Online In Another World

From a humanoid form to complete monstrosity, the Unending Nightmare turned into a ball of flesh with limbs and blood orbiting its spherical form as multiple grinning, frowning, and laughing mouths appeared on its floating, ball shape.

Eyes sprouted along its shape, blinking and ever-watching as it boasted a daunting size, emitting a gravitational force that crushed anything directly near it.

“Don’t get close to it!” Roan shouted to the rest of the group.

Sumera held her staff forward, “That’s perfectly fine with me! Blazing Sphere!”

A massive fireball was launched towards the miniature moon of flesh that the Unending Nightmare became, nearly reaching it before the flame fizzled out the closer it got.

“What?!” Sumera reacted.

Roan attempted an attack of his own, snapping his fingers as he sent a powerful bolt of lightning towards the ball of meat, though it only curved around the invisible aura around its spherical shape, not reaching it.

“..Hm,” Roan was puzzled.

It only got closer, crushing the ground around it as it emitted haunting laughter of all pitches in its ominous approach towards the survivors.

“Can nothing stop it…?!” Melisande questioned.

“Of course something can stop it. We just have to figure out what,” Sumera assured her.

Scratching his head, Kintoki huffed before looking over at the dragon-armored figure, “Hey, Emilio! How about we do this the old-fashioned way, huh!? How ’bout it?!”

In his current state of instinct, Emilio was unable to answer vocally, but replied as he stood by Kintoki’s side, dressed in his durable hide of scales and draconic steel before nodding.

A smile etched itself across Kintoki’s lips, “Alright! Let’s go!”

Unbeknownst to the others was the reckless ‘plan’ forged by Kintoki that was merely broken down to ‘if magic doesn’t work, then hit it really hard’–which was good enough for Emilio.

Together, they dashed in with reckless abandon, side-by-side as the Dragonheart reared his left fist back, condensing draconic force into his knuckles as the Braveheart swung his gargantuan sword back, flexing all of his might.

“You idiots!…You’ll get yourselves killed!” Sumera yelled.

Roan huffed, scratching his scruffy beard, “Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”

It was a surprising utterance from the experienced adventurer of renown as Sumera was perplexed by how it even seemed remotely effective.

Within range of the massive sphere of flesh that was the Unending Nightmare in all of its grotesque glory, the two felt the full brunt of its immense pressure as blood squirted from Kintoki’s nostrils, sliding down his ears while Emilio’s draconic armor began to crack.

Still, they followed through with everything they had, leaping in together as the Dragonheart’s fist shot forward and the Braveheart’s blade slammed forth.

“Yeah–!” Kintoki roared out from the unison attack.

The impact resulted in an explosive impact, causing the sphere of flesh to explode, losing its form as the laughter emitting harrowingly from it was stifled.

The air howled from the sheer force parting the winds, brushing through the incomplete realm.

It was surprisingly effective, though Kintoki didn’t doubt it for a second as he smiled despite blood leaking from his nose, ears, and mouth.

“They did it?!” Sumera said.

Roan smiled, “Seems like they finally reached it.”

It was only a hunch that I didn’t get the chance to tell them, but standing as it is, the Unending Nightmare’s seemingly ‘unfair’ regeneration has a caveat: there’s a core in its body, Roan thought, It seems they destroyed it with that last attack.

As Kintoki and Emilio landed, it seemed the combined attack took everything out of them as the Braveheart’s muscles downsized to their normal state and the draconic armor bolstering the Dragonheart finally crumbled.

“Grgh…” Emilio winced.

[Level Up!]

[Level Sixteen Achieved.]

Before he could even realize what had happened from his trance, Emilio fell over, unconscious.

Kintoki looked over, “Emilio?! Hey, are you good?! We won!”

Melisande was the first to Emilio’s side with worry embedded in her eyes, though Sumera followed soon after, falling by his side and checking on his pulse.

“Is he…?” The silver-haired girl asked, gulping.

Sumera looked up at her with a soft smile, “He’s alive. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Phew…I’m glad,” Melisande breathed out.

Though the eccentric man seemed even more relieved as he fell back, sighing out in relief, “Man, he’s tough!”

Despite the seeming victory, there was one among them who didn’t celebrate yet: the red-haired adventurer warily warped in front of the others, holding his arm out.

“Roan? What’s wrong?” Sumera looked up at the man.

The red-haired man kept his gaze forward, “It’s not over yet.”

“What–?”

“Don’t worry,” Roan assured them all with a small smile, “I’ve got it from here. Just keep the brat comfortable.”

It was first apparent to the veteran adventurer that it wasn’t over by the fact that they were all still held in the realm of suspended bodies.

Once more, the Unending Nightmare rose from chunks of discarded flesh, mending into a form of skeletal mass; it was a humanoid skeleton with a cow skull, dressed in a constantly-swaying, black robe as it approached with orbiting arms.

Before it could reach the exhausted survivors, Roan swept through the air as a versatile bolt, zipping from left-to-right to throw the entity off before flicking powerful bolts against it.

It was a last-ditch form by the Unending Nightmare, clear in its inability to adapt before Roan manifested his flame-born claymore, propelling directly towards the ominous giant and cleaving it into many sections, split by visceral flames.

“Mission accomplished,” Roan muttered.

Just as those words left, the incomplete realm began crumbling away, leaving the survivors back in the center of what was left of Larundog.

The fiends roaming the desolate city turned to ash, fading away as the barrier around the land vanished, once more allowing a pale blue sky to cast down on it.

“…We’re back…” Melisande said in awe, looking up.

“Yeah, it’s finally over,” Sumera replied.

–

It wasn’t until a few hours later that Emilio opened his eyes, finding himself laying in the back of a wooden carriage, looking up towards a ceiling of pale-white fabric.

“Ngh…” He groaned.

Where am I…? Is it over? He questioned.

As he sat up, he could see that outside of the carriage, the city of Larundog was still growing more and more distant.

I’m moving…? Huh? He thought.

“Hey, you’re finally awake.”

To his surprise, he looked over to find the silver-haired girl sitting in the back of the carriage with him, though he was still clueless as to what was going on.

“Melisande?…Did we make it out?” He asked.

A small nod came from the girl who held a melancholic smile, “We did–thanks to everybody’s effort.”

“I see…”

He remembered at last what happened with Vandread, looking down at his own hands as he could almost feel the undying blood flowing through his veins.

That really happened then…He thought.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“Roan decided to escort us to Vasmoria–or specifically, the Guild Foundation,” Melisande said excitedly.

“Wait, hold on…Roan is taking us? Why? And…You’re coming along? Listen, you’ve seen what type of stuff adventurers have to endure now, right? It’s not pleasant…” He asked, sitting against the carriage.

Melisande twiddled her thumbs, “…There’s nothing left for me in Larundog. Still, it feels like this opportunity is something my brother left for me–I’m sure this is the path he would’ve wanted for me. I know you’re just thinking of my safety, but please don’t treat me like I’m baggage.”

“I’m no–” as he opened his mouth to try and deny her words, he stopped himself before fixing his approach, “…Yeah. Sorry.”

A small smile came across Melisande’s lips, “Thanks, Emilio. You’re a great person. I can see why my brother became friends with you–he likes…liked earnest people,” the girl said with tears in her eyes, reminiscing, “I’m just glad to know…he wasn’t alone at that time. Just imagining that makes my heart feel like it’s all twisted up…I don’t know how to explain it.”

On the topic of Joel, it was difficult for him to respond as he looked towards outside the carriage, finding the sight of the clear skies and fields of luscious grass, grazed by deer and other wildlife, to be utterly therapeutic.

“Roan said he was already on his way to the Guild Foundation anyway to give his report, so he offered to escort us in place of well…nevermind. Kintoki and Sumera decided to stick back in Larundog to look for survivors,” Melisande explained.

“Is that so?…” He said quietly.

From up front, guiding the horses, Roan yelled out, “Finally awake, kid? Well, I expected you to sleep a lot longer. We’ve got some ways until we reach the Guild Foundation, so feel free to rest up some more.”

“Right,” he mumbled.

It wasn’t how he expected it to go at all, but now, he was in the final stretch towards his journey, though he felt grief in his heart through the loss of Vandread, finding it easy to pin the blame on himself when feeling that familiar blood coursing through his veins.

If only he wasn’t forced to be my guide, he thought.