by something else.

“Well, either way, it’s fortunate things are going according to plan.”

While Oliver mumbled to himself, a bright blue flash lit up from a distant building, and a massive mana projectile flew in, striking the Flesh Cook hard.

It was an attack from a ranged support Corpse Doll, previously moved to the building’s roof through portal magic.

The Corpse Doll had six legs, six arms, three trunks, and a massive barrel. It had only been used once before when working with Jonathan from Pinkman to retrieve stolen goods from the Crime Firm.

Despite its challenging operating conditions, its power was undeniable, as evident when its mana bombardment killed even the Flesh Cook’s subordinate with superior regenerative abilities in just one shot.

Buzz━━━!!!

The unique, ear-piercing noise of it.

The mana bombardment scorched the Flesh Cook as it steadily built up energy, finally triggering a massive explosion.

━Boom!!!

The detonation sent a shockwave that blew the surrounding blood mist in all directions.

Oliver didn’t miss the opportunity, pulling out three sheets of Paper from his pocket and sending them flying toward the Flesh Cook.

Even after enduring the powerful mana bombardment, the Flesh Cook tried to tear the paper but was thwarted by Bathory’s interference, allowing the papers to land on him.

At that moment, the Flesh Cook saw it.

Three portals opening, and from them emerging the Corpse Dolls—Duncan, Seamus, and Oliver.

The Corpse Doll—Bathory and the Female Necromancer Corpse Dolls also descended, wings spread, to join Oliver.

“?!! …Do you really think this can hurt me?!”

The Flesh Cook shouted as he fell under the impact of the mana bombardment. It wasn’t mere bravado.

Despite the barrage of attacks, his body had only sustained mere scrapes and burns.

Even against Oliver, Duncan, Seamus, or Bathory’s attacks, it would hardly be different.

But it didn’t matter.

“I need to… descend with you… Flesh Cook.”

Oliver’s weakened voice murmured.

It sounded cryptic, but the Flesh Cook quickly grasped the meaning.

The emotional energy concentrated in the Mechanical Tower, flowing through the underground basement.

“You━!”

The Flesh Cook yelled in confusion, but Oliver remained focused on his task.

“Please, Child.”

“Kyaaaa!!!”

“Kahaha!!!”

“Aaaaargh!!!”