Chapter 70: "I'll Kill Him Myself!"

Aside from the bald-headed Kevin, these two—Shalba, the brawny brute, and the cunning Kato—were his closest friends among the guards! Watching them being tied up on the spot, Shalba's wounds were bad enough, but Kato's were far worse. An arrow had pierced straight through his chest, and his left arm hung limp and useless, clearly slashed and perhaps even broken.

Behind the pair stood a few more cavalrymen. Judging by their attire, they weren’t from the personal guard—most likely Butler’s men.

Anxiety surged in Shaya’s heart, his pulse pounding wildly. He watched as Shalba and Kato were dragged before the priest, the Odin warriors shoving them to their knees. Shalba tried to resist, but after several vicious kicks, he too was forced down. The gaunt priest stood before the captives, inspecting them one by one before stopping at the end of the line before a Byzantine cavalryman.

Every one of these riders from the Thirteenth Legion was a hardened man; not one begged for mercy. Their faces were resolute, and they glared coldly at the priest. But when the priest let out a chilling cackle and drew something from a pouch at his waist, even the bravest captives turned pale. Even Shalba, the boldest among them, revealed a flicker of sickened terror in his eyes.

It was a small worm, silver all over and glimmering with threads of green light, as if it glowed from within—about the length of a finger. The priest pinched the creature delicately, then seized the Byzantine cavalryman’s jaw with his other hand, forcing his mouth open. The rider clamped his teeth shut, but an Odinman stabbed him brutally with a dagger. Crying out in pain, the rider’s mouth opened, and the priest immediately shoved the worm inside!

The Byzantine’s face contorted, his body stiffening in shock as green mist gushed from his nose and a sickly green hue spread over his skin. In moments, he closed his eyes for good, but then a bulge rose on his forehead—something squirming beneath the skin. With a wet pop, his skull burst open, and the green worm erupted from his head!

Looking through the gaping hole, the man’s skull was entirely hollowed out—his brains vanished, and the worm was now twice its original size, clearly having devoured the man’s mind! Its green glow intensified, its bloated body writhing as the priest scooped it up with delight.

The priest’s face was alight with excitement and satisfaction as he held the fattened worm.

“Hey, Kato, you’ve seen more than I have—what the hell are these damned Odinmen doing?” Shalba swallowed hard. “Damn it, if I’m caught, then so be it, but this guy…”

Kato’s face was ashen as he forced out a whisper. “Damn it, that’s an Odin priest, stealing our souls! We can’t even die a clean death. Did you see that worm? It devours the brain and swallows the soul! That’s a soul-eater worm! Damn… we’re finished.”

“Damn it!” Shalba’s face twisted in fury. He began to struggle violently, roaring, “Odin bastard—swine, cur, brainless fool! If you’ve got guts, just kill me with a blade!”

The Odin priest rolled the worm between his fingers, then strode slowly to the green pyre. By now, the fire was dwindling, its flames about to die. Even as two of the priest’s assistants feverishly tossed more wood onto the fire, the green flames only dimmed further.

The old priest dropped the worm, engorged on human brain, into the fire. Instantly, the flames surged skyward, consumed by new fuel, leaping three or four meters high, their color a ghastly, unnatural green!

The priest smiled in satisfaction, then reached into the fire and pinched out the worm. When his hand emerged, the worm was unscathed—the burning had not harmed it at all, though its once-bloated body was now slender again, as if the soul it had ingested had been burned away by the fire, leaving the worm itself impervious to the flames.

Clutching the worm, the priest approached the next Byzantine captive—this time, none other than Shalba, who was first in line.

Shaya’s scalp prickled with terror! That worm, burrowing into a man’s mouth, consuming his brain, then bursting from his skull—its appearance was like a maggot from hell, enough to chill one’s very bones.

He’d been stunned by what he saw, frozen in shock. But as the priest withdrew the foul creature from the fire and advanced on Shalba, Shaya snapped back to himself.

At that instant, a fierce battle raged within Shaya’s heart, his will torn in two. Go out there? With so many Odin warriors around, stepping forward was certain death. But if he did nothing, his companions—friends he’d come to cherish for the first time in his eighteen years—would die before his eyes!

His face twisted with anguish. At last, the country bumpkin’s eyes twitched, his fingers clenching tight around his fire fork. He drew a deep breath, hitched up his belt, and leaped from his perch!

Damn it! If I die, then so be it! But to stand by and watch my friends perish—to cower like a turtle in its shell—is something I, Shaya, will never endure!

Shalba had already given in to despair. Brave as he was, the thought of dying with his soul devoured filled him with dread. He squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting death, when suddenly a roar rang out beside him.

He opened his eyes to see a figure leaping from a tree, hair wild, clad in a tattered, bloodstained leather robe, shrieking like a slaughtered pig—who else could it be but that rookie, Shaya?

Shaya’s sudden, heaven-sent arrival sparked hope in Shalba and Kato! Both elite Byzantine warriors, they fought to their feet, hurling themselves back at their Odin captors.

As Shaya landed, he rolled and lunged straight for the priest! He knew full well that fighting all these enemies head-on meant certain death; his only chance was to seize the high-ranking Odin priest.

His movements were swift—he was on the priest in an instant, reaching for him. A fearsome roar sounded beside him. Danger swept over him like a wave, every hair standing on end. Pure instinct made Shaya duck and throw himself to the ground.

That reflex saved his life! With a whoosh, a massive claw swept over his head. Shaya rolled forward and turned to see a half-beast warrior, as huge as a bear, looming before him. The giant hand swung, and Shaya could only block with his fire fork.

With a crack, the sharp fork sliced the enemy’s hand in two, one severed paw flying free.

But the impact made Shaya grunt, forcing him back three steps. Though his fork was undamaged, the hand gripping it throbbed with pain—such was the monstrous strength of the bear-soul warrior that even Shaya, with his own unnatural might, struggled to withstand it.

The other bear-soul warriors closed in, but several gray shadows flitted ahead—the wolf-soul warriors, swifter than the bears, darted to block Shaya’s path.

So fast! Shaya’s scalp tingled with fear. He flung himself backward as a wolf-soul warrior’s claws swept past, grazing his scalp, landing on all fours like a beast, then turning to snarl at him.

(Damn, they’re not even human anymore!) Shaya cursed inwardly, feeling a burning pain on his face. Wiping his hand, it came away bloody—the wolf-soul’s claws hadn’t struck directly, but the brush of their tips had still split his skin.

Damn it, and my body’s been toughened with dragon’s blood!

More wolf-soul warriors charged. Shaya steeled his heart—(All or nothing!)

He threw his arms wide and barreled straight into one, bracing his chest for the wolf-soul’s claws.

Shalba and Kato stared in shock—was this rookie trying to die? Exposing his vitals to the enemy’s attack?

With a crash, Shaya collided with the wolf-soul. Its claws struck his chest, and two sharp cracks rang out. Shaya brought the wolf-soul down, a sudden realization striking him.

He’d gambled right! Their attacks were fierce, but they still couldn’t pierce dragon scale! Shaya always wore a basin-sized dragon scale against his chest as a shield.

He also confirmed: these wolf-soul warriors, while swift, were nowhere near as strong as the bear-souls. Their speed was terrifying, but their power was much less. In essence, they were like enhanced tundra hunters.

Landing hard, Shaya gripped the wolf-soul in both hands. With its claws broken on his dragon scale, he seized the moment and, with a twist, snapped its neck.

He swung the corpse in a mighty arc, smashing it into a bear-soul warrior, sending the brute staggering—Shaya’s strength was at least a match for theirs! The bear-soul toppled sideways, crashing straight into the blazing green pyre.

A shriek of agony tore through the air as the bear-soul’s body was engulfed in green flames. He rolled desperately on the ground, but the fire would not die. In moments, his swollen, powerful physique shriveled to nothing, as if some inner force were consumed to ash.

The other beast-soul warriors shrank back in terror—Shaya saw it instantly: they feared the green fire!

By now, the gaunt priest had fled a dozen paces, shouting for help. In the distance, shouts and cries answered as waves of Odin warriors surged from the woods.

Shaya spun and hurled his fire fork at the priest. With a thud, it pierced the priest’s thigh, pinning him to the ground. Shaya wheeled and charged him, ignoring a wolf-soul warrior that clawed at his back, tearing away a chunk of armor and scoring deep wounds, though the blow was lessened by the beast’s lesser strength.

He reached the priest, yanked up his fire fork, and, paying no heed to the man’s screams, seized him by the throat, pressing the fork against his neck. Turning to the encircling Odin warriors, Shaya roared:

“Take one step closer and I’ll kill him!”