The Berserker’s Second Playthrough Novel - Chapter 63

Chapter 63
## Chapter: 63

### Chapter Title: Sons of the Wilderness (6)

—

The perception of the fallen Atalain fighter had been accurate.

The inherent ability of this foul creature was “lignification.” It had utilized that power to transform its surroundings into the texture of timber, replicating the attributes of a nearby “golden ironwood” specimen.

Consequently, the demon didn’t merely look like the golden ironwood—it possessed its literal properties. This meant that no standard steel could leave a mark on its skin, much less sever it.

* Trivial vermin with your tiny teeth… bite all you want… it matters not…

The monster continued to flick its tongue, mumbling in fragmented speech. It had been momentarily startled by the force of the approaching axe, yet it made no move to defend itself further. It appeared convinced that regardless of the strength applied, the strike could never penetrate its reinforced exterior…

―――――― Creeeeak-crunch!

…However, 그 assumption was violently demolished.

The axe’s edge ripped through the outer layer, grinding the wooden anatomy beneath into shards. A massive gap appeared—a hole sufficiently large to shove an entire limb into the core.

Despite the resilience of golden ironwood, it remained a plant at its foundation. It was incapable of resisting the eternal frost essence shaped by the hands of dwarf smiths. Furthermore, with the enhancements from his lineage and the tattoos surging with power, the axe struck with a momentum capable of toppling fortresses.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoooosh—thunk!

Kadim pulled the weapon back through a gravitational tug, then launched it once more. He began a relentless sequence of ranged strikes, sending the weapon flying like bolts from a heavy ballista.

―――――― Creeeeak-crunch! Creeeeak-crunch!

The wooden column was carved away without mercy. Limbs trembled violently, and the main body tottered unsteadily, its stability failing. The demon started reciting incantations in a booming, panicked tone.

* Spleen, liver, gallbladder, lungs, eyes, mind, kidneys, marrow…

Krunch—crack!

Heavy boughs swung down like limbs to obstruct the blade. Tendrils from smaller shoots attempted to snare the weapon, but Kadim retracted it first with a pulse of gravity.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoooosh—thud!

The creature spread its mesh of vines and boughs like a spider’s web, ready to intercept the next projectile. Kadim was not fooled. This time, instead of throwing, he took Mosquito and his salmon axe firmly in his grip and sprinted directly toward the adversary.

“Hraaaaaaargh!!”

Krunch, crack, craaaack!

The shining steel left streaks in the air as it sliced through the blocking wood like a storm. Even appendages as broad as a troll’s leg were lopped off and broken like twigs. In Kadim’s wake, mounds of timber piled up like small dunes.

He arrived at the creature’s base in heartbeats. Now was the moment for the finishing strike, one it could neither avoid nor parry. He put away his axes and grasped the hilt of the dagger at his hip.

The demon was not passive.

* …Gallbladder, gut, lungs—everything shattering, shattering, shattering, shattering…

Rumble-rumble-ruuuuumble… Cr-r-rack, crrrrack…

The monster ripped itself from the earth and ascended. Silt merged with corrupt energy, spinning in a murky tempest. The unearthed roots coiled into massive pillars for legs, while the remaining boughs merged into titanic arms. What had once been a stationary tree shifted in a heartbeat into a wooden titan.

A sound leaked out, as thick as fluid from a festering sore.

* Shattering.

Immediately after, a timber fist dropped with world-breaking force.

―――――――― BOOM!

The earth failed under the pressure and collapsed into a pit. Kadim dodged the strike with ease, but sharp briars exploded from the ground where he had just stood. He jumped by instinct, narrowly escaping having his torso impaled.

Whoo—roooar ―――――――― BOOM!

Another fist crashed down in rapid succession. The pattern continued. He evaded, yet thorns surged in a hidden trap. He jumped again, dodging once more. But Kadim understood this cycle couldn’t persist—eventually, a strike would land that he couldn’t bypass, just like the previous encounter.

Thus, he flipped his hold on the dagger’s grip, coiled the muscles in his legs, and prepared for the next descent.

Whoo—roooar!

With flawless precision, he leaped, plunging the burning dagger deep into the creature’s forearm. He then sprinted up the limb, slicing a path toward its neck.

“Hraaaaaaargh!!”

Craaaack—

Golden ironwood was not merely sturdy—it was incredibly resistant to heat. Common fire wouldn’t even leave a singe, let alone ignite it.

But this blade had been crafted from the holy armament of an arch paladin. The flame within was hellfire, saturated with Elga’s blessing—the singular force that demons truly dreaded.

Fwooooosh-roar!

A vibrant ribbon of scarlet fire cut through the arm. From the wound, a primal blaze erupted, consuming the hardened bark. For the first time, a shriek of true pain—not its usual gibberish—erupted from the demon’s throat.

* Graaaah, graaaaaaaaagh!!

Kadim pressed on. He sprinted across its collar, scaled the branches, cut through the foliage, and slid down its spine—tearing its skin. Wherever the steel touched, crimson infernos took root. When vines and limbs tried to grab him, he swung his axes in a blur, lopping them off.

* Graaaaaagh, graaaaaaaaagh!!

From the highest leaf to the deepest root, the wooden titan’s whole frame was swallowed by hellfire. Sparks jumped to Kadim as well, but it didn’t matter. The Hydra’s tattoo mended even the worst burns in seconds.

As the creature’s exterior turned to ash, a thought occurred to Kadim.

‘…How am I supposed to harvest blood from this thing?’

Demons without blood usually provided equivalent fluids or resins, but this entity was nothing but scorched timber—a complication. And now he had ignited the entire target…

However, Kadim spotted a solution. There was one part of the demon that wasn’t composed of wood.

* Graaagh, searing, infant, charred newborn, sibling’s dry ribs bound in stalks, hallowed jars, tomb-skulls in ritual, graaaaaaaaagh…

Its unending, babbling throat and tongue.

Splurch!

He pried its maw open and swung the salmon axe. The steel hissed, taking off the lips, the gums, and the tongue simultaneously. Thick, dark ichor bubbled up, collecting beneath the severed tongue.

* Graaaaaaaaagh!! Graaaaaaaaagh!!

Kadim smirked like a traveler finding a well in the desert. There it is, the blood I need.

Splat, splat, thwack!

He crushed every tooth and filled a glass container from his gear. His task was complete, but before retreating, he provided a final parting. He drove the dagger deep into the creature’s gullet and threw himself clear.

Stab, fwooooosh-roar!

* Eeeeeeek!!

Howls blended with rising fire—the monster was being consumed from within and without by hellfire. Shoots and limbs lashed at the sky, roots kicked in desperation. Under the pale moonlight, the wooden giant performed a violent dance of death, sparks drifting like a collapsing nebula behind it.

Finally, the grand silhouette turned to coal and tumbled.

――――― Kuuu—boom!

Fwoosh! Crackle, crackle…

With so much mass to burn, the fire raged on for some time. Every falling ember brought the demon closer to its end.

Kadim felt the heat of his bloodlust finally cooling. To get his dagger back, he would have to wait for the blaze to subside. He sat down, wiped the mixture of sweat and gore from his face, and rested by the heat of the fire.

* Gra, graaaaa…

“……”

Crackle, crackle…

* Graaaaa…

“Good fire.”

Intense heat radiated, smoke rose, and the demonic presence evaporated.

The night of hunting, painted in flame and slaughter, finally concluded. A silent morning arrived.

Aside from their fallen commander Tundal, Perun was the most skilled of the Atalain warriors.

Because of this, he acted as the second-in-command for the group. The fighters had thrown their weapons at Tundal on his signal, recognized Kadim as the new chief on his advice, and allowed him to trail Kadim alone—all due to their respect for Perun’s judgment.

So when he came back missing an arm, the group was shaken.

“Great Atala… Perun, what happened to your limb?”

“Cursed luck, first Lord Tundal, and now you… You weren’t struck down by that man, were you?”

“Was it the demon’s doing? Or that brute of a mercenary? Explain what occurred!”

“……”

But Perun found it hard to respond. He was still haunted by the strange apparition he had witnessed just before.

‘I will settle the score for your lost arm myself.’

The moment Kadim uttered those words, Perun saw it.

The light became as bright as high noon, and the forest faded away. In its place, a fractured, desolate desert occupied his sight.

In the center of that waste stood a combatant, framed by the sun. A golden gale swirled around his frame like a mantle, and the markings across his torso shone like the fangs of a beast. Savage tools of immense power were strapped to his back—the most prominent being a massive war-axe carved with primal symbols.

‘That weapon…’

Before he could process it, a realization hit: the identity of the warrior was seared into his soul.

Atala’s supreme agent, carrying out the war god’s judgment on the world. The deliverer who would wipe out the spreading darkness and usher them into a cycle of eternal combat and celebration.

The fighter scanned the desert with solemn eyes, tracking his enemies. He gripped the heavy axe with steady hands. Perun was certain that no adversary, not even one capable of ending existence, could survive him.

But the true threat was not outside, but within.

Crunch, craaaack—

The moment something so foul it could stop a heart erupted from the warrior’s own body…

…the dream shattered.

As abruptly as it had taken hold, Perun was snapped back to the present. He stared blankly at the tree-demon and the massive sellsword. Then he recovered, accepted Kadim’s terms, and hurried back here.

‘Visions of that nature… I thought only the desert seers were granted them… Why did it manifest for me…’

He pushed the thought away. This wasn’t the time for philosophy. Perun regained his composure and briefed the warriors—leaving out the spiritual vision.

“…That is how the beast caught me. A two-horned variety. I lost my limb without even getting close, and now that man fights it by himself.”

“……!”

The warriors could not mask their distress.

A two-horned greater demon was at the peak of its power. Even their combined strength would likely fail. Unless an individual embraced “Atala’s miracle” and gave their life…

“Should we not go to his aid immediately? No matter how powerful that man is, taking on a greater demon solo is suicide…”

One warrior suggested hesitantly, but Perun shook his head.

“No, his orders were specific. Under no circumstances are we to approach. As he commanded earlier, focus on the corrupted beasts in the vicinity.”

“……”

“Keep this in mind: our commander now is that man. I lost my arm because Atala delivered judgment for ignoring the leader’s directive. Do not repeat my error—follow his word without hesitation.”

It sounded logical. It was impossible for a single mortal to kill a greater demon, but breaking the chain of command was forbidden. The warriors gave a reluctant nod. Left with no alternative, they joined the regular soldiers in tracking the bark-skinned monsters through the night.

As the sun began to rise, the fighters noticed a change. The creatures became sluggish, their aggression fading. The men exchanged looks of disbelief.

“……”

“……”

They had to see for themselves. The warriors signaled to one another, formed a loose line, and moved toward the location of the greater demon.

Eventually, the task force arrived—11 Atalain fighters and 25 regular soldiers—and took in the sight.

The massive demon, completely burned from its base to its highest crown, had fallen. Perched upon it was the giant mercenary, his blade driven into the carcass in victory. The first light of dawn broke through the haze, silhouetting them in a golden glow.

“……”

No one uttered a word. Not a sound was made. They simply stood there, watching. Hearts beat with intensity, their chests tightening.

Had they ever seen such an incredible sight? Such a legendary accomplishment? The scene possessed an ancient, mythic quality that captivated even the skeptical soldiers, to say nothing of the Atalain disciples of the desert faith.

In the stillness, Perun was the first to act.

To him, the warrior from the vision was identical to Kadim. Uncontrollable passion swelled within him. He drove his sword into the dirt, dropped to a single knee, and struck his chest with his remaining fist—thump-thump—roaring.

“Honor to Atala! Honor to the champion who became his edge and broke the arch-fiend!”

“……”

The pause was short. The rest of the warriors followed suit, slamming their steel into the ground. They knelt, pounding their chests with fervor—thump-thump—showing the highest Atalain sign of loyalty and wonder.

“Honor to Atala! Honor to the champion who became his edge and broke the arch-fiend!”

“Honor to Atala! Honor to the champion who became his edge and broke the arch-fiend!”

The fighters’ eyes shone like the morning sun. Their shouts fused into a single roar. Passionate cheers rang out across the early morning landscape. Even the dim sky seemed to brighten with their energy.

Intimidated, the regular soldiers felt small. Uncertain if they should remain standing, they looked around nervously, then dropped to both knees, trying to mimic the chant.

“Uh, yeah, honor to Atala… and… honor to the brother…”

“H-honor to Atala… what was it, great honor to the sword…”

“Honor to the brother, uh… honor to the arch-fiend as well…”

“……”

The commander of the force. The lone hero who had slain a greater demon. The mercenary who was now the object of worship for both his people and the soldiers. And the man who was currently retrieving his knife, preparing to climb down—but frozen as the entire crowd knelt before him.

Kadim held his grip on the hilt in silence, looking down at the group, thinking:

‘……These crazy task force idiots.’