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Bakenekro [A Dungeon LitRPG]
Chapter 3: Those I feel sorry for - 4

Chapter 3: Those I feel sorry for - 4

Mircalla and I are on the Whirlpool bridge.

It's the tomb where the heroes rest, she should start melting any minute.

But it doesn't happen.

It's not happening.

That her [lv] is higher than [60]?

Now that we're tangled up in my tails, I can try again.

“Scan.”

[lv: 57(49)] [xp: 52483]

[name: Mircalla Carmaly]

[type: Human]

[job: Heroine]

[hp: 34356 (12134)]

[c: 3][d: 4]—[s: 3][i: 5][a: 6][…]

[ap: 65343(43121)]

[a: 6][i: 5]—[c: 3][d: 4][s: 3]

[status: Tiara lightning, Atmosphere-eater blessing], [malus: Deceased, Poisoned]

I would like to learn more.

The poison works and her [lv] is not beyond my capabilities!

Her stats are impressive and that's something I don't know.

The same goes for the [status] induced by the tiara, which I imagine is what makes her go off like lightning, and the [Atmosphere-eater blessing] that…

“If you ask yourself, it's because you've tried something, I can see it from your perplexity.”

While she tries to break the hold, weakened by the poison, Mircalla starts talking to me again.

“Does the Atmosphere-eater protect you?”

“You understand quickly. It is a weapon of the Devil and partially protects the user from magic. Without your poison… but what matters is that it allows me to be immune to System abilities. You're not the first… Ngh!!!”

No matter how hard she tries, she can't break the hold.

I would like to tell her to stop, but now her [Judgment] is compromised. She attacked me and the System doesn't allow it. I don't know what her fate was, but now it's definitely [Nightmare].

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So…

For this reason…

“Leave the sword so that I can judge you. Please.”

“I will not do that. I have to go back and save my world. You gods don't care, but I do. I care about saving my people, my friends, the people I love… I… Ah!”

The tail serpent bites Mircalla on her neck injecting more venom.

I startle and bring my hands to my face. My tails retract in my fright.

Did the tail act alone?

Or was it my hidden impulse?

I feel guilty.

Mircalla is on the ground and the statistics perhaps close to zero.

The [Poison cloud] was not very effective, but the Atmosphere-eater can do nothing against the direct bite.

It's unfair of me.

It's really unfair.

The sword falls onto the grate, its coral canes starting to intersect the metal holes.

“And so… I hope to talk enough to recharge the lightning, but you fooled me… he… he-he. It's not right. It's not right!”

Mircalla doesn't try to get up. She stops talking and just cries with her head bowed.

Ilnerio's sword dyes the enemy like water and I step forward.

I place my hand on her beautiful, soft tresses.

[Judgment]

[Judgment: Nightmare].

As expected, [Nightmare].

Some tears fall and drops of Mircalla accompany them. Her body begins to liquefy, mixing and diluting into the maelstrom below.

I hold the blue blade to my breast and observe the power of the water.

I don't know how much time passes.

Mircalla's smell did not disappear with her.

Her slimy sword is still there, exhaling sulfurous miasmas and moving her coils.

I look away from the sea and study that long mouth, the teeth, the tongues.

It is a horrible weapon, just as horrible as its creator must be.

I walk over to pick it up.

It's scorching.

Maybe, it's a weapon for me.

That I am a goddess incapable of consoling. A deceiver who doesn't know how to give even the last comfort to a passing deceased.

Ci-cin.

“I am sorry…”

Sigh.

“I'm very sorry.”

Life passes as boring as ever in the frontier house.

From time to time, I use [Dungeon path] to push myself to the edge of the desert.

Ci-cin.

Useless.

I find that [Dungeon path] only works within the limits of the membrane sky. Beyond the desert continues under the black vault of heaven but it is an empty sea.

Some ancestors walked that route, only to have to give up and return home. There is nothing, perhaps there is not even a reachable border.

Aside from that and continuing to give rest to the deceased, I continue with my explorations of the dungeon and with music.

I'm learning to play the harp. I can't wait for Sylviette to come back.

I continue to check the core area, but that demonic crow seems to still be far away.

In short…

I'm bored.

It's very boring.

I look at the Atmosphere-eater leaning next to the wardrobe.

Without the magic user, it tends to remain in the form of a black steel blade.

The hilt is shaped like bat wings and the pommel is maned with a pendant hanging down.

Looking at it arouses negative emotions in me, I haven't even scanned it. I put it there and I think I'll leave it there.

Luckily, other heroes passed by during this time. Belonging to different worlds, but all bearers of beautiful stories and each awarded with [Dream].

This is how it should be. It's always like this, whether they succeed or fail.

Ilnerio and Mircalla were victims of disastrous entities. The Devil one, this God of Wisdom the other.

I would like to be able to do something… even if Mircalla attacked me, deep down, I think I understand her. She wanted to defend the people she loved and even those she didn't love.

Ci-cin.

It's like Ilnerio says: there is nothing to plunder if the world doesn't exist.

The Underwasteland is an empty place.

Filled by its emptiness.

The ideal place to rest.

“AAH! How boring!”