Chapter 258: Sword Festival (XI)

Attempt Eighteen.

Gray stood at the edge of the offspring’s maw with both broken teeth in his hands, their uneven weight dragging slightly at his wrists.

The surface of each one was goomy slick, and he made a quiet effort not to think about what coated them as he adjusted his grip, once, then again, until the positioning felt as stable as he could manage under the circumstances.

He exhaled slowly through his nose.

“…Timing,” he murmured under his breath.

[Two seconds.]

“I know.”

Fwissh!

The moment he stepped out, his body dropped low out of habit, his momentum carrying him forward in a clean, direct line rather than the rolling motion he had relied on before.

There was no wasted movement now, no unnecessary shift in balance.

Both teeth struck the ridge almost at the same time, driven forward by the full weight of his body.

The first lodged into place.

The second slipped slightly at an angle.

The gap opened, but not enough.

Gray forced the rapier forward with both hands, pushing past the resistance of the plate.

Four inches.

Before he could drive it deeper, the worm’s response came earlier than expected.

KRRRRRRRRRR!

The contraction snapped inward.

SPLURT!

He died once again, reappearing back at the insides of the offspring, the same pungent smell, reaching out to his nostrils.

“…Too slow on the second wedge.”

[You hesitated.]

“I adjusted mid-motion.”

[And that adjustment cost you the depth you needed.]

“…Yeah,” he admitted quietly.

Attempt Nineteen.

This time, he committed fully before moving.

There would be no correction, no hesitation once he started.

The moment he exited the maw, everything followed in a single continuous motion. His steps were cleaner, tighter, and far more precise than before.

Fwishh!

Both teeth drove into the ridge with precision.

The gap opened wider than in the previous attempt.

Gray immediately followed through with the thrust.

Six inches.

For a brief instant, it seemed as though he had reached the threshold he needed.

Gurgle…!

But just then, the worm’s contraction came down with far more force than before.

Tick!

The wedges snapped almost instantly.

The plate slammed shut around the blade, trapping it in place.

Gray felt the torque twist violently through his wrist.

SPLURT!

He returned, exhaling more sharply this time.

“…Six inches… dammit.”

[You reached the required depth.]

“…Yeah… but it seems that reaching it is not the same as finishing the job.” He let out a tired sigh.

[Indeed.]

Gray closed his eyes briefly, replaying the moment in his head.

“The pressure behind the strike isn’t enough to break through whatever is beneath the plate,” he concluded, furrowing his eyebrows.

Attempt Twenty-One.

He altered his approach.

Instead of driving the blade straight in, he adjusted the angle slightly upward, intending to tear through the underlying structure rather than pierce it.

Fwip!

The execution was clean: the wedges held on, and the gap opened, allowing the blade to pierce six inches once again.

“…Phew, now…”

Twist!

This time, he twisted as soon as he felt resistance shift.

The green patch reacted immediately, pulsing in a strangely unbalanced rhythm. A ripple traveled through the worm’s body, deeper and more pronounced than any reaction he had triggered before.

For a brief moment, something felt different.

Then the response came… something that Gray totally didn’t expect, and literally… from the sides.

The force struck the blade from the side, snapping it cleanly before he could react.

CRACK!

Gray stared at the broken hilt in his hand after reforming, his expression flattening.

“Fuck.”

SPLURT!

He died.

“…That’s new.”

[The worm’s insides… are surprisingly hard. I guess that’s a given coming from a Saint-level Ground Devouring Worm.]

“…Yeah. Which means repeating the same angle won’t work anymore.”

Attempts continued.

One after another, they blurred together, not because they were identical but because each one forced a small adjustment, a minor correction, or a refinement in timing or positioning.

Gray stopped thinking about the motion itself.

Every decision was made beforehand and executed immediately, without a single shred of hesitation.

And yet… it still wasn’t enough.

Every time he progressed, he found yet another problem.

And this time, he found out that the worm, instead of having the normal force field coating her body, had it actually protecting any weak points, including its organs.

Because of that… the teeth that Gray had been using to pierce her body were pretty much useless.

Attempt… he had lost count somewhere along the way.

At this point, the number no longer mattered.

What mattered was the result.

And the result, no matter how many times he repeated the process, remained the same.

Failure.

The moment his blade got close to anything vital, the resistance changed.

The density increased unnaturally, as though the worm were redirecting the entirety of its defensive field to that exact point.

Which meant…

“…The teeth are useless now,” he mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows.

[They won’t get you deep enough anymore.]

“They were barely enough before.”

[Now they’re nothing more than tools to slow you down.]

Gray didn’t respond to that because she was mainly right; if anything, he was happy that she thought like that.

He moved anyway.

Another attempt.

Another execution.

Another failure.

SPLURT!

When he reappeared inside the offspring’s mouth, his body formed in a slight forward lean, as though the momentum from his previous movement had carried over into this one.

He straightened slowly.

For a few moments, he didn’t move a single bone of his body. Then he exhaled through his nose in an almost irritated manner.

“…Alright,” he muttered.

No plan came to mind immediately.

No clean solution presented itself.

So instead, he did what he had been doing from the beginning.

He moved.

Step by step, he walked toward the exit of the offspring’s mouth again, his grip tightening slightly around the rapier as he approached the threshold.

When he stepped out, he instantly looked up and waited.

Craasshhhhh!!!

The ceiling above him distorted for a fraction of a second before splitting apart, the massive body of the worm forcing its way through the stone as though it didn’t exist at all.

Its mouth was already open, positioned directly above him with perfect accuracy, awaiting to devour him.

“…Sigh,” Gray muttered under his breath.

There was no point in trying the same approach again.

No point in forcing another strike against the plate.

So, instead of stepping away, he bent his knees slightly and suddenly… jumped, straight upward, directly into the worm’s mouth.

[Gray?]

He didn’t answer Jasmine’s voice.

The moment he entered, everything changed.

The space inside the worm was far more compact than he expected, the inner walls tightening almost immediately as though reacting to his presence.

The rows of teeth didn’t stop at the mouth.

They extended inward, almost as if they reached its stomach.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, his voice low as he pushed forward, trying to force his way further inside before the worm could react fully.

For a brief moment, it seemed possible.

If he could reach deeper, and pierce her organs from within… he’d be able to kill it.

But it seems that he still lacked information about that damn worm.

Because… suddenly, the inner rows of teeth shifted inward with unnatural speed, closing gaps that shouldn’t have been able to close, extending far deeper than their structure should have allowed.

Gray barely had time to register it.

CRAKKKK!

The first impact crushed his arm.

The second collapsed his torso.

By the time he tried to pull back, there was nowhere left to move as the teeth folded inward, grinding, tearing, crushing everything in between with overwhelming force.

SPLURT!

Gray reappeared inside the offspring’s mouth again, but this time, the moment his body fully formed, he staggered slightly to the side.

His hand went to his stomach almost immediately.

“…Ugh…”

The reaction came without warning.

A sharp, twisting discomfort settled in his gut, his expression tightening as the sensation lingered far longer than any of the others had.

“Ugh…”

His stomach growled.

“…That’s new,” he muttered, his face twisting with visible disgust.

[You jumped into its digestive tract.]

“I noticed.”

[Your body might reset, but your senses still register what happened.]

“…Yeah…”

He glanced back toward the exit of the offspring’s mouth, his grip on the rapier tightening again as the discomfort slowly faded.

“That’s not an option,” he added.

[Clearly.]

“Ahh… fuck, how could I forget about that?” Gray groaned slighly.

[Huh?]

“Atrinae’s special skill… I completely forgot about it.”

[…Oh.]

“Her Prism Sovereignty skill.”

He looked down at the small snake still coiled on his arm, her white scales rising and falling with her breathing.

“Nine consecutive non-elemental shockwaves. Each one strips a buff or reduces resistance.” He exhaled through his nose.

“A Saint-level creature’s defensive field is still a buff. If Atrinae can strip it layer by layer…”

[It would leave the weak points exposed…]

Jasmine finished for him, also letting out a sigh.

[Gray… why didn’t you think of this earlier?]

“Because Atrinae is Peak King Realm,” he stated flatly. “Using a King-level ability against a Saint-level creature didn’t seem viable.”

[But the skill targets buffs directly. Realm difference affects damage, not the stripping mechanic.]

“Exactly what I just realized…”

He looked at Atrinae.

She opened one golden eye, as if she had been listening the entire time.

“…Sorry for the wait,” he smiled lightly.

“I need you.”

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