Transmigrated to Game World with SSS Wife-Chapter 78: Path of Annihilation—Bloodpact

[Magnus's PoV]

"Hey! You done smooching with the orc yet?! I'm kind of dying out here!"

"Shut it vakir! Just give me a second." Sylus's voice called from deep within the tavern, clearly agitated.

Magnus sent another blast of fire as he swore under his breath. There were many things he knew Glynt to be, many many things. But a coward dodging a fight just to drink some alcohol? That was entirely new.

'And you chose quite the damned time...

It's not like there isn't an entire damned horde raining hell down on everything!!!"

Even though his fire incinerated the entire surrounding, nothing Magnus did could rival the blood-lusted frenzy of a demonic squire. He stood at the entrance of the tavern, praying to whatever god was left that Glynt would get out of his drunken stupor.

Alone, he knew he could only last maybe 3 minutes. With Sylus and Glynt, they would last around 5 minutes. Hopefully.

'No, no hopefully. We'll last as long as we need to until the civilians evacuate.' That's why they became raiders, after all. They were far too weak to actually become rich off such a job but simultaneously far too strong to truly need the money.

Existing in a cold middle ground where only insanity existed, they raided these middle-rank dungeons for just one reason. If they didn't, who would? No one.

And then when it broke through into their world, civilians would absolutely die.

'Just like they are right now if you don't get your head right! You're not some stupid dwarf that allows your mind to wander. FOCUS!!!'

A command that proved impossible. As he sent out a new stream of extinguishing fire, he couldn't help but glance at the tavern.

...

[Sylus's PoV]

"Are ye fecking deaf? I told ye that demons are swarming outside! People are dying left and right, ye idiot! Get yer self-righteous rear-end out there and do your orc thing!"

Glynt met Sylus's animated request by drowning another bottle of liquor.

Looking around the store, empty glasses littered the entire floor. With all the commotion outside it was evident that Glynt took full advantage of this opportunity. Nobody was there to stop him from drinking, so he was going to drown himself in bottle after bottle.

Even if each drink was a portal into his past—an orc's past.

"Haven't I fought enough?" Glynt asked, almost completely uninterested. The only reason he spoke at all was because his glass was empty.

Again.

The orc threw the bottle to the side before standing up. Unable to do even such a simple task without placing his arm on the counter, he began the slow and arduous journey to the other side of the counter.

Bang!

Sylus punched the desk so hard that it split, creating thousands of cracks in the otherwise perfectly fine wood. His face a bright vibrant red, he began screaming at his longtime comrade,

"Haven't we all fought enough!! What makes ye special, huh? What allows ye to drink all de wine while we're out here dying! Ye think ye so special cuz ye a dam orc? Ye think that because ye fought a few more battles ye can chicken out here?"

Glynt met this passionate display with nothing more than a huff and grabbing another wine bottle. Sylus wasn't discouraged, even though he lowered his voice to speak more logically.

"We never fought no battles cuz we wanted te. We fought em cuz people needed saving. That's all that matters. Not whether we want to fight or not. I could give a dam if you've fought in one battle or a million, lest you out there putting yer life on the line yer a damned coward and that's that!"

Sylus stood still for just a moment, hoping that anything he said had reached the orc's stupid ears.

For a second he stared at the bottle and then back at the shelf. Then he uncorked it, turned to Sylus and asked, "Are you done? Because I know I am." Taking in a huge gulp of wine, Glynt did his best to become so inebriated he could hear the screams of civilians as laughter.

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Frustrated but knowing there was nothing he could say, Sylus simply shook his head in disgust before leaving the tavern, determined to do the most he could.

...

[Nick's PoV]

"You would try so hard to save these weaklings? You, a Progenitor? How weak you must be in comparison to those I've faced before."

A haunting smile crept on Dyr's face, one that touched the ears and even went past and yet still didn't hold a trace of anything besides malice.

Nick narrowed his eyes as he blocked another strike of blood, trying to find out what exactly was going on.

[Perk: Farseeing Eyes resisted. Target's Int is too high in comparison with the player]

'Great.'

The blood spikes gave Nick a little more time to consider how much of an uphill battle he was facing. All he needed to know was right in front of him anyway:

Some sort of dark cloud behind Dyr drew in the blood of his squires. Thankfully, it appeared that he couldn't do anything to the civilians–unless he simply didn't want to just yet.

From this cloud, with a wave of his hand, he could summon any kind of weapon and send it flying. All around, it appeared to be a simple yet dark power. Nick couldn't shake the idea that he was hiding some part of the power though.

'Oh well.' Nick thought as he sent another array of spikes Nick's way. These were easily deflected, much to Dyr's delight.

With another wave of his hand, he transformed his squires into 8 more spikes and sent those flying at Nick. His movement a blur, Nick blocked these as well.

Then Dyr smiled as he waved his hand: another barrage.

Nick was breathing heavily, already feeling signs of fatigue from his earlier battle against the squires.

"Here is where you die and I add you to my collection, human." With his unnaturally wide smile, Dyr sent another collection of spikes in Nick's direction.