Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part One]

CHAPTER 70: The Mhaledictus

The old man let out a weak moan as the vice grip around his neck tightened. His legs dangled over the gaping hole of a pit from which an eerie hiss emerged. Inside, a large hairy creature akin to a mole titled its bizarre nose upward, its snout splitting open to reveal razor sharp teeth coated with thick saliva.

The overseer heaved an amused grin as the creature stirred within its den in anticipation. Without a shred of hesitation or remorse, he unfurled his fingers, sentencing the frail old man to a grim fate. But that fleeting moment of control would have been his last.

CHENG!

The cold embrace of unyielding metal coiled around the tyrant's head. His eyes bulged in shock as the chains painfully tightened around his face, tilting his head back.

In the same beat, Rexar leaped across the pit and grabbed the old man, severing the proverbial binds that condemned him to a dark fate.

"I got him!" he shouted tellingly.

With a simple mental command, the chains began retracting into the glowing vortex from which they came, dragging the prisoner along the rough ground toward the caster.

Once he was within range, Daisuke dropped his heel into the bastard's stomach, ripping a pained scream from his lungs. "The chamber's clear," Daisuke announced confidently. "Milo, Elena, see to the captives."

"Milo? Elena?"

"Wait. What?"

"It can't be! What're they doing here?"

"How did they manage to find this place?"

The names rose from the lips of the Beastfolk in hushed whispers. It was obvious they were acquainted with the young heroes who had come to their rescue—and noting the overseer's incapacitated state restored a modicum of composure within them.

Rexar approached the group and carefully laid down the elder on his side, his back bloodied from the long gash he had suffered from the whip. The wailing grandson hurried onto the scene, throwing himself onto his motionless grandfather while blaming himself.

Without wasting another precious moment, Milo sank to his knees to inspect the wheezing elder. "H-His wounds are pretty deep... and he's lost a substantial amount of blood. The fact that he's dehydrated and malnourished doesn't help at all."

"Can you heal him?" asked Elena anxiously.

Milo didn't respond; time was of the essence. The incantation for the Area Heal spell flowed from his lips with urgency and purpose. The boy's eyes widened in alarm when his grandfather began to glow, then he looked down at his own body in surprise to find that the light had engulfed him as well.

Gasps of shock and wonder rippled from the Beastfolk as they were surrounded by the same ethereal curtain of light. Men, women, and children gazed down at their bodies as a cool sensation hummed within them, gradually healing their wounds and slightly soothing their fatigue.

Whindel, the middle-aged man, gawked at the palm of his hands in astonishment as the calluses began to reduce in size. Even his ear that had been severed as punishment for his constant rebellion had been completely healed.

With a wan smile, he raised his head. After taking a good long look at his saviors—their confident disposition, weapons, and accessories, he could not only easily understand how they had managed to make it back to the village safely, but how they had found and made their way into the mountain.

"You three have grown so much you're almost unrecognizable," he said with evident praise.

With a wide grin, Rexar rested his hands on his hips and tilted his chin to the ceiling, his nose elongating as if he were Pinocchio's distant relative.