Chapter 170: 170 Article 169 "Prayer's Former Girl"

The vermilion serpent released by the sorcerer scattered the darkness and sunk its flaming fangs into the beast.

The skin of the beast, formed from a mass of flesh, burned as if without resistance. Fialaert's nostrils were filled with the unique smell of fire eating through a human body. His dark eyes twisted uncomfortably.

Please just let it burn away. I want the heat to penetrate deep into the flesh and turn this beast into a lump of ash. Oh, please. Don't let me see any more of you. Just the mere presence of that fearsome figure is enough to make the world go away.

It's almost like a prayer. Like praying to God, like praying to the devil. That's what we all do.

Just pray to the world that your desires will be conveniently fulfilled. Such a prayer was beginning to appear in Fialaat's mind.

Fialaert's fingertips flickered slightly. His canine teeth were jammed into his lips, as if he were biting back fear. His legs no longer moved as if they were bound in chains of fear. The walls covering the corridor completely collapsed and the wind blew against my cheeks.

--Oooh--roooh--

A sound echoed from within the mass of flesh engulfed in flames. It sounded as if it was desperate to be burned. Oh, but it was not a voice. It was not a scream, struggling against the flames.

Because that beast has no throat. It has no vocal chords. The beast is just a pile of flesh, made of clay, and has no biological form. So, it's a sound. It is just a collection of sounds made by writhing flesh, bones, and blood inside the body, as if it were a moaning voice.

It was as if it was forcing itself to imitate a living creature, and it was no longer an existence that could be easily described with words like "fearless.

The sound of its screams made Fialaat's heart palpitate faster and faster. The blood flowed incessantly through his body, and the tension crawling on his skin made his breathing ragged. The voice in Fialaat's mind grew louder and louder.

Burn. Let it burn out. If you want to imitate a living thing, do it all you want. Then just be a creature and die when the flames engulf you. And it's all over. And then it's all over.

And then, just as I was looking at him, a lump of flesh, with flames surrounding it, threw up its arms and roared with great speed. The space creaked and squeaked. The destination of that arm was, without a doubt, you. The marrow of Fialaert's brain knew it.

No! Not even the fiery serpent, not even the heat of the flames that engulfed his entire body, could reach the beast and choke it out. Not even the flaming snake could slow it down a bit.

Fialaert's brain is trying hard to tell him. He should run, he should turn away and leave. But although his trembling legs forced him to stand up on the corridor, there was no way he could get away with such agility.

After all, Fialaat was just a girl, except that she could use magic. She does not have the courage to step out in front of an overwhelming force, nor does she have the recklessness to face it. Just a girl.

Therefore, when she encountered difficulties that made her sob, she used to be able to do nothing but hope and pray. Yes, that's it.

--That must have been the essence of the former Fialat-La-Borgograd.

A fearsome, fleshy arm, covered in flames, closes the distance to Fialaat. A few more blinks, and Fialaat would be devoured and crushed into a piece of flesh. That must now be the certain future.

And yet... The black eyes that stared at the lump of flesh now showed a small glimmer in their depths. A small amount of breath leaks out. The magic swirled noisily into the palm of Fialaert's hand. There was no room for the vermillion serpent now, not like when it was released. Of course, he doesn't have the mental composure to chant at leisure. There was only so much he could do. Hence, Fialaat only focused on the accumulation of magic power.

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I'm going to die. There was no way a human being could survive being crushed by this arm, or even this lump of flesh. Fialaert knew that well.

That's why. I don't want to see you die in vain, leaving everything to your prayers and wishes. You'll be able to find a lot more than just a few of them in the market.

Oh, yes. I've denied it to myself, haven't I? I've just stepped out of a world where all I can do is wish and pray for God to give me happiness.

From an early age, Fialaat understood that praying and hoping meant nothing. How many times had he prayed in the midst of daily scorn? How many times had he prayed in the midst of nauseating humiliation?

And did it ever come true, even once?

And yet, still, my weak self prayed and prayed as if I were clinging to it, as if it were a foothold. As if I believed that by doing so, I would eventually be saved.

Ridiculous. Yeah, that's ridiculous. Such a world where praying is all that matters is a world that doesn't recognize human effort and striving. It's a world that denies him the ability to reach forward despite his bloodlust. Such a world is unacceptable to Fialaat. There is no way he can tolerate it.

So I'm done praying and hoping. I'll do the least I can until the end. Even if this is the last moment when the light of life is extinguished, I am happy just to think so, Fialaert unknowingly waves his lips.

The fingertips intensified their light green luminescence and glinted as if they were catching the arm of a lump of flesh. It was just a lump of magic. While he couldn't handle the enormous amount of magic that flowed into him, he could at least turn it around and spit it out. You can find a lot of things that you can do to make your life easier.

The green light of magic flickered in the darkness.

A few moments later. After a few moments, Fialaert's lips let out the last of her breath.

--No. No, of course not.

The vortex of magic that Fialaert had created and spat out was able to push back the flesh beast's mighty arm, at least a little. But that was the end. The abominable beast hadn't chipped its body, not even a little, and was making a fearsome sound again.

There was nothing left for me to do, not even the mental strength to run away.

Oh, I see, it was all for nothing. What I had done for Lugis had only shortened my own life in the end. I could not help but smile at the thought that this was my own way of being.

But it's better than not doing it. Much, much better. I'm sure that's what Lugis would say, Fialaert thought as he narrowed his eyes.

The beast's arms, sapped of their momentum, were once again straining their flesh as they closed in on Fialaat, ready to devour his very being. No more black hair to move.

--Jump, alert. What, I don't need more than a breath.

It's strange, it's so strange. Fialaat's legs, which had been cowering and refusing to move until now, kicked the floor almost out of sheer will the moment she heard the words.

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