Clearing the Game at the End of the World

****

Crack!

"Phew! You seem really worn out. Are you going to give up? If it's too hard, you can just lie down here."

“*Cough, cough!* Ugh… If I ever believe you again, I'm a fool. When I first went down after taking a hit, you came running over with a worried look asking if I was okay, and then you trampled me into the ground so hard it split in two."

"Hahaha. That's what you get for messing around. As soon as Idrasil came to me, she said ‘That human's head exploded, but he's still walking around.' You wouldn't die from just a bit of chest crushing, would you?"

Insane.

"Just because of that, you go around crushing people? ‘He won't die unless the core in his chest is destroyed.', what would you do if it were that?"

"Hmm… That wasn't it?"

"To be so sure after splitting it open, doesn't that disqualify you as a human!"

Insane. There's no need to say it twice – this elf is insane! 300 years of time must have turned her brain into tofu!

Involuntarily, I participated in the Great Mother's ‘morning exercise' for 10 minutes.

Professor now deeply missed Hyde, who would be struggling outside to keep him alive.

If Hyde were here, he would have controlled the infection agents to suppress the healing of the wound, allowing me to comfortably be half-dead and cared for by my comrades.

Crack!

Initially, I emptied my mind and thought of it as a good experience. Honestly, it's a bit brutal, but surely it's a rare opportunity?

From the global perspective to now, I would only see such a top-tier hero unit at the end of the World 3 main scenario, in the final battle. I thought it was good to see how much I had grown, and how much more I needed to grow.

Until I took a few hits.

Crash!

The massive hammer that should have been slowed down was swung with a speed invisible to the eye, splitting the wooden floor.

"Now you're quite good at dodging!"

"If I don't dodge, I'd be dead, thanks to you showing me!"

Even though wooden splinters flew like grenade shrapnel and embedded in my skin, thanks to the slight increase in my durability from the mute effect, they didn't pierce through like they used to. After all, civilians wouldn't normally get pierced by flying sawdust.

Anyway, after getting hit a few times and desperately dodging, the attacks became slightly more recognizable.

Creak!

‘It's coming!’

First, the sound of the wood splitting. Due to the heavy weapon, even a light charge broke the ground at the moment of kicking off, signaling the start of the attack.

Whoosh!

A pattern now familiar after being thoroughly beaten a few times. A standard downward strike, predictable enough to anticipate and counter. If you don't move away far enough, the shock from the strike on the ground disrupts your balance.

Creak!

If I step aside in advance and dodge, I follow through and use my left foot as a pivot to strike upward. It seems as if gravity or inertia doesn't affect that hammer, which, like wielding a rapier or dagger, reverses in a moment's notice to aim for the jaw.

Thud!

‘I got hit in the chest here earlier. I see it now. It's becoming visible!’

The Great Mother's style of attack was more reminiscent of swordplay than pure retreat techniques, particularly the kind used by elves.

True to a race that poured all their stats into archery skills, their melee was weaker, hence they developed a style based on shock and retreat to maintain distance from an approaching opponent.

The Great Mother was using that technique with her crude battle hammer. A deadly jab that would kill if it hit, and if the shock made the opponent flinch, she wouldn't retreat but charge again, forcing another blow!

‘The attacks themselves are preparing for the next strike. She swung upward. The weapon went up and her arm raised, the next shortest path is…

Crack!

"Oh-ho."

"…Elbow!"

The moment the hard, rock-like wooden elbow was blocked by the black left arm, the Great Mother's eyes sparkled with intrigue. As he blocked the elbow and simultaneously the knee flying to his side, wrinkles formed on the Great Mother's face, which had been full of smiles.

"…Magic?"

"I've accumulated some skills over the years too!"

Thump!

The effect of the Blood Armor, converting the shock fully into propulsion, forced the Great Mother's knee to bend significantly back. My upper body had already burrowed in, escaping the strike zone of the battle hammer. Finally, the initiative in the fight returned to me. After being beaten to a pulp, finally!

"You said personal feelings shouldn't remain!"

Krraaaack!

A terrible sound of muscles being squeezed out accompanied my punch, and the fist, glowing with a white light, flew in a perfect trajectory toward the old elf's face.

With arms and legs subdued, using my greater size and reach to press down with a crushing punch. In a momentary exchange as quick as lightning, a perfect strike that read the opponent and pierced through her guard!

Swoosh!

Amid my heightened senses, the punch glowing with white light tore through the air,

And just as the thought "It hit!" flashed through my mind.

"…You do hit hard."

Whooooosh!!!!

With the Great Mother's low voice accompanying it, I was suddenly flying through the air. Not the Great Mother, but me.

‘Why? I was sure… I had her perfectly grabbed. And now her arm is still in my hand…!'

The sky is yellow. Not just metaphorically, but genuinely as bright as forsythia.

Unbeknownst to me, yellow powder that had seeped around my eyes now obscured my vision, and every joint in my arms and legs felt stiff and painfully hindered my movements.

Creak!

That sound again. With the sound of kicking off the ground, even before my body hit the earth, the Great Mother, raising her hammer, appeared in my blurry vision. She was laughing with all her teeth showing, wielding the massive battle hammer with one intact arm instead of a broken wooden one. The fervor of battle mixed with madness approached like a mountain through my half-obscured vision.

Ah, I'm dead.

Boom!

As if really intending to kill me, without any hint of stopping, a rough mass of minerals filled my view.

Clang, clang, clang, clang!

Screeeeeech!

From somewhere below, a sound like banging on a pot followed, and by the narrowest margin, the hammer missed my head.

Creak, thud, thud.

The yellow powder that filled my sight started to disappear as if it were a lie.

…Gulp.

As soon as my vision cleared, what caught my eye was the head of the hammer lodged precisely next to my temple. The morning air felt cool, and mist seemed to rise subtly in the air, heated by the friction as if it had been swung with intense force. If it had really hit me, I would have been dead.

"Hmm. It's a bit disappointing, but if we go any further, it will complicate mealtime. Shall we stop here?"

"Damn it. In the end, I couldn't land even a single blow."

"Huhuhu. To think that you, who hasn't even lived a hundred years, got this far against me. Do you expect more?"

Ssshh, ssshh—

As she turned her back, I saw something embedded in my joints and skin slithering out like a snake.

"Is this… a flower? A tree stem?"

"You have sufficient senses and skills, but it's clear you lack experience. You shouldn't forget the species of the one in front of you."

The Great Mother, El-Farna, kicked one of the wood chips scattered on the floor towards me like sawdust.

Crushed wood chips. When I rubbed it slightly with my fingertips, the outer shell peeled off, revealing a small, streamlined seed inside. A smooth, brown seed.

Seeing the scattered wood fragments around me, I realized what the Great Mother had done.

The first strike, a massive miss that hit the floor, and the splinters that flew towards me. I had dismissed the minor injuries, thinking I had dodged the attack.

"Could it be that wasn't a miss?"

"Don't assume what you see is all there is. Isn't it a battle with an elf? You should have expected an attack related to plants."

Typical elf talk.

"Honestly, do you really think you fit the ‘elf' label?"

"Huhuhu. Of course! More than anyone else."

Rumble—

With the final blow draining all strength from toe to head, Professor collapsed on the wooden floor, now filled with seeds or fragments, just as naturally as he had risen. Seeing the walls, table, chairs, and even the kitchen sprouting around the natural wooden floor almost made me laugh.

‘Aside from combat power, how could her fighting style be so ruthless?'

A heavy weapon called a hammer. The plants that burrow into the skin and the pollen from the flowers that grow there.

Stiffening, binding, blinding— a warrior specializing in crowd control debuffs (MEZE).

The elf retreat technique (戰槌) she used was originally a horrific monster born from overlaying a heavy weapon on the elf swordsmanship, which typically involved scattering spiritual energy and confusing enemies with flowers and trees.

Binding and then striking. The essence of brutality executed with the utmost delicacy.

‘Ah, Cheonryuje, how on earth did you beat such a monster….’

With hands trembling from anemia, he left a message on the wooden floor with the blood still fresh on his chest.

[Cheonryuje. El-Farna Duel Video.]

‘I'll have to study this later. I need to see how she was caught and beaten.'

Leaving a note as if it were his dying message, Professor then passed out completely. He had no energy left in his body and didn't want to move at all.

"Stop exaggerating and get up. That spot is where the bookshelf should go."

"Yes."

Of course, it wasn't as if I could simply do as I wished because I wanted to. The fearsome elven grandmother pointed towards the kitchen with a gesture and then instructed me to catch a fish from the river outside the village.

"Are there any foods you avoid?"

Crack, crunch!

"Well, I have to eat whatever is given to me."

"That's right, that's how it should be."

Before I knew it, the Great Mother had donned an apron and was holding a kitchen knife and some roots in one hand.

Professor, seeing her appearance now juxtaposed with that of ‘battle-frenzied Great Mother' from earlier, hurriedly sprinted toward the riverbank.

It was too, too frightening.

****

"Oh! What a truly humble and beautiful home! May new winds find and stay in the old branches. I am Ottman Boudelaire, from the Reed Flow school of magic."

"Good. It's fortunate to meet with smiling faces. Welcome, human mage. I heard you've suffered from your unique…. chronic condition since arriving in Caneran?"

Around 7 AM, under the disdainful gaze (and guidance) of Idrasil, Ottman had arrived at the Great Mother's cabin and was ceaselessly expressing his admiration.

"Hehe, I showed quite the embarrassing side of myself. Having lived a lifetime pursuing water and flow as a scholar, seeing such a rare spirit up close, I couldn't contain my curiosity and just…"

"No need to make excuses. In my younger days, I knocked out several imperial mages who rushed at me with their eyes rolled back. I knew long ago that mages bear no malice. It's like a… racial instinct, of the ‘mage' species. There’s no need to think ill of you for that. Are you feeling better now?"

"Fortunately, one of my colleagues is proficient in alchemy. Now, it's just a small sense of anticipation tickling my heart."

Ottman said this as he showed the stopper of a vial hanging from his robe. Although he claimed to be well, the hurried manner in which he drank his potion, along with the bulging number of vials against his robe, suggested he was surviving on the effects of the medicine and sheer willpower.

"Then, shall we continue our conversation over a meal? I've revived an old recipe once favored by the empire's water mages, so I hope you'll enjoy it without any reservations."

Tap, tap.

As the Great Mother tapped her fingers on the table, Professor behind her quickly brought over eight bowls and placed them on the table with great politeness.

"Why are you…. doing this here?"

"….Let's talk later. I'm distressed."

Click.

After a morning of strenuous activity that involved digesting strange potions and moving so vigorously that I barely had any strength left, my stomach felt like it was stuck to my back.

Though I had been thoroughly thrashed since the morning, the food, at least, was blameless.

As Professor had seen the food in front of him being prepared, he felt an overwhelming desire to bury his head in the bowl, if only he weren't so concerned about the Great Mother's gaze.

The flesh of the freshwater fish, as thick as an adult's forearm, was thinly sliced, the bones finely ground and dissolved in water infused with sour and mildly acidic herbs, and the innards, excluding the bitter parts, were crushed with herbs and grains that clung to the water plants, forming round cakes used as garnish.

Even a mere glance at the process, done while running errands, was enough to amaze him with its complexity—a dish made solely from twelve different herbs, opfrom (similar to lotus root but drier), and freshwater fish.

An elven cold-infused stew.

Honestly, he had expected it to be quite fishy. When he was given a spoonful to taste, he did so with the reluctance of someone playing a penalty game, but as the pale and refreshing broth touched his tongue, he was enlightened about how ignorant he had been in the world of gourmet food.

The spiciness of battle washed away by a refreshing lightness. The well-infused spices gently made their presence known at the tip of his tongue, and the freshwater fish sashimi, imbued with a perfect blend of flavors, delighted his palate with its unique umami, while the round garnish stimulated his appetite with the subtle bitterness of the innards, the sweetness of carbohydrates, and a chewy texture.

A taste that seemed to reward him for the hardships of the morning.

Watching everyone in the party enjoying their meal, the Great Mother smiled contentedly until the sound of scraping bowls prompted her to tap on the table, drawing everyone's attention.

"So, I've roughly heard about the outside world. Could it be that we are facing a situation as serious as when the dead of the past rose, or perhaps even more dire?"

Indeed. Though secluded in the forest, she seemed well-informed about the outside world.

Most of what comes here are rumors carried by spirits. Probably uncertainties like: many monsters appearing, many humans dying, the forest deteriorating.

"That's correct, venerable one. I'm not sure if the party has mentioned this, but we have come here to improve relations between our races, and a helping hand in a major crisis would shine all the brighter for its value…"

"Enough. I expected a concise answer from a mage. Speak now, hero, since I have declared my intention to assist you. What help would you have us provide?"

Ottman, who had finished his bowl first, responded, but as before, the Great Mother disliked long answers and dismissed him abruptly. Instead, the baton, quite against my will, passed to me.

What I really want here is clear.

"Why don't you come down with us once, after a long time?"

"Hm? What?"

At the Great Mother's query, I pointed at her with my spoon.

"It’s you, Great Mother. We don't need anything else, just for you to come would be enough?"

After tasting that power firsthand this morning, her level was certainly not ordinary.

‘Ethnic harmony isn't something that high-ranking people can decide just by agreeing to do so in the future and shaking hands. It needs to start from the grassroots, from the common people, and someone like the Great Mother would be the perfect hero for this.'

It fits the frame perfectly, doesn’t it? ‘A great hero who once saved the world and then secluded herself, now returning to rescue humans amidst inter-species discord during a new crisis.'

These types of recruitment quests vary in rewards based on affinity. Anyway, since she seemed quite pleased with how well she was received, it was worth a shot.

"Ah…"

Her hesitation seemed to indicate she was actually considering it. That this incredibly strong elf might join us as a companion—

"Um. Did this guy not get hit enough…?"

"Pardon?"

"It seems so. Stay after the meal. I need to address something lacking from this morning."

.

.

.

.

.

Ah.

As she casually gestured towards a battle hammer leaning against the wall, it seemed I might have overstepped a bit.

****