108: Can't fight if you're scared, right?

I'm hiding behind a tree root, waiting. A little time passes.

Just as I'm starting to hope maybe the hydra’s gone the wrong way, a sound rips through the trees from beyond the horizon—crashing, felling them like kindling.

Suddenly, thick fog rolls in. My vision goes to hell. Can't see the hydra, but I feel it—the sound, the tremor in the ground. It’s coming. I know it.

The swamp trees vanish into the mist in seconds.

Weirdly, the air around the sacred wine stays clear.

(Maybe this fog’s from that eight-headed hydra? Maybe the wine’s magic is pushing it back?)

Just around the sacred wine, the mist parts.

Then—out of nowhere—a massive serpent’s head thrusts upward.

(…huge! I thought that when it first showed up, but now that I’m actually looking at it, damn, it’s even bigger than I thought!)

The roar of the hydra flattening trees had vanished, somehow.

Instead, the hydra slowly approached the barrel filled with sacred wine—its massive body somehow managing not to knock down a single tree as it rose up, slick and slow… like a serpent sliding out of the mist.

Eight necks, split into two groups of four, peered curiously into the two barrels.

Eight tongues writhed just shy of the barrel’s rim.

(So different from the image I saw through Raidock’s eyes—soldiers guzzling cheap wine and spilling it everywhere.)

Looks like the damn hydra actually knows good liquor. Drool’s dripping from its mouth like it can’t help itself.

It stares at the barrel with a weird, greedy look, pressing close, like it’s starving.

You can practically taste it in the air—this guy’s got a serious thirst.

(That’s one hell of a drinker!)

After a moment, two of the eight heads slowly leaned in toward the barrel’s contents. The other six stiffened, eyes scanning the area like they were dead set on keeping everyone else out.

(That’s one hell of a drinker!)

Still, with eight heads, how does it decide which one gets to drink?

I was kind of hoping for a little chaos—just a bit of drama.

Too bad. To a hydra, it seems like it doesn’t matter who drinks. They’ve got this thing down to a science.

Then, finally, the hydra’s long tongue flicked out—graceful, precise, sipping the sacred wine.

The whole massive body froze.

Even the six heads keeping watch went still.

A moment of silence. A strange pause. Then—suddenly—the hydra roared.

Moyagaaahhhaaaahhhhaaaahhhhh!!

(What kind of noise is that!?)

The sound was so utterly slack it nearly made me blurt out a comment.

And all eight heads—just standing there, all slack-jawed, deflated, like they’d lost every bit of fight in them.

Ah, yeah. Tastes good, huh…?

It’s like the divine wine’s draining away, and the hatred for the hydra just floods up from deep inside.

(That thing… is the enemy! Can’t forgive it! Raidock, where the hell are you?!)

I really wanna see Raidock carve that dirty, lazy eight-headed hydra to bits—but this slow, stoned-out hydra’s already come this far. Raidock’s not even close.

(But if it just keeps getting drunk, I can just wait it out…)

I was just starting to relax—then I screamed inside my head.

What the hell did I just do?! Threw up my own flag?!

Gyaaaouaahaaauuooouu!!

Predictably! The damn hydra caught on!

I spat in annoyance and burst out of my hiding spot.

Looks like I ruined your fun time. Real mad, huh? Can practically smell the rage.

"...Huh! Fine! Back in my adventurer days, I was fighting way stronger foes than this all the time! What, scared of a damn snake now?!"

Lie. I’m terrified inside.

It’s huge. Black. Eight heads! What’s even the point?!

One second and I’m getting raped... no, crushed!

But my mouth says the exact opposite.

"Magic power’s almost empty! Can’t cast a damn spell! Total trash as a mage... but..."

I deliberately lifted my face and grinned, smug and defiant.

"Watch this. This is how a alchemist fights!"

After a while, the hydra stopped moving—maybe it noticed me making noise. But when it finally understood I meant business, one of its heads snapped straight toward me.

Could probably fit a whole house in that head! But how much brain matter is there, really!?

I dove behind the big tree, just as I’d planned.

Come on! Hit your head hard already!

The hydra’s head, gathering speed, slammed straight into the massive tree!

……。

I thought I’d do it.

But despite its size, it didn’t slow down at all—it slid smoothly along the trunk of a great tree, like oil slipping over wet bark.

"Wha—gah!!"

A jolt runs through my whole body.

My vision spun. The world was turning.

I realized I’d been headbutted by a hydra’s neck when I hit the ground and coughed up blood.

Every bone in my body felt broken.

Likely the broken bone is piercing through the organs.

Seriously, the left leg was gone—rolling nearby.

Damn, that hurts!!

When people feel intense pain, their whole body tenses up—muscles lock tight, stiff as stone.

You ever stub your big toe on a dresser corner and suddenly your whole body locks up, can't move a muscle?

What I’m feeling right now is tens of times worse—sharp pain and stiffness.

To top it off, blood’s rising from my stomach, and I can’t breathe at all.

Would’ve died, plain and simple.

One step from death.

Guess it was the results of all that daily training keeping me alive.

(……Move! Move!)

The hydra bastard knows I can’t move. It’s turning its head slowly toward me. Just can’t tear itself away from the barrel of sacred wine. Movements are sluggish.

That’s the problem—complacency!

I touch the potion bottle with sheer will.

Luckily, anything related to alchemy drains magic power barely at all.

I poured magic into it, aiming for it to shatter and vanish at zero distance.

The Healing Potion bottle tucked in my potion belt cracked open, spilling its contents over my body.

And with a hiss like steam rising and smoke curling up, the pain in my body vanished all at once.

"...Legendary-grade Healing Potion—"

One was never enough to fully heal me. But I’m recovered enough to move now.

So I grab another one—this time, I swallow it!

"Damn it, I'm not spraying this!"

Healing Potions work when splashed, sure. But drinking them is the most effective!

My organs and skeleton reform instantly—back to normal!

Except for my severed leg, of course!

Unfortunately, Healing Potions can’t repair missing parts.

That takes something far more advanced.

Of course, even if it's legendary-grade, my Healing Potion's still got the same limits.

But... there's one wild feature to the legendary-grade Healing Potions I make.

Turns out, if a body part's missing, but still has a rough shape left, and you act right after the loss, you can actually reattach it!

I grabbed my severed left leg with both hands, pressed the wound shut.

"…gah!"

Sharp pain shot through me again. Ignored it!

Poured the third Healing Potion straight onto the wound. White smoke rose. Perfect—my leg was back.

Just to be safe, I downed a Stamina Potion like it was water.

"Hey!"

Wiped my mouth, stood up. The hydra stared at me, stunned.

The direction I’d been flung—beyond that, Maina was hiding.

No way I’m letting it go any further!

The hydra’s been drinking most of the sacred wine, but it’s too busy licking the little bit left at the bottom to notice.

So its head—huge as a house—is practically resting on the ground, centered around the barrel.

I pull the spool from my pocket.

The magic-conducting thread I made—never had a use until now.

It only carries a tiny amount of magic.

Back when I tested it, trying to channel real magic through it? It shattered in an instant, overloaded. So I’d packed it away.

But now? Just enough to pass a spark is all I need.

The thread runs from the spool to the bottoms of two barrels.

What’s buried beneath them? Of course! The magic bomb I used when digging for Leifan and mithril ore—no other choice!

The thread carried it—just enough explosive magic to trigger the detonation.

Only because the magic bomb was crafted through alchemy could I achieve this method, using barely a fraction of the necessary magic.

The detonation signal reached every single magic bomb buried deep underground.

BANG!!

Like a volcano erupting from the center of the barrels, a deafening roar split the air, and a massive wave of dirt shot skyward.

I’d dug the hole so the explosion’s force would blast straight up—no side escape.

I silently thanked Leifan, the one who’d devised this perforated detonation mechanism.

Gyogwagowaaaahhhhh!!

Point-blank.

The real challenge had been getting the hydra close enough to all those magic bombs.

The hydra bet everything on drinking the sacred wine!

"Guess I win!"

The explosion was brutal.

In an instant, the area was swallowed by dust and sand.

“Cough—!”

I squinted, glaring toward where the hydra had been.

The dust cloud cleared quickly.

And then.

“Hmm… figured as much.”

I gave it my most vicious grin.

Staring down the six-headed bastard I’d just turned into a pile of ash.