Chapter 8: Ugly

Come on, ugly. Come get some.

Lucian slammed his hammer against his shield, the clang of metal echoing through the clearing. The creature hovered above Raven’s body, its maniacal grin unfaltering as it shrieked at the pair of them. Droplets of blood dripped from its maw, splattering onto Raven’s unmoving form.

Is she okay? No way one hit took her out just like that, right? Lucian flicked open his [Menu], keeping his eyes on the monster while navigating to the [Party Status] tab. If Raven was still breathing, the system would tell him.

[Party Status]

[Party Members]

[Lucian Nyx]

HP: 20/20

Mana: 17/17

[Raven Vespertine]

HP: 0/16

Mana: 25/25

[Hugh Trevatt]

HP: 17/17

Mana: 20/20

She’s already at zero?! Lucian’s stomach twisted. He knew combat in this world would be brutal—he’d learned that lesson the hard way—but sixteen points of damage from a single hit? That was beyond anything he had expected.

A sudden force wrenched his body sideways. His shield yanked itself across his torso, dragging his left arm with it. The motion was so abrupt, so unnatural, that even the monster hesitated—its claws inches from his ribs. What the—?!

CLANG!

The attack collided with his shield instead, sending sparks flying. Lucian barely registered his own shock before instinct took over. He planted his foot and swung his warhammer in retaliation.

Too slow.

The creature twisted mid-air, its movements eerily fluid, dodging just beyond the hammer’s reach. The head of the weapon grazed its robes, but the monster merely spun, adjusting effortlessly.

It wasn’t retreating. It was studying him. Lucian gritted his teeth, gripping his hammer tighter. What in the world is that thing?

The creature flapped its leathery wings, floating effortlessly just above them. Its beady eyes flickered with something different now—not malice, not hunger, but… curiosity. Its gaze wasn’t on Lucian anymore. It was locked onto his shield.

Why is it so interested in my shield? Lucian wasn’t sure what was more unnerving—the way it had nearly torn through him like paper, or the way it was now staring like a child inspecting an unfamiliar toy.

Whatever the reason, Lucian didn’t like it. The way the thing stared—it was wrong. Not curious like an animal. Not tactical like a predator. It was fascinated. As if it recognized the shield. As if it had seen it before. Lucian’s grip tightened. He didn’t like coincidences. Not in a world where monsters might remember things better than people did.

And what in the world is it? That thing is way too fast. If not for the Master Shield, I might have ended up like Raven! His mind caught up to his eyes, finally registering more details about his opponent. The long, tattered white robes. The delicate shape beneath them. Its body, slender and feminine, draped in eerie elegance. Were it not for the grotesque, fanged grin or the fresh blood staining its chest, it could almost—almost—be mistaken for a lost woman wandering the woods. But there was nothing human about it.

A shot rang out. A bullet tore through the creature’s shoulder.

Lucian’s head snapped around to see Hugh standing behind him, a small firearm—no bigger than a flintlock pistol—trained on the target. Cool. “Keep it occupied, sir. I think we’ve got its number,” Hugh said, steady and composed.

Lucian noted his stance—feet wide apart, arms bent just enough to absorb recoil. He’s trained. The thought was brief but approving. He turned back to the creature, which now clutched its wounded shoulder, hissing in pain as it floated backward.

“What did you do to it?” Lucian asked.

“Fire enchantment, sir,” Hugh replied, his gun never wavering. “Only on my bullets, though.”

Lucian immediately understood. He spared a glance at Raven, still motionless beneath the canopy. Her chest didn’t rise. Not even a twitch. The sight made his hands tighten around the hammer. Gotta finish this fast. “How many shots left?”

“Six loaded, one in the chamber.”

“Can’t afford to miss, then,” Lucian muttered. “Not with how fast it is. What is that thing?”

“The Remover.”

Lucian blinked. “That’s the Remover?”

“Yes, sir.” Hugh kept his voice even, tracking the creature’s every movement. “With all the blood near the client’s carriage, it can’t be anything else.”

Lucian exhaled sharply. “She took Raven down in one hit. Don’t end up like her.”

Hugh rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Lucian moved. The Remover’s eyes locked on him as he sprinted forward. It beat its wings, trying to fly higher, but another gunshot rang out—this time hitting its wing. The creature screeched as it plummeted, crashing hard into the dirt.

Before it could lift its face from the ground, Lucian was already on top of it. He stomped down on one of its wings, pinning it in place. The Remover shrieked, thrashing violently, claws swiping at his legs. But Lucian barely felt it. His Master Shield absorbed every strike.

Let’s make this hurt. Taking a deep breath, he raised his Iron Warhammer high, aiming straight for the creature’s head. But as he brought it down, the Remover suddenly flailed, wild and erratic. Its free wing plunged into the dirt, acting like a second limb. With an unnatural burst of strength, it forced itself upright, causing Lucian’s strike to miss by inches.

Now, even though it was still grounded, the creature had regained enough mobility to lash out, its claws slashing dangerously close. Strikes came at Lucian from more angles than before. The Master Shield absorbed most of the blows, but he had no opening to counter. Worse, he was forced to block additional swipes with his Iron Warhammer just to keep up.

Not this again. He recalled the Master Beast’s relentless flurry of blows from before, but somehow, the Remover was even faster. There’s no weight behind these hits, though. It’s the claws I need to worry about. Must be razor-sharp to do that kind of damage.

His eyes flickered to Raven, still motionless on the ground. His attention strayed for just a second. That second was all the Remover needed. One of its long claws slipped past his hammer, darting straight toward his face. Lucian barely had time to lean back. Even then, he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

I’m dead.

Then—a gunshot.

The Remover shrieked as a bullet struck true, forcing its claw to veer off course at the last possible moment. It wasn’t just the timing. It was the placement. The shot had hit the joint—right between claw and wrist, shifting the angle just enough to spare Lucian’s face. Not luck. Precision. Lucian didn’t have time to thank him, but damn, was he glad Hugh was on their side.

You son of a…

Stamping his foot down, he shoved against the flailing creature. With a desperate push, he managed to pin both of its arms against its body beneath his shield.

“Do it!” Hugh shouted. He had seen what Lucian saw, but was quicker to act. The Remover’s belly was completely exposed.

Crap! Bad angle! Despite the advantage, Lucian was in no position to land a clean, heavy hit. The creature thrashed wildly, kicking at the ground and struggling beneath his weight. He gritted his teeth—it was taking everything to keep it pinned. “Need a hand here!” Lucian called. Hugh was already moving.

The scramble was messy. Yet somehow, they moved in sync. Rough, but coordinated. Hugh braced; Lucian struck. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. The Remover’s legs flailed violently, kicking Lucian in places that absolutely did not deserve such treatment. But with Hugh pressing down on the shield with both hands and Lucian bracing it with his foot, they held firm.

“This is for Raven... and my crotch,” Lucian said before swinging his hammer down, driving it deep into the Remover’s stomach.

A sickening squelch. The struggling stopped.

It was sloppy. Brutal. Nothing like the clean takedowns he’d seen in tutorial videos or fantasy streams. But it worked. And for once, it wasn’t just brute force that did it. It was coordination. Strategy. Timing. A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth despite everything. They were getting better.

Hugh looked up at him, one brow raised. “Your crotch?”

Lucian blinked. “Uh.”

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“It’s fine, sir."

Lucian extended a hand to Hugh, who took it and got to his feet.

“Anyway, it’s dead, yes?” Hugh asked.

“Why are you asking me?” Lucian replied. “I figured you’d know more about these things. More importantly, is she alive?”

Hugh glanced at Raven’s still-unmoving form. To Lucian’s surprise, he didn’t look particularly concerned. Instead, he produced a pocket watch, checking the time with casual ease. “Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time,” Hugh said. “What’s important right now is making sure this thing is actually dead.”

Lucian frowned. “And how exactly do we do that?”

“Did you get a notification of EXP, sir?” Hugh asked.

Come to think of it… He had received experience for everything he’d killed so far. He quickly opened his [Menu]. No prompt.

“Nothing yet,” Lucian muttered. “Maybe it’s delayed? Did you get a notification when this thing died?”

“Experience goes to the one who deals the killing blow,” Hugh explained, pulling his pistol free once more. “Party members receive any remaining experience they didn’t acquire once a quest is turned in.” Hugh then stepped onto the shield, steadying himself as he aimed at the Remover’s exposed lower half. “I suggest we do our due diligence before it actually gets up, sir.”

Lucian frowned again. The idea of literally beating a dead horse—or, in this case, a winged nightmare—didn’t sit right with him. “Would you please put that down?” He sighed. “Maybe the system isn’t as flawless as everyone likes to think. Look at it—it’s dead.” To prove his point, Lucian kicked the handle of his warhammer, which was still embedded in the Remover’s abdomen. “How much more proof do you want? It’s not moving, it’s bleeding out, and it’s—”

Lucian’s words died in his throat.

The creature’s midsection had split. Right where the hammer had been buried, a gash widened, stretching across its waist. Then, the legs started moving. On their own.

Lucian and Hugh stared in stunned silence as the lower half of the Remover began crawling away from its body. Neither of them spoke. Their bodies, however, moved on their own.

Lucian ripped his warhammer from the ground and swung at the rogue legs. Hugh leveled his pistol, aiming for the joints, hoping to disable whatever horror was unfolding before them. Then, wings erupted from beneath the shield. A gust of force sent both men flying. Lucian hit the ground face-first. Hugh landed flat on his back with a grunt.

What the hell?! It wasn’t dead after all?! Lucian barely had time to process the situation before his own shield came flying back at him—

SMACK!

Right to the face. Okay. That hurt.

[Main Menu]

HP: 18/20

Mana: 17/17

Two points of damage?! I mean... fair. Lucian strapped his shield back onto his arm, eyes locking onto the creature still floating before him. That same twisted grin stretched across its face, mocking him. But now, its entire lower half was missing. There wasn’t nearly as much blood as he expected, but its intestines hung loose, swaying grotesquely as it hovered in place. A shiver crawled down Lucian’s spine.

“Ready for round two, Hugh?” Lucian asked, shifting into a stance. Before he even got an answer, a gunshot rang out—except the Remover in front of him didn’t react.

Lucian’s head snapped to the side. Hugh was not in a position to respond. The lower half of the Remover had him pinned, one foot crushing his arm while the other lashed out in rapid, calculated strikes. Hugh barely managed to weave and dodge, flailing his pistol in his free hand.

Oh, for the love of—

Lucian’s moment of distraction was all the upper half needed. The Remover lunged. Claws came straight for his eyes. Lucian barely rolled back in time, landing on his knees with his shield raised. His pulse pounded as he quickly assessed the situation.

Why is it always the damn eyes?! He scanned his surroundings. Both of his party members were down. No cover. No backup. Nothing but pure adrenaline pushing him forward. His body moved before his mind could catch up, sprinting toward Hugh’s position—

An ear-piercing shriek split the air. Lucian froze. The sheer force of the sound sent chills through his bones. It wasn’t just loud—it was designed to paralyze its prey. His heart pounded as he turned, muscles locking involuntarily. The Remover hurtled toward him, eyes wild, claws outstretched.

Move, damn it! Raise your hammer! You can’t always rely on your shield! He willed himself into action, and swung. But it wasn’t his warhammer that met the creature’s charge. It was the Master Shield.

Or… you know what? Fine. Let it do its thing. Lucian tried to twist the Remover into his momentum, planning to pull it in, spin around, and crush its head with a single strike.

He pulled. Nothing happened. What the—?! It’s stuck?! Lucian yanked harder, expecting to break free, except the Remover didn’t have legs to brace against the ground. And yet, it wouldn’t budge.

Every inch of progress Lucian made felt like dragging himself through tar. The air grew heavier, like the forest itself was watching—waiting to see who would fall first. He didn’t just feel the weight of his gear; he felt the weight of responsibility.

The Remover shrieked again and pushed. Lucian gritted his teeth, digging his feet into the dirt, trying to hold his ground, but the force of its wings was too much. Dust kicked up behind them as the creature drove him backward, each wingbeat sending another shockwave of pressure against him. His heels began to slide, the ground betraying him as the Remover forced him further and further back.

Oh, this is bad.

But the Blacksmith refused to go down. Digging his heels into the dirt, Lucian held his ground, bracing against the Remover’s relentless advance. The struggle carried them down the forest path, past Hugh—who was still getting kicked in the face—and straight into a tree.

Its arms won’t budge! Lucian gritted his teeth, yanking at his shield in an attempt to break free. No use. He swung his warhammer, aiming for the creature’s side—

Caught. The Remover’s free hand snatched the weapon mid-swing, locking it in place. Well, great. The tables have certainly turned. Now what? Stare at each other until we die of hunger?

As if reading his thoughts, the Remover’s grin widened. Then, its claws grew. The long, black nails lengthened inch by inch, slithering across the shield’s surface, inching closer to his face.

Are you kidding me?! Lucian struggled, trying to shove himself off the tree. The Remover was simply in too advantageous a position—no matter how much he fought, its grip was too strong. Keep those gangly nails away from me!

His mind raced. How is it even touching the shield? I knew that damn fire enchantment was going to be useless! Fire is hot! Fire is supposed to burn! It’s—

Then, he heard it. A sizzle.

Smoke curled from beneath the Remover’s grip. Lucian’s eyes widened. Wait—

FWOOSH!

Flames erupted from the creature’s hand, racing up its arm to the shoulder. The Remover shrieked, yanking its smoldering limb away. Bits of charred flesh peeled off, still stuck to Lucian’s shield. The Remover stumbled back, staring at its burned hand in disbelief. Then, its gaze snapped to Lucian. Rage flared behind its beady, black eyes. It inhaled sharply, and screeched.

Lucian felt the force of it hit him, but this time, it didn’t faze him. He inhaled deeply and screamed back. The two continued yelling at each other, the forest echoing with an absurd, rage-fueled battle cry. With each step forward, Lucian’s shouts grew louder—angrier—until he was right in front of the creature. But he didn’t stop screaming.

The Remover hesitated. Lucian saw the flicker of confusion in its expression… and swung. His warhammer slammed across the Remover’s face, sending it sprawling to the ground. “See how you like being yelled at,” he muttered. Before the creature could recover, Lucian stomped onto one of its wings, pinning it in place. Then, he swung down.

CRACK.

The hammer shattered the delicate wing bones, tearing through its membrane. The Remover howled in agony, thrashing, but Lucian didn’t let up. He wailed on its wing again and again until it tore free, leaving the creature crawling, crippled.

Panting, Lucian finally took a step back, glancing down at his shield. It looked… normal. No glowing runes, no smoldering edges. Just the same round buckler, the same silver wolf emblem. “What the hell just happened?” he wondered aloud.

“It was the fire enchantment, sir.”

Lucian turned to see Hugh limping toward him. His robes were torn. His face was bruised. His entire demeanor radiated exhaustion. Behind him, the Remover’s lower half lay smoldering, wisps of smoke curling from the charred remains.

Lucian gestured at his shield. “I don’t get it. Why did it only work just now?”

“I apologize, sir. I should have explained how my enchantments work first,” Hugh admitted. “You need to actively imagine how the enchantment manifests for it to take effect on your equipment. For example, if I placed an ice enchantment on your hammer, you’d need to think of it as a hammer made entirely of ice. How does it affect your targets? It should feel cold, right? If that’s how you visualize it, then that’s how the enchantment will function.”

Great. Magic where I have to think. Lucian groaned internally. I just wanted to smack things with my shield.

Just then, the Remover lurched back into the air, wobbling unsteadily on its single remaining wing. Hugh and Lucian watched as it bobbed up and down, erratically flapping before awkwardly scooping up its detached lower half along the way.

“I’ll handle it, sir,” Hugh said as he painstakingly turned around, still limping. “I have one enchanted bullet left.” He steadied his arm, locking onto the Remover’s head and preparing to pull the trigger.

Lucian, however, placed a hand on the gun, stopping him. “Save your ammo. I got it.”

Hugh frowned. “It’s getting away, sir.”

Instead of running after it, Lucian planted his feet firmly into the ground.

“What exactly are you doing, sir?”

“Testing the limits of your enchantments.” Lucian raised his shield toward the Remover, his mind racing. Fire can erupt when a closed room is suddenly exposed to oxygen. That’s called a… “Backdraft!”

The wolf emblem on his shield opened its maw. A fireball exploded forth, cutting through the air like a meteor. It collided with the Remover in a fiery blast, launching its body deep into the depths of the forest.

Hugh blinked. “Do you think that killed it?”

Lucian didn’t hesitate. He immediately flicked open his [Menu].

[EXP Gained: 120/100]

[Overflowing EXP shall be added onto the progress of your next level.]

“Yup!” He turned, flashing Hugh a thumbs-up, only to find the Enchanter already limping toward Raven. Oh right. She died. Oh crap. She died?!

His breath caught. For a moment, the adrenaline that had kept him going evaporated, leaving a cold hollowness in its place. He hadn’t processed it—not really. Raven, the chaotic, sharp-tongued thorn in his side, had died. Because he wasn’t fast enough. Because this world was cruel. Even if she’d come back, that moment was real. And he hated it.

Lucian rushed to Hugh’s side. The Enchanter had already seated himself beside Raven’s body by the time Lucian reached him. Without a word, Hugh handed him a transparent stone filled with a light, white liquid.

[Acquired Reviving Stone]

Lucian examined the item. “Uh… how do I—”

“Place it on her forehead, sir,” Hugh instructed. “It will revive her with 1 HP, so it’s best used after a battle.”

“Where’d you even get this? Feels like something stupidly valuable in this world,” Lucian asked.

Hugh shrugged. “Found it while looting around the Tutorial Area, sir. My teammates were adamant about exploring every nook and cranny after the final fight. We picked this up from behind a fallen arch near the Tutorial Boss before moving on to Tel Tahkat. I have a few more from my adventures, I'll give you one each when we get back to the guild, just to be safe.”

I knew I should have explored more back then! Lucian mentally kicked himself. But he’d been distracted by something shiny on the other side of that door.

Raven.

Kneeling beside the fallen Spellsword, he prepared to place the stone on her forehead.

“Let’s not make a habit of dying, though,” Hugh added. “I'm running low, and these are pretty expensive on the market.”

Lucian froze. Slowly, he lifted the stone to eye level, inspecting it as if he had just been handed a priceless gem. “Oh really now?”

Hugh shot him a glare. “Mr. Nyx!”

“I’m kidding! I’m not gonna let her stay dead, obviously.”

Hugh sighed. “Still, sir. Best not to dally. We can only revive people who have been dead for less than ten minutes. After that, they’re permanently gone.”

Lucian’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?!”

Without another second of hesitation, he slammed the stone onto Raven’s forehead. Green and white wisps of light spiraled out of the stone, seeping into her eyes, nose, and mouth. Then—

Raven jerked upright, gasping for air. “Did… did I just die?” she rasped.

Both Hugh and Lucian nodded. She blinked a few times, leaned back onto her hands, and took a deep breath. “So that’s what it feels like.” She shivered. “… Kinda cold. Not my thing.”