NABC Chapter 392
Chapter 392
The midday sun, unusually bright for the season, cast long, playful shadows across the cobbled streets west of the Amphitheatrum. Kenji, a young man with a perpetually hopeful glint in his eyes, chuckled as his wife, Elara, meticulously haggled over the price of a trinket.
They had journeyed to the bustling city for the annual Monsterphilia, a spectacle of creature taming and exhibitions, eager for a break from the quiet monotony of their village life.
The aroma of spiced meats and freshly baked bread mingled with the scent of diverse patrons, creating a vibrant tapestry of urban life.
He reached out, playfully ruffling her hair, prompting a mock glare from her verdant green eyes.
Suddenly, a distant, piercing shriek tore through the festivity.
Kenji straightened, his brow furrowed.
"Another one of those beast handlers, I suppose?" he mused.
Elara, however, dropped the trinket.
The screams were no longer isolated; a chilling chorus erupted from the direction of the Amphitheatrum, quickly escalating into a sustained roar of terror.
Then, the crowd shifted.
Not the gentle flow of shoppers, but a sudden, panicked surge.
Faces contorted in fear, bodies jostled, and the festive air curdled into a palpable dread as people began to flee, a tide of bodies rushing away from the source of the commotion.
"This isn't part of the show," Elara whispered, her hand instinctively seeking Kenji's.
He gripped it tightly, his heart hammering against his ribs.
A rhythmic thudding, accompanied by the splintering of wood and the roar of something monstrous, reached their ears.
He didn't know precisely what was happening, but the instinct for survival was primal.
"Run!" he urged, pulling her into the panicked stream of people.
They became another pair of distraught faces in the surging current, their earlier playful mood completely obliterated, replaced by a desperate need to escape the unseen horror.
The main thoroughfare, once a vibrant artery, became a conduit of chaos, propelling them deeper into the labyrinthine urban sprawl.
The frantic flight continued, the crowd thinning as individuals peeled off into smaller groups, veering down various branching streets and twisting alleys.
Kenji and Elara, swept along with a dwindling cluster of terrified citizens, found themselves funnelled down a narrow, overlooked passage.
Hope flickered that this might lead to sanctuary, but it vanished as the alley abruptly terminated in a solid stone wall.
A dead end.
Their hearts plummeted.
Just as they prepared to retrace their steps, their only path of retreat was blocked.
At the entrance to the alley, where the sunlight dappled the cobblestones, a magnificent, terrifying creature stood.
A Sword Stag.
Its coat, the colour of the soil, rippled with power.
Metallic antlers, sharp as tempered blades, gleamed ominously, scraped against the stone archway as it lowered its head.
Its nose flared, sniffing the air, its eyes fixed upon the trapped group.
It was then, seeing the tangible form of their pursuer, that Kenji understood the true nature of the city's sudden pandemonium.
Monsters had escaped.
And he, along with Elara and the others, was cornered by one.
Fear, cold and absolute, gripped every person present.
Their bodies, once propelled by adrenaline, now stood frozen, stiff with terror.
There was no exit, no viable means of defense.
They could only pray for a swift end, an unexpected rescue from an adventurer, or for the monstrous creature to simply lose interest.
Survival seemed a distant, cruel jest.
Some individuals, overwhelmed by the impending doom, dropped to their knees, their lips moving in silent prayers.
Others, driven by a desperate, futile hope, began to scramble, attempting to scale the impassable high wall behind them, clawing at each other in a desperate bid for elevation.
A few, mustering a surge of reckless courage, hurled whatever debris and refuse lay littered on the ground towards the stag, only succeeding in further enraging the beast.
Its heavy hooves echoed deliberate, thunderous thuds against the cobbled floor as it began its slow, inevitable advance.
Each step brought it closer, its eyes filled with amusement.
It needed only a slight push, a final lunge, and it could impale them all.
However, just as its form crossed a crucial threshold, just as the suffocating grip of despair was threatening to drive them to madness, something extraordinary happened.
Like a meteor descending from a stormy sky, a figure plummeted, landing with devastating force directly atop the Sword Stag.
The monster's head, caught in the impact, burst open like an overripe fruit, its blood, brain matter, and viscera erupting outwards, splattering a gruesome, crimson canvas against the alley walls and, sickeningly, across the faces of the petrified onlookers.
Shivers coursed through them, their adrenaline-fueled hearts hammering a frantically in their chests.
"Ugh, sorry 'bout that.....seems like I missed the core," the mysterious figure stated, wiping a streak of gore from his cheek with a casual, almost unsettling smile.
He had hoped his lighthearted tone would ease their nerves, but the sheer brutality of the act, combined with his peculiar nonchalance, only amplified the surreal horror of the moment. Some immediately recognized his distinctive draconic features……features that marked him as Draco, a celebrated and fearsome figure.
Others, new to the city and unfamiliar with such heroes, merely stared warily, a sickening cocktail of relief and unease swirling within them.
Witnessing a man so casually covered in the grisly remains of a monster, yet smiling, was a nauseating spectacle, yet paradoxically, it offered immense calm to those who had just stared death in the face.
After efficiently dispatching the Sword Stag and quickly ascertaining that none of the civilians had sustained physical harm, Draco knelt beside the carcass.
His hands moved, digging into the monster's remains, extracting its magic stone.
The moment it was removed, all the blood, viscera, and the remaining parts of the monstrous body, rapidly disintegrated into fine, grey dust.
It was as if the creature had never existed, leaving only the lingering scent of fear and the shock in its wake.
"T-t-thank you, Sir Draco," someone stammered from the group, finally breaking free from their stupor.
"Hmm," Draco grunted in reply.
Before anyone else could formulate a word of gratitude or question, he launched himself skyward, a powerful leap that carried him soaring above the rooftops, disappearing into the vast, clear expanse.
This was the third of the four monsters that had managed to escape towards the eastern side of the Amphitheatrum.
There was only one remaining in this specific area……the silverback, currently pursuing the young adventurer Bell and his goddess, Hestia.
Draco had deliberately left that particular beast for last.
As for the monsters that had scattered into other districts of the city, Draco harboured no concern.
From his vantage point high above, he had observed other familias diligently at work, particularly the swift and decisive movements of Ais, who seemed to be darting everywhere at once.
It appeared there would be no significant casualties.
This afforded him a brief opportunity to observe Bell's struggle, even if his own goddess, Bahamut, wouldn't be thrilled to be kept waiting, after having their fun outing interrupted.
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Harnessing the invisible currents with his wind magic to navigate the sky, Draco tracked his targets.
It wasn’t long before he located Bell and Hestia, though he wasn't surprised to find them still pursued by the Silverback.
When he had last seen them, they were fleeing south of East Main.
He hadn’t expected them to retreat as far as the Daedalus Streets…..a confusing, architectural nightmare that would make it nearly impossible for average adventurers to find them, let alone offer assistance.
“Bell certainly has a knack for finding trouble,” Draco mused, his boots touching down silently on the cornice of a tall building overlooking the scene.
He had no immediate intention of intervening.
Instead, he remained a detached observer, perched at the edge of the roof to monitor the situation and ensure no innocent bystanders were caught in the crossfire.
Below him, the scene was one of desperation.
Bell and Hestia were struggling through the labyrinthine alleyways, their movements frantic and directionless.
Draco recognized Bell’s strategy: the boy hoped to use the maze-like environment to lose their pursuer.
It was a huge error.
Silverbacks possessed an acute sense of smell and the raw physical power to simply demolish any obstacle in their path.
‘Rather than retreating into unfamiliar territory, he should have headed toward a hub where other adventurers are likely to be around,’ Draco thought, watching the pair grow increasingly lost.
“By doubling down on this labyrinth, he’s trapped himself and his goddess. But you know, Bell, you cannot run away anymore” Draco muttered.
Draco’s eyes shifted to the monster.
The Silverback had briefly lost its quarry, but it quickly scaled a nearby building to gain a vantage point.
It sniffed the air, its nostrils flaring.
Having caught their scent, the beast began to maneuver for an aerial ambush.
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“Something is wrong,” Bell thought, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He had hoped they had gained some distance, but his instincts told him otherwise.
Vibrations hummed through the masonry of the thick walls.
He heard the brittle crack of bricks and the grinding of stone above.
Looking up, Bell caught sight of a massive, white blur silhouetted against the sky.
It wasn’t a cloud.
The Silverback had abandoned the streets entirely, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with the terrifying agility of a jungle predator.
It was descending directly toward them, falling like a leaden weight.
“Gyaaaaahhhhh!” the beast roared, its shadow eclipsing the sun.
“Ah!” Bell’s voice cracked.
The impact was imminent.
Realizing they would both be crushed, Bell acted on reflex, shoving Hestia in the opposite direction.
The monster slammed into the cobblestones with a deafening crash, sending a spray of debris and dust into the air.
When the haze cleared, the Silverback stood as a towering wall of muscle between the boy and his goddess.
It remained focused on Bell, allowing Hestia a momentary window to scramble back.
Bell knew the monster was likely targeting Hestia, and he had to reclaim its attention before it turned its malice toward her.
However, the Silverback was faster.
It let out a bone-shaking roar, spraying Bell with hot air and saliva.
The sound was a physiological weapon, designed to paralyze the weak-willed.
And it was very effective…
Bell froze.
The trauma of the Minotaur incident flooded back, threatening to drown his consciousness. This time, there was no legendary swordswoman to save him.
Internally, he was a storm of conflicting impulses.
He watched, horrified, as the Silverback began to turn its gaze toward Hestia.
‘I have to save her. But I’m so scared’
Fear fought duty; cowardice clashed with purpose.
In the crucible of the moment, his emotions fused into a single, desperate command.
“Go! Move now! You cannot let it get her!”
“YAAAAAAAAHHH!”
Bell’s scream shattered his paralysis.
He charged.
The Silverback’s nose flared in irritation as it pivoted to counter the boy’s insolence.
Its massive, tree-trunk arm swung in a wide arc, the heavy chain still rattling against its wrist like a flail.
Bell’s body twisted instinctively, ducking beneath the blow.
The fist whistled inches above his neck.
This was it…..the opening he needed.
He drew his blade and lunged, aiming for the exposed ribs beneath the beast’s raised arm.
He poured every ounce of his strength into the thrust.
Kriiiishhh.
The sound was wrong.
It wasn't the wet thud of a successful strike, but the shriek of failing metal.
The impact sent a jarring shockwave up Bell’s arm, jamming his wrist.
His blade had been utterly rejected by the beast’s dense, white fur.
Silver fragments sparkled in the air, catching the light as they fell.
His sword had shattered.
The realization hit him with the force of a lightning bolt: he couldn't hurt it.
His equipment and his strength were insufficient.
For a heartbeat, time seemed to dilate as he watched the remnants of his weapon bounce off the stone floor.
Before he could recover, the beast lunged.
“Gahhh!”
The Silverback seized him with both massive hands and slammed him against a stone wall.
The impact forced the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping and lightheaded.
“Guruuuu…” the monster purred, its hideous face mere inches from his own.
It bared rows of yellowed fangs, its maw large enough to decapitate him in a single bite. Absolute terror washed over Bell’s face.
“Beeelllll!”
Hestia’s scream echoed through the alley, but it felt distant.
Bell thrashed his arms and legs, desperately trying to break the monster’s crushing grip, but he was pinned firmly.
As the Silverback opened its jaws, a single thought permeated his mind.
‘Is this the end?’
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