Let This Grieving Soul Retire! Woe is the Weakling Who Leads the Strongest Party 1

As she soared over the creature’s head, the claws extending from its gauntlet scraped her leg. Her normally deadpan face warped in pain as fresh blood dripped down from her thigh. Still, she completed her leap and landed perfectly on its back. In her right hand gleamed the crimson shortsword.

As the boss thrashed about, Tino quickly and quietly stabbed it in the neck. The beast writhed in pain. Its bloodshot eyes rolled back, and its hand groped about in a feeble attempt to grab her. In the end, however, the creature fell without reaching her. Tino landed softly on the ground, and the phantom giant dissipated.

“Did we beat it?” Gilbert muttered between breaths. The Purgatorial Sword fell from his hand with a loud clang. His voice sounded younger somehow; it was a stark contrast to his warlike bellows during combat.

Holding her wounded thigh, Tino declared, “Yes. We’ve won.”

She sat down on the spot and quickly examined the injury. A deep tear ran down her pale skin. It looked as though she’d been cut by a fine sword rather than claws. Fortunately, it hadn’t hit any arteries, so her life wasn’t at risk. However, it wasn’t something she could just leave alone. If she hadn’t finished the fight with that one blow, she would’ve been unable to flee.

Tino gritted her teeth through the sharp pain that accompanied the endless trickle of blood. “That was close,” she said with a sigh.

She grabbed a small bottle of pink liquid from the potion holster on her belt, which could fit up to five. This one was a magical medicine that healed wounds. Created by an Alchemist, it was more chemistry than magic and not nearly as potent as a Cleric’s spells, but it could quickly fix up external injuries. One could say it was an essential item in a party with no Cleric.

Tino removed the cap from the bottle, bared her upper thigh, and applied the potion to the wound. Pain flared through her leg, causing her to groan. The wound—which stretched from her groin to her kneecap—sealed in a flash. Though it still ached, that too would diminish with time.

Greg finally stood up, gazing at the broken sword still in his grasp. He was pale, as if his brain had only just caught up with the situation. “Phew. I thought I was dead meat. Why’d my weapon have to break at a time like this?”

“Better than breaking your spine, old man.”

“Ahaha! Fair enough.” He laughed, but his voice lacked its usual vigor. He looked over at Rhuda with a forced smile. “You saved my life.”

“Heh. I’m just glad I made it in time. Tino, are you okay?”

“This is nothing. I can walk, at least. I should be back to normal soon enough.”

The potions Tino carried were of superior quality. While they required some time to work, they could heal just about anything short of a fatal wound. After wiping up the blood, she slowly stood up.

Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief. He had never before encountered such a ferocious enemy. With his previous party, their chance of victory would’ve been low even if his sword had been fully charged. The fact that they had won without any casualties was practically a miracle. If they had lost any party members here, their chance of victory would be even lower. They had been skating on thin ice.

The Swordsman tried to calm his heart, as it was still beating wildly from his dance with death. In a shaky voice, he said, “So, uh... boss didn’t drop anything, huh?”

“That’s pretty unlucky,” Greg muttered, making a face. “They’re supposed to be more likely to drop stuff than normal phantoms.” He picked up the blade of his cherished sword and put it carefully into its sheath.

In its current state, the sword would be difficult to mend. At best, he could melt it down into raw materials. In terms of profit, they were well in the red already.

Rhuda forced a smile and offered some consolation. “Better than losing your life, right? C’mon, you can buy a new sword.”

“Eh, I guess.”

Tino turned to him. “Here, take this. It’s smaller than the one you used before, but it’s better than nothing.”

Greg accepted the crimson shortsword and swung it a couple of times, checking it out. “Thanks.”

They had defeated the boss, but their mission wasn’t complete. After that, they would have to make it home alive, too. Unlike monsters, phantoms materialized spontaneously. The party couldn’t be at ease even when they returned the way they came in.

Greg and Gilbert sat down, exhausted, and downed the water in their canteens.

After thinking back on their battle, Rhuda piped up, “If they had to deal with that thing, those poor hunters might not have made it.”

“Aah, yeah. Their leader was level five, too, wasn’t he? Think they all got done in by that monster?”

“Level five?” Tino frowned.

The boss had been much stronger than Tino had anticipated. Their victory had been narrow with three level 4 hunters in their midst, partially thanks to the surprisingly strong Gilbert-Greg powerhouse duo. Tino wasn’t so sure that she would’ve been able to defeat it if she had ventured in here alone. It wouldn’t have been strange if the level 5 hunter and his party had lost to it.

Levels were, in the end, simply labels bestowed by the Association. A level 5 hunter wasn’t necessarily stronger than a level 4. Things were different when you got to level 7 or 8, where you needed an enormous amount of exploits under your belt, but level 5 was attainable even if you weren’t all that strong.

Tino surveyed the boss chamber once more. The space was wide, with high ceilings and glowing stones lighting the walls. Some dim light reached the floor, but there were no visible pools of blood. She couldn’t see the telltale signs of fallen hunters, either. If hunters had indeed met with disaster here, then there should have been some evidence left behind.

The White Wolf’s Den wasn’t that large of a treasure vault, so it was hard to imagine the group getting lost and not being able to find their way out. In that case, the hunters’ main challenge would’ve undoubtedly been the strength of the phantoms. Even then, it would’ve made sense for them to leave some kind of trace in case of a rescue party. Tino found it strange that she had seen neither hide nor hair of them.

This was a trial, one that Master had deemed fitting for Tino. In that case, it ought to be something comprehensible to even an inexperienced hunter like her.

“Master, I don’t understand!” Tino complained, her voice tinged with loneliness.

Just then, she heard something nearby. When she glanced around at her resting party members, they looked back at her quizzically.

“What’s wrong, boss?” Greg asked her.

“Stand up. Something’s coming.”

“More phantoms?!”

The three of them willed strength into their weary muscles and forced themselves back on their feet.

Immediately after, Tino squatted down to evade something whizzing through the air. It was a single red arrow. The arrowhead stabbed into the wall with a dull thud. She stared at it, her face pale.

Gilbert blinked. “What?”

In the middle path leading out of the boss chamber—the one Tino’s party had entered through—stood a silver wolf knight wearing black plate armor. The very same one they had just barely managed to conquer. Except there wasn’t just one.

Four pairs of eyes, as red as blood, lined up at the entrance and glared at Tino’s party.

Was the boss merely waiting for its allies?! The possibility occurred to Tino far too late. Thinking back, the boss had been almost too cautious, as though it’d been buying time.

The beasts’ footsteps shook the earth.

Greg’s bottom lip quivered, like he was enduring an awful nightmare. “No freakin’ way...”

Although these wolf knights looked the same as the boss, each one carried its own unique weapon: a two-handed greatsword, an enormous club that almost reached the ceiling, a bow so huge it clearly wasn’t meant to be used indoors, and finally an obsidian gun—likely a rapid-fire type—with an ammo belt so long that it dragged across the ground.

They entered the room with perfect composure, perhaps aiming to intimidate their targets. Yet the hatred for humanity in their eyes was as powerful as that of the knight that this party had toppled moments ago.

Terrified, Rhuda asked, “Huh? What’s going on? We just defeated that thing...”

“Was that not the boss?”

They knew that bosses didn’t necessarily operate alone, but this was still completely unexpected.

“Master, I can’t possibly take any more of this.”

Tino was baffled. Her trial may have gone unusually smoothly, but throwing this at her was just unbearable. She absentmindedly traced a finger over her right thigh. Some pain still remained; she wouldn’t be able to move as nimbly as before. If the wound opened up during the fight, she really would have no chance of victory.

The wolf knights moved into formation in front of Tino’s party, absolutely dwarfing them. The wielders of the broadsword and club stood on the front line, while the gunman and bowman were behind them. They looked more like the imperial army’s well-trained battalions than the other, more disorganized wolf knights they had fought until now.

Greg hurried to ready his crimson shortsword, but he doubted it would be very useful against the four giant beasts. “What do we do?” he asked anxiously.

Gilbert lifted his Purgatorial Sword. His expression had long since been drained of its ferocity. “Tch... What can we do?”

The party looked to Tino. She masked her fear as she spoke. Making decisions in tough situations like this was part of the leader’s job. If the leader bent, the party broke. Tino had nobody she could rely on now.

“Our only option is to fight.”

Her leg wound wasn’t deep, but it would be impossible for her to escape. Their enemies had long-range weapons. If any of the party turned their backs, they’d be shot; even Tino wasn’t faster than a bullet. Swiftly defeating those two, who were just as heavily armored as the one with the battle-axe, would be impossible without some sort of miracle. But she couldn’t give up—not on living or fighting. The party’s lives were in Tino’s hands.

She braced herself, yanking her spirits back from the brink of despair. Assailed by the tension of their grave predicament, Tino’s heart pounded hard and fast. It would be impossible to defeat the enemy, so she searched for a path to survival. All that supported Tino now was faith toward her master. He wouldn’t give her an impossible request. Her faith in Krai, akin to worship, was the only thing that kept her sane.

While keeping her attention on the four enemies ahead, she looked at the path to the right. The silver wolf knights were much larger than regular wolf knights. In a narrow pathway with low ceilings, their movements would be greatly limited.

She stilled her breathing and began barking out orders, quelling some of the fear in her allies. “The boss chamber is too wide to fight them in! Run to the path on the right, and we can force them into a bottleneck. The sword and club are too big to be used in there. I’ll take the rear.”

Thus, their desperate struggle began.

A collective roar shook the room like thunder. One was enough to make the cave quake, but when all four howled at once, it had actual physical force. The hunters leaned forward, bracing themselves against the impact that ran through their whole bodies.

The creatures’ movements were both calm and assured. They seemed to understand that their comrade had fallen. The four of them solidified their formation, as if to show that they wouldn’t let a single party member get out alive.

Moving to block the right path was the club-wielding knight. Gilbert was the first to approach. It was clear as day that they couldn’t win. If their escape routes were blocked, then death was inevitable.

He brushed off his desperation as he yelled and swung the Purgatorial Sword. Despite his exhaustion, his swing was not lacking at all; in fact, it was even stronger than before. The large, red blade moved like flickering flames. Gilbert had somehow channeled a little mana into it, setting it faintly alight.

Faced with this flaming blade, the beast swung its giant club. There wasn’t the slightest bit of competition between them; its pure destructive force repelled Gilbert’s quick strike with ease, sending Gilbert flying. As he landed, his body rolled across the ground. Rhuda opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Fortunately, he was still conscious. He scrambled back to his feet, his face contorted in despair. “It’s over. I can’t push that thing back.”

The wolf knight was far too massive. He could neither repel nor block its attacks. Things might have been different if the Purgatorial Sword were fully charged, but as things were, he couldn’t destroy the phantom’s weapon.

As the wolf knight hoisted up its club once more, Greg readied his shortsword and leapt in to attack. The creature brought its weapon back down on the puny human at its feet. An overpowering gust assailed Greg, and he sprang back just before the thorny pillar crashed down on that very spot.

The axe from before had been powerful, but clubs were of a different nature. Even without putting much strength behind it, a single blow was enough to easily bypass leather armor and inflict massive damage on a hunter’s taut muscles. In fact, things would probably have been the same if he were wearing metal armor.

Rhuda pulled out her dagger and tossed it. Now wasn’t the time to just wait and watch. The greatsword-wielding wolf howled and stepped forward. Tino, ready to fight or die, jumped in front of it.

When its blade swung down, she sidestepped to evade. When it swung in an upward arc, she hopped back. The greatsword was faster than the battle-axe, but not so fast that it couldn’t be dodged. And yet, if she got hit once, she would be in for a world of pain. At the very least, any hopes they had of victory would disappear.

They locked eyes. A cold sweat ran down Tino’s brow. Considering she had given her shortsword to Greg, the only offensive weapon she had was her dagger. Still, she wasn’t altogether certain that even a full-power stab would pierce the beasts’ pelts.

Desperately, she racked her brain. Her master had given her this trial. There had to be some way to seize victory. Could she trick the bowman and gunman into accidentally firing at their allies? No; neither of the back-liners showed signs of attacking. Either they knew what she was thinking, or they assumed the two front-liners would be enough to kill the party. But she didn’t have to defeat them; she just had to get out of the chamber.

Tino evaded another wild swing. Her thigh throbbed with pain. The knight who was blocking the path to the right had a wide range. Its metallic club was heavy enough that even the most powerful of phantoms couldn’t handle it with ease.

Perhaps Tino and Rhuda, who both had light builds, could squeeze through. The thought crossed Tino’s mind for a moment, but she quickly rejected it. They didn’t have that much room to act. If the swordsman following Tino was free, then it could kill Greg or Gilbert. They wouldn’t have time to kill the club-wielder from behind, as their offensive capabilities were too low.

Greg and Gilbert were still being restrained by the club-wielding knight. Gilbert tried to attack it over and over, but the beast calmly blocked his blows, not bothering to counterattack. But why? Was it just trying to keep anyone from slipping past it? Or was it waiting for Tino’s stamina to deplete? The knights had such a ridiculous advantage, it was downright chilling.

Tino’s body felt like it was on fire. She continued to dodge attacks, putting in only the minimum effort necessary, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up for long. Time was on the enemy’s side. What to do, what to do?

“Tino, run! We’ll stop them!” Gilbert cried, readying the Purgatorial Sword as he faced the giants. His voice was full of resolve.

With a bitter expression, Greg said, “Tch, so that’s all we can do. Damn, I’ve got some crappy luck.”

At times, extreme decisions were thrust upon hunters. Occasionally, one had to abandon their party and live on.

“Tino and Rhuda—you’ve gotta live, no matter what it takes. Go tell the Association about this.”

Rhuda tried to say, “But—”

Still facing the enemy, Greg cut her off. “Look, we’re goners either way. It’s better if you two live than none of us. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about; happens all the time. It’s just our turn now. Like I said, seriously crappy luck.”

If I’d known this was gonna happen, I would’ve trained more, he thought to himself. He bore no ill will toward Tino.

Though they likely had no idea what was being discussed, the wolf knights’ attacks intensified. The bow and gun were both trained on the party now. If taken head-on, a single attack could end any one of their lives.

Was that really the only way Tino could get through this? Had her master neglected to account for these wolves? Thoughts, worries, and regrets swirled in her mind, making all other sounds distant.

Grieving Souls, the party Tino admired most, hadn’t lost a member since the day of its inception. Would its leader really force Tino to make such a harsh decision? No. She knew that hunters were often required to make such choices, but at the least, now wasn’t one of those times.

Sound returned to the world, and the enemy’s swing slammed against the ground. Angry red eyes bore into her.

“All yours, though I feel bad that it’s so crappy.”

Suddenly, Tino heard her beloved master’s voice deep within her mind. It was from when she had proudly shown him the ring that she’d stolen from Gilbert at the member recruitment meet.

This spontaneous memory sparked a revelation. She immediately understood as she looked down at her hand. The eyes. Even these wolves, covered in their thick pelts and armor, had eyes.

Attacking the eyes was a basic technique for defeating powerful monsters and phantoms. The attack itself might not fell the beast, but blinding it would make it much weaker and create openings for more potent attacks.

The reason they hadn’t attempted it so far was because they couldn’t land a hit on the enemies’ eyes. These knights were more than twice Tino’s height, and she had no way of attacking from afar. Or so she thought.

As it turned out, she did have a way.

On the ring finger of her left hand shone a single ring. It was the Shooting Ring Krai had given her a few days ago. It was one of the most generic Relics out there: a ring with the power to shoot projectiles of magic.

Though she didn’t use Relics herself, they came up often in conversations with her master, so she had some knowledge of them. The Shooting Ring wasn’t exactly popular, though, due to the weakness of its shots. It certainly didn’t have the power to kill these phantoms. Tino reflexively jumped back to dodge a sweeping strike, moving the Shooting Ring to her right index finger. It seemed to be fully charged.

Activating Relics was difficult. To use them well took loads of grueling practice. Even the Shooting Ring wasn’t so simple to use that a newbie could do it right away. But Tino had undertaken some training on an outing per her master’s recommendation while she was acting as his bodyguard. It was like this situation had been tailor-made for her. She would have to pray to him after all this was over.

“Hey, Tino!” Greg shouted.

“We aim for the eyes,” Tino said curtly.

Unlike bows and guns, the Shooting Ring didn’t require much movement. Of course, it wouldn’t be as easily managed as a dagger throw. Even if it didn’t take them down, all she had to do was hit their eyes. Then, they might just be able to get out alive. Of course, the enemies wouldn’t lie down and take her attacks. Moreover, her target wasn’t the sword-wielder; it was the one with the club. Her party’s aid would be essential.

“I’ll blind them. Back me up.”

There was no response, but her command clearly got through to her allies, as Gilbert and Greg dashed to the left and right respectively. Caught off-guard by their sudden shift, the club-wielding wolf was wary. This time, their strategy really was treading on thin ice. If they made one slip-up, they might not get another chance.

Tino turned her attention to the club-wielder outside of her field of vision. With the catlike reflexes she’d cultivated during her hellish training, she evaded the successive fire aimed at her. She regulated her breathing and focused. She could not miss.

Gilbert lifted his blade and swung it with a loud roar. As the wolf brought its club down to meet his attack, Greg went in as well. Rhuda exhaled and threw her dagger. It whizzed through the air, spinning. Like Tino, she was aiming for the eyeballs.

The wolf didn’t bother to deflect the meager thing flying its way, and instead closed its eyes. Rhuda’s dagger bounced off the wolf’s thick eyelids and fell to the ground. She gulped as the wolf seemed to sneer at her.

Just as the wolf’s lids lifted once more, a blue light—the magic bullet shot by Tino—hit it square in the eye. Even this wolf couldn’t react to the delayed, inaudible bullet. The creature groaned and dropped its heavy club, which shook the earth when it fell.

The entire party started to run. Tino deftly dodged the one wolf’s greatsword and ran alongside Rhuda and Greg. But then, Tino noticed a mistake made by her party member.

“Gilbert, no!”

Was it instinctual? Did he believe this was his chance to shine? Or had Tino’s brusque direction not been clear enough? Whatever the case, Gilbert didn’t flee with them. Instead, he forcefully swung his sword at the wolf knight as it rubbed its eye in pain.

The color drained from his face, but he couldn’t stop mid-swing. His blade moved to cut the knight down slantwise, but it was deflected by the beast’s thick forearm. Then, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the chamber as a chunk was carved out of the armor. His sword didn’t reach flesh.

Rage overpowered the shock the beast had suffered. As Greg tried to slip past it, he was struck and blown away by its frantic arm movements. Now there was no opening for them to escape.

The knight stood once more and glared at Tino, the one who had devised this underhanded strategy, with its fiery eyes. Her bullets were apparently even weaker than she thought, as the eye pierced by the bullet looked to be unaffected now.

It was over. The same tactic wouldn’t work again.

Awash with misery, Tino moved with unsteady steps. On sheer reflex, she was able to jump to the side to avoid a downward slash that would’ve cut her in two. Her stamina was at its limit. She could recover if she rested a little, but the wolf knights here were unlikely to give her the time she needed.

“Tch. My bad,” Gilbert muttered.

She couldn’t blame him. Things would’ve gotten much easier if he could’ve killed the beast with that swing. Her orders had been incomplete as well. The result was far from ideal, but hindsight was 20/20.

Gilbert swung furiously at the wolf as it moved to retrieve its club, trying to make up for his mistake. It was as if he was trying to tell them, Use this opportunity to escape.

Greg stood up and lunged forward to attack with his shortsword. His target howled, its enraged voice conveying its desire to seal their fates.

Evidently, the wolves knew what Tino’s party was aiming for, as the bow and gun were now trained on the path where they had been hoping to escape. Even if they made it, it was unlikely that they would last long.

There was nothing Tino could do. She had no plan, and all of her mental and physical energy had been expended. What was the likelihood of escaping intact? And what was the likelihood of defeating all four of these phantoms? There wasn’t much point in thinking about it; both were hopelessly low. Which one should she choose?

Just then, she and Rhuda locked eyes. Rhuda, once bright and cheery, was now so haggard that she looked ready to collapse. The entire party, including her, was covered in wounds. They were up against the most powerful foes they had ever faced in their lives, and escape was futile.

What was she to do now? Tino was confronted with her mentor’s most basic lesson, which had been so thoroughly drilled into her that she didn’t even have to try to recall it. Her heart drummed in her chest.

Tino’s mentor, her dear sister, would only say one thing: “Kill ’em like hell.”

“No, dear sister,” she protested weakly. “I can’t do it.”

Just as she was about to give up, something came hurtling into the room at an unbelievable speed and mowed down two wolf knights.