The Silent Pact of a Wolf Babysitter
Chapter 73: …Tha… Tha…nk… You…Lord Ra…ven…

Chapter 73: ...Tha... Tha...nk... You...Lord Ra...ven...

Lord Ruben shot into the air like a released arrow, descending with terrifying force onto the spider devil’s back—

SCRRRRRRRUNCH!!

The sound of cracking and breaking frames filled the plains, interwoven with the spider’s shrill cry of pure agony.

But it didn’t last long.

Still crouched on its back, Lord Ruben calmly balled his fist and, without ceremony, swung it—fast, precise—right at the human head of the spider.

It crumpled inward like an overripe fruit dropped from a great height.

Completely destroyed.

The spider body stood for a heartbeat longer... then collapsed.

"Is it dead?" Chiyama asked, wary.

"No," Bladir replied. "But it’ll take a while to regenera—!! What?!"

His shock was justified.

The spider had lunged, its scythe-leg piercing through our Lord’s arm like a needle through cloth.

Stupid, stupid beast.

He was going to let you go. Let you crawl back into the darkness and live.

But you—

I, who once despised the insect, began to feel condolences for its ill fortune.

Lord Ruben turned his gaze to the scythe embedded in his arm.

Then, without emotion, he lifted his arm—with the spider still attached—and smashed it into the other side of the ground.

The plains cracked and sank under the force.

The spider twitched, but held on, leg still pierced into his flesh.

He lifted it again—smashed. Again. Smashed. And again. Smashed.

But it clung on, in severe agony and trembling, refusing to let go.

How very sad.

Freedom was right there.

Escape.

Rest.

A reprieve from this wretched land where no beast dares wander.

It could have hidden, healed, and returned to its pitiful life of looting and small-time terror.

So why...? Why that desperate fixation on the amulet?

It can’t have been hers.

Devils burn under holy energy. They recoil, rot, die.

That amulet—it should never have blessed her in the first place.

Maybe... maybe because it was sealed in the sack?

Or—no.

Is it possible... she wasn’t a devil before?

Did this spider... get transformed?

Or maybe a cursed woman...

Whatever the truth, it no longer matters.

Her time has come.

Our Supreme Lord, in his boundless mercy, decided to end her suffering.

"Well then," he said with a loving smile, "if you like me that much..."

A thick black mist oozed from his form, pooling and rising—shaping into the monstrous head of a wolf.

The spider’s human head had begun to regenerate—only partially. It tilted up weakly to look at him.

"...Tha... Tha...nk... you...Lord Ra...ven..." she rasped.

Then—

CRUNCH!!

The mist-wolf clamped its jaws shut, devouring everything.

Only three of her legs remained, twitching as they hit the blood-soaked ground.

Sigh...

Was this the price of greed?

Or just another sad story tucked into the many littering this cursed land?

Anyway... rest in peace, Jorōgumo. Inside my Lord.

Your life must’ve been awful—I’m assuming. You must’ve sought deliverance for God knows how long...

But fortune, strange as it is, has smiled upon you.

Rejoice—You get to spend eternity inside the sacred bowels of this Great Fenrir.

But...

How did she know his original name...?

*End of POV*

***

Wow. That was fun.

So this is what Sarvest and Levi felt when they were beating me so hard I saw flashbacks of Asgard and my now-missing parents?

Incredible. No wonder they couldn’t help themselves.

I take back every judgment. Actually, I don’t.

With the amulet gone, Jorō turned into easy pickings.

I was going to kill her outright, but then compassion hit me.

You know, pity for the weak and all that noble stuff.

So I decided: why not torment her instead?

Break her spirit. And just use the treasures of the sack to compensate for the joy of killing her off.

Except, she just wouldn’t give up.

Crying, "Give... it... back."

Ma’am.

Lady. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Do you realize how much that made me want to keep it?

And smash you up a little more?

I crushed her pretty face like a melon dropped from the sky. Then I honestly thought, "Let’s stop here. This is getting excessive."

Before I start getting real haters.

But nooo, she had to go and pierce my arm.

It hurt so bad. She must’ve put in a lot of heart into that one.

But I had to keep a straight face. The Phantom Fangs were watching.

Especially Bladir(?), that hawk-eyed bastard who had been watching the whole struggle like a keen instructor.

I tried to shake her off—politely.

But no way. She was stuck on like the trauma Sarvest gave me.

So... I figured, if she loved me that much—sure.

Take a little timeout in the Shadow Realm and reflect.

Of course, she’d die of spiritual suffocation in that place—no air, too much magic, no hope.

Just void.

Her life force would get shredded and absorbed by the realm.

Which, by default, boosts my magic and makes me even harder to kill—strengthening my foothold in the grand realm of power.

Now, kids, moral of the story: this is why we shouldn’t be greedy.

Now look, I’m stealing the sack of treasure she left behind like the noble soul I am.

But wait.

Did I... hear her thank me?

Andcallmebymyoriginalname? But that one’s probably my imagination. Let’s not hurt our head thinking about it.

Nah. No way.

I mean, who thanks their killer?

Now I’m scared!

Though, if she’d said, "Ugh, you win, you dashing hunk. Now take my treasures and give them to the poor," I wouldn’t have liked that very much.

But on second thought...

I was poor. Not a single dime to my name.

Bond stripped me of everything I achieved back in Gihon—left me with nothing but my fur.

So if her final wish was to help the poor... why not?

I’ll help myself, alright.

But, ugh... it pains me, truly. However, I have to honor her dying request.

{Master, it’d be more believable if you could stop grinning.}

(Shut up. Where have you even been? Probably analyzing that amulet, huh?)

{...}

And she’s gone again.

I wonder what she’ll do with Jorō’s corpse.

Platform has no apparent emotions or sympathy for anyone.

Well—whatever she does, she better save the spider parts for me.

I could sell them in one of the Pison towns. Spider demon limbs go for decent gold, I hear. I hope.

If Jorō did want to help me crawl out of poverty, she wouldn’t mind.

"That was a great battle, my Lord."

One of the Phantom Fangs—the mature lady—appeared silently beside me.

All of them had moved in close, actually. Closer than I noticed.

They could’ve lopped off my head right then.

Well, they’ll also die too, of course.

"Yes. I was impressed by your display of strength and technique."

This one is Fangstrong, right?

And that’s Chiyama on his shoulder.

But, ah. G-Great strength, they say?

Well, I am strong. But I shouldn’t let that get to my head.

Remember— "sewer rats die screaming in the dark when they get too confident." My mother told me.

"Yeah. He was awesome. And really compassionate too."

...Okay. Now Chiyama’s scaring me.

Compassionate?

Which part of the beatdown I gave Jorō looked compassionate? Even I knew I was being mean!

Is she saying... I went easy on her?!

"But my Lord..." Bladir (he’s Bladir, right?) asked quietly, almost a whisper. "...Your damages... do they hurt?"

...Aww.

How sweet. He was worried about me constantly getting stabbed by a pest. What a cutie who have never faced the Ragnarok that is Sarvest, my nemesis and horror, personified.

Actually, all of them started acting awkward after that last question.

"Hehehe." I puffed up my chest. "That was nothing! I’ve taken far more agonizing hits and came out in one piece. Your Lord isn’t so weak, you know."

Their eyes started sparkling.

All of them, wide-eyed and full of wonder.

Okay, okay! Before they start licking me again—and now that they’re in human form, that would definitely be rated-18, and can only be found in the pink book version of TSPWB (ask the perverted Author)—let’s end this here.

Sunset was creeping in anyway.

That really took more Chapters than expected, just for one annoying spider devil with a fearsome magical item... but we’re done now.

I opened the ripple gate, letting the Phantom Fangs drag the giant crab corpse in behind them.

Hehehe. Seafood tonight. Secured.

Hopefully, Platform still remembers the recipes I shook down from those human chefs.

As I followed the Fangs through, I felt a gaze.

A sharp one. Cold. Watching me.

I turned.

It disappeared immediately.

A monster?

Had to be a dreadful one. Only something powerful could survive in a cursed place like this.

Still... let’s leave before it gets bold enough to follow me.

And if it does follow me into Coastelle, well...

I’ll be the one worrying for its safety.

But stepping into world submerged in water hit me with two big shocks.

First—

I thought time flowed differently in this region.

How is it the same time over here? —the orange hues of sunset.

Still don’t get how this place works.

And the second shock—

Everyone was staring at me.

With unrestrained bloodlust.

Even Alicia.

Some bloodlust even approached the Phantom Fangs near me, but I could vaguely guess why—they were in human form...

But the main pressure wasn’t directed at them.

No... it was coming straight past me.

Or rather—

Behind me.

"Oh, dear," Levi put a hand to her cheek. "I didn’t expect you to arrive so late. I thought you’d never show up... Jobina."

Jobina?

I still didn’t sense anything behind me, but—

Let’s just look—

SMASH!!

As I started to turn my head, a fist crashed into my cheek so hard I literally felt my brain compress.

It squished. Like sponge. Like fat.

It felt alien, good, and throbbing.

Then I was flying, no, drilling through the green grass, plowing dirt like a farming machine.

Delicious.

That hurt so much, I wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said Bond himself punched me.

Was this karma?

For what I did to Jorō?

C’mon! That was justice! You saw it too, right?!

"My, my, my!" A female voice I didn’t know rang out as I tried to unearth my face from the ground. "Is this place some kind of domain expansion without the barier? Or just a glorified demiplane?"

I groaned, turning toward the speaker and clutching my swelling, fractured cheek.

A girl.

Young, maybe slightly older than Alicia.

Dressed in a dark green fitted outfit, with a flaming fist emblem across her chest.

Finger-pierced gloves.

Dark, splendid, combat-style shoes which hugged her feet.

"And who might you be?" I croaked, trying to get the words out without drooling blood.

"Or more importantly... how did you get in here?!"

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