Episode 26 - Behemoth Raid 3



Phase 3.

The operation designed to bring him to his end.
Each assassin drew a vial of poison from inside their coat and coated their blades.
Not ordinary poison — something prepared specifically for him.

Standard paralytic toxins, neurotoxins, acid-based compounds — all had been confirmed ineffective through repeated trial.

What Veilslayer had devised in their place was a hemorrhagic poison.
However resistant to toxins a body might be, this particular variety had a way of getting through regardless.

"Do not stop, and do not cluster. Stay fully scattered — attack in staggered intervals!"
"By your command!"
"Begin...!"

The assassins confirmed the coating had taken and slipped into position like shadows.

"Hff—..."

Kaftin, meanwhile, was already pushing his limits.
His transformation time was running short, and the gas cannon on his arm — his most destructive weapon — was compromised.

On top of that, the defensive concept of the Behemoth Form he was currently maintaining was absolute invulnerability — nullifying any attack by absorbing it into up to four centimeters of high-density chitin-metal plating.

With every ounce of biological material and energy poured into hardening that shell, his regeneration ran considerably lower than it did in human form.

"Come on then—! This time I'm tearing those eyes right out of your skull—!"
"Hm! Scatter—!"

He pulled even his flanking guards out wide, and Veilslayer used himself as bait — drawing Kaftin's attention while circling right.

"Tch—! Get over here!"
"......!"

Kaftin shot out his damaged arm in a sudden grab for Veilslayer — who immediately stepped back and slipped clear.

In the same instant, two assassins raked their blades across Kaftin's side in a long sweeping cut and were gone.

"Ngh—! A few scratches like that won't—"
"Will they not?!"

He had clenched the muscle to stop the bleeding — and blood was still seeping from his side.

Veilslayer was certain now.
Even that toxin-resistant body of his was taking the hemorrhagic poison. Clearly.

Then there was nothing to do but push harder.

"He's already wearing down! If the bleeding gets much worse, not even a monster like him can cheat death!"
"Hahaha! I'll tear your eyes out before that happens — Veilslayer—!"

The creature's movements had become visibly desperate.
He had to feel it himself.

No matter how monstrous that body was, it could not sustain blood loss like this indefinitely.
He had said it himself — I'm human. Kill me and I die.

One more step. Just one more push — and he would break.

"No choice then—!"
"Hm. There's no winning from where you stand — whatever you try! Monster — lie down and die, or surrender. Those are your options!"
"Says who—!"

Kaftin leveled his undamaged fist at Veilslayer, and Veilslayer's body went taut.
He wasn't getting close enough for melee — so a compressed air shot was coming. That much was clear.

"Damn it — that fist still had a charge?!"
"Ha—! This isn't one of those slow-charging ones...!"
"What?!"

Something tore — the plating along the forearm split apart, and two strange apertures opened from inside the wrist.
The moment Veilslayer registered what he was seeing, his skin crawled and he hurled himself backward.

"Ngh—!"
"Hm!"

A sharp report — and something came screaming out of the openings at tremendous velocity.

He had thrown himself back and it still wasn't going to be enough — Veilslayer swallowed his pride entirely and hit the ground rolling, desperate, clawing every inch of distance he could.

"GYAAAAAAH!"
"Tch—! Still fast when it comes to running, I'll give you that!"

Six full rotations before he dared glance back — and there they were. Two spikes, clearly made of the same material as the carapace, each roughly the size of a fist, driven into the earth at an angle where he had been standing.

"What in the—!"
"You dodged that. Impressive. These don't fire in bursts, you know...!"
"Tch — what kind of body IS that thing?!"

Bwooooom—!

The unsettling intake sound again.
Kaftin sealed the apertures back into the plating and his forearm began to swell once more.

"...Ngh—!"
"I'll make sure this one lands...!"

Now.

It hit Veilslayer like a bolt of lightning.
Everything he had observed told him the arm cannon took roughly five seconds to charge.
If he could get the Aura Blade into that forearm before those five seconds were up —

"Hyaaah—!"
"......!"

Kaftin's expression twisted at the sight of Veilslayer coming in hard, glass dagger reversed in his grip.
He could see exactly what the man was after.

"You only have the one approach—! Your entire offense!"
"And it's working, isn't it—! You're taking damage! Save the bluster—!"
"I haven't shown you everything yet...?"

Kaftin grinned — tucked the arm in against his body to hide it — and in the same motion lifted his leg and drove a roundhouse kick toward Veilslayer.

"You think a desperate move like that is going to land?!"
"It'll land — because it's me throwing it!"

Veilslayer didn't waver.
The kick would be powerful, certainly — but to his reflexes and visual tracking, it read as almost painfully slow.

He was certain: at his level of athleticism, he could use that kick as a stepping stone and drive the Aura Blade into the forearm with room to spare.

"Foolish—!"
"Heheheh—! Hyaaah!"

A blast rang out.

The blast that should have come from the forearm — came from the back of Kaftin's shin instead.

"What—?!"
"Having a cannon in the forearm means there's one in the legs too, obviously...! You've watched me launch off them how many times, and you still didn't notice?!"

The kick accelerated to invisible speed in an instant, explosive report and all.
It connected with Veilslayer's abdomen long before he could use it as a platform for anything.

"GHUURRKK—?!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHA—!"

Several ribs shattered all at once — he felt it — and Veilslayer's body was sent flying like a cannonball, caught on a branch, dropped, and rolled for a long time after.

The assassins saw it. They set their jaws and pressed the attack regardless.
Even if that blow had killed Veilslayer, they could not stop.
He had told them, repeatedly, before this began — regardless of whether he lived or died, kill the target.

To his people, Veilslayer's orders were gospel. Absolute. Non-negotiable.
The assassins drove their blades at Kaftin without a moment's hesitation.

"Vermin—!"

Three cuts landed before he could react — and the bloodshot fury in Kaftin's eyes deepened.
He had already registered that they had coated their blades with hemorrhagic poison.
He could not afford to keep taking hits.

"Hyaaah—!"
"You think the same approach works on me twice?!"

He had seen this pattern too many times.
His instincts were already reading their attack trajectories before they committed.

"What—?!"
"Hold the line! Keep attacking! Enough hits and something lands eventually!"
"Will it?!"

That massive, sluggish body was somehow — barely, impossibly — dodging the blades.
No. More than dodging.

"—?!"

One assassin swept past to cut him — and felt a hand close around his leg.

"Got one — you little pest!"
"Ngh—! You'll want to let go of that—!"

The assassin immediately drove his dagger down toward the fingers gripping his leg.
But Kaftin moved faster.

"Here — catch up with your friend!"
"Ugh—?!"
"Kgh—?!"

He swung the captured assassin and hurled him directly into the path of the next attacker already surging toward Kaftin.

"Ngh—! No—!"
"Too late. All of you."
"......!"

They realized, too late, that they had fallen into the exact situation they had been fighting so hard to avoid — and Kaftin's fist was already coming down.

Another tremendous blast — logs torn from the earth and flung skyward, two assassins reduced to scattered limbs.

"D-damn it—!"
"Don't panic! That weapon of his takes time to charge and time to aim — we have every advantage here! Keep attacking!"
"Heheheh — hahahahahaha! Yes, keep going! Because from here on—!"

He stopped.

Time was coming.

To keep the form any longer, he needed a massive influx of nutrients — food, something.
Without it, the transformation would collapse and leave him helpless.

"Tch—!"

The time limit had come faster than calculated.
Almost certainly the cause was the excessive blood loss draining his stamina.

He immediately broke for the bamboo bottle he had set down near the bonfire.
The assassins had no intention of letting that happen.

"...! Something's wrong with him—?"
"Now! I don't know what he's going for — but stop him!"

They surged in immediately — moving to surround him, pin him in place, cut off every path.

His remaining air cannon was still live on one side — and some of them would die for this — but every instinct told them that stopping whatever he was about to do mattered more.

"Out of my way, you pests! You want to die badly?!"
"Ngh—! Damn it! Here we go again!"

The familiar intake sound began — and the eyes of the assassins started to waver.

Five seconds.
They had five seconds to land something crippling enough to stop him moving.

But he was a monster.
One wrong approach and they would be torn apart.

"...I'll be the bait. Everyone else — concentrate on his legs."
"......!"
"I can hear everything you're saying, you idiots!"

He lifted one leg and drove it into the ground with full force — a blast firing from the leg on impact, releasing the pre-charged air into the earth and generating a shockwave.

"Wh — what?!"
"No — block him!"

The assassins were blown off their feet by the shockwave — and in that same moment, Kaftin reached the bonfire, bit the top off the bamboo bottle, and drank it down.

That would keep him going for a while longer.
It would have — if Veilslayer hadn't driven the last remaining glass dagger into the back of his neck, Aura Blade and all.

"Ngh — kgh—?!"
"Die... you monster... you ghost of Vesren... go back to where you belong...!"
"Grrr — Veilslayer—!"
"Ghosts belong with the dead — get out of my sight...!"

He had wrenched his own glass dagger from where it had been driven into the plating nearby, one in each hand now, and twisted with everything he had.
Blood erupted — and the massive frame collapsed without a sound.

—To be continued—