The Extra Wants To Live

"Hope is the cruelest whip that moves a desperate being most fervently. Garten may think he was betrayed, but didn't you consider that slave a disposable tool from the beginning? That slave licked his master's feet, and it seems like he wanted to do something to me, a member of the royal family?"

Carl grumbled and then hammered the final nail in the coffin.

"Foolish. Well, that's just how slaves are."

"You guys!"

This time, the hot response came back. Carl smiled enviously as he realized that the scream drawn from the depths of his soul was Garten's.

"The slave has awakened again."

"I will kill you!"

Garten seemed to have lost all sense of reason, and the unidentified entity controlling his body was nowhere to be seen.

Choaack!

The sound of people running through pools of blood could be heard from all directions. Carl tried to listen, but he couldn't distinguish the sounds because Garten was screaming endlessly.

Carl guess he stimulated him too strongly.

"Ugh!"

Carl lunged forward, twisting his body. His upper body turned to the left, and his right hand rose.

Shhh!

The downward sword stroke elegantly drew a circle, gently cutting off the tentacles made of eyeballs. The sword that passed in front returned and slashed forward repeatedly.

Puck!

A chunk of eyeball that had flown in hit the helmet. But the shock was minimal. Garten couldn't handle power as skillfully as the unidentified being.

"Is this all there is to it since there is no owner?"

"Kuaaaah!"

Carl continued to provoke feelings of inferiority and trauma, causing Garten to scream and tear at his hair.

Carl ran furiously, spinning his body gracefully like a dancer, slashing and knocking out every eyeball that came at him.

Dual swordsmanship is a very defensive martial art. Carl was more sensitive to his life than anyone else.

He is a warrior who grew up following the fundamentals of martial arts to protect his body more thoroughly than anyone else.

It was not a big deal to waste time fending off such clumsy attacks.

Carl stepped back slightly to put some distance between himself and Garten, as if he was about to cut him down at any moment, then charged forward again to create more distance.

Garten had been impaled by Carl's spear, with his right shoulder cut off by Jaren's mana blade. But now he was standing there, completely fine.

The last thing Carl saw under the moonlight was a new body.

It was hard to see clearly, but it definitely had a right arm. Carl thought that hurting Garten might not help, so he just focused on buying time without bothering him.

In the midst of the endless attacks, Carl defended himself by moving as if dancing. He used his two swords and armor to deflect, block, push back, and counterattack.

Unfortunately, the sword and armor were too weak to withstand his outstanding physical abilities.

Ting!

The sword in Carl's right hand, which had been swinging sharply like a whip to cut off the eye tentacles, broke in the middle and flew away.

Carl spun the shortened sword around, gripped it in the opposite direction, and thrust it hard into the eye tentacle aiming for the right side, then twisted it and cut it off.

Chaenggang!

The sword, overworked, could not withstand that force. The strongest part of the sword, the ricasso, snapped off along with the eye tentacle.

Carl continued the tense battle, holding his one remaining one-handed sword with both hands. In the vast plain, it was as dangerous as a candle before a storm.

"Okay, I'll make you a slave too," Garten muttered with a growl.

Seeing Carl struggling in danger, Garten finally realized that he was in his own hands and regained at least a modicum of composure.

Choaack! Pubbuck!

Garten, who had regained his composure, blinked his eyes that had been moving wildly at once and struck Carl in one breath.

Unable to stop them all with just one sword, Carl allowed the attack to continue.

Even at that moment, he was able to overcome the shock with his excellent armor skills, but he couldn't help but feel his body float away.

Thud! Choaack!

Carl, who was pinned to the floor of the blood-filled basement, slid to a stop, then jumped up and aimed his sword.

But the sword, with all its teeth gone and cracked, was not the least bit threatening.

Garten stepped on the remaining eyeball and slid across the pool of blood to approach Carl.

"You fight so well even though you can't see ahead. Yeah, I have to admit it. You're really great."

It was only after Garten regained his composure that he realized it. Carl was practically blind now. How could he fight like that?

"I don't feel happy at all even if I get recognition from a slave."

"... It's only now that you can say that."

Garten suppressed his anger.

Rather, he felt his heart pounding with excitement at the thought that Carl, who had been acting so arrogantly, would soon bow down before him.

"Others have called me Prophet Garten, but you will call me Master."

"Are you planning to wag your tail and beg your master to give you me as his slave?"

"That guy! He is not my master!"

"You speak well."

As Carl grumbled, Garten remained silent for a moment to collect himself.

Thanks to the fact that he had just rolled his eyes and made a scene, he was able to keep his cool even as Carl continued to rant.

Shhh! Visor!

At Garten's gesture, the eye tentacles swung around, and Carl cut them down, but eventually, the last remaining sword broke.

"Hahaha! Your mouth is no match for your appearance!"

Garten burst into laughter as he looked at Carl, holding the sword with only the handle left.

"A rebellious slave must be tamed by whipping, but we don't have time, so let's finish this quickly."

Garten laughed.

It was the end.

Now Carl had neither the strength nor the weapons to fight any longer.

With this, he will control Carl's mind and make him an obedient slave. And through Carl, he will invade the palace, control all the others, make Carl the emperor, and make him my slave.

A slave emperor.

Isn't it so much fun?

Garten's laughter echoed in the blood-soaked chamber as he held the book aloft.

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