A Transmigrator's Privilege

<Shut up!>

Kung-goong!

The ground where the host was standing a while ago sunk. The host rushed at me with an explosive speed.

However.

Kwagwag!

<……!>

The place where the demonic sword fell was an empty spot.

Shh!

I leaped into the air and caught the host from behind. At the same time as I turned half a lap back and took the steps, Serpens drew a wide arc.

Push!

Blood gushed out with an eerie feeling of flesh being cut.

<Aaaaah!>

The host groaned in pain. However, the red marble embedded in the hilt of the demon sword flashed and the wounds on his back were healed in an instant.

<What, does the demonic sword also heal?>

I recited the contents of the original to Agnes, who was surprised.

“It’s about using the blood of murdered sacrifices to heal.”

Of course, that was an option exclusively for the Demon Sword. There’s no such thing with the Holy Sword.

Around that time, the host who had finished regenerating went mad and rushed at me.

<You dare!>

Chaeeng! Kagang! Kaaan!

I focused and searched for gaps while averting or blocking the host’s attacks.

During the long neck-to-neck battle, the necklace rang.

<There are hundreds of corpses in sight. If it’s like this, there will be no end to healing right?>

“If it’s a simple injury.”

<Then either blow the head or the right arm off, one of the two seems to put an end to this.>

“Let’s try the right arm.”

It’s not because I’m afraid of murder.

<Yes, he’s a slaughterer that caused people to die because of his excessive greed. We can’t let him go comfortably.>

“Right. If we hand it over to the Inquisition office, they will show him hell.”

<But, Ellet.>

Agnes’s voice was further lowered.

<It’s strong. You can get hurt while trying to finish without killing.>

“Don’t worry.”

As we were finishing the conversation.

<What are you muttering to yourself!>

Demonic energy exploded from the host.

Blood vessels swelled from the eyelids around his red eyes, and twitched with the pressure. Black hair fluttered high and soared.

White and black auras formed thickly on each other’s swords. The host’s sword cut vertically and my sword cut horizontally.

The Aura’s collided

Kwagwagwagwang!

I stepped out of the crater and dug head-on as if taking another leap. It was in the middle of the dust that had arisen in the aftermath of the explosion, but I did not hesitate.

Pakijiji.

The moment the swords touched again, the aura burned impurities in the air around them and cleanly opened the view.

The host became even more powerful after exchanging his life a while ago.

The speed was equal, but as he overtook me in strength and aura, the battlefield prevailed over him.

<I’ll end you!>

The magic sword pierced, aiming at my heart at a terrifying speed.

I opened my eyes and twisted to the right.

It was by a narrow margin.

Shush!

‘Ugh.’

I felt pain in my left shoulder. It looked like a deep cut, but it was tolerable. More than that, it was a moment to focus on.

I had reached a distance that can be said to be right in front of the host’s nose. It was even immediately after an attack and his vital points were defenselessly open.

I hit Serpens in a diagonal uppercut.

<Hck!>

A shuffling sound was heard.

The host managed to get farther than Serpens’ range. Immediately there was a roar of laughter.

<Haha! Where the hell are you aiming your sword…!>

But there’s something he doesn’t know.

That my sword is a whip sword.

Whiririk, shunk!

<…That…what…ah…?>

Pshuushot!

A fountain of blood erupted from the host’s shoulder.

<K-Kuaghhhh!>

Degururu.

The right arm holding the demonic sword rolled far on the floor. The whip sword chased and shattered it to pieces like a predatory snake.

That was then.

The demonic sword soaked in blood and flesh moved spontaneously and flew to the host.

Although the host clenched his teeth in pain, he held the magic sword with his remaining left hand.

<Oh, we overlooked the characteristics of a Binding Sword. You have to cut off both arms.>

“I can do it from now on.”

But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

The blade of Serpens, which stretched out like a whip, aimed at the host’s left shoulder, but the host struck it off with the demon sword, turned around, and ran away.

<Eat this!>

He didn’t forget to bind my feet in a mean and effective way.

The aura attack was not aimed at me, but at Thesilid.

<Ellet!>

“Right.”

Quarreung!

I intercepted it with my aura and a flash of light exploded in mid-air, offsetting each other. In the meantime, the host, who had fled, disappeared over the ridge of the hill.

<Don’t chase him.>

“I didn’t mean to.”

Even if he runs, it’s inside a closed dungeon anyway. Besides, it’s impossible to completely regenerate his right arm unless he slaughters thousands of people. There were no more humans to be sacrificed to the demon sword here, so there was no need to rush.

Instead, there was something urgent.

I turned around in a hurry and ran to Thesilid.

“Terry!”

He was holding on without losing his mind. His weight was pressing down on the sword embedded in the ground, and that posture was barely supporting his upper body.

Thesilid struggled to raise his head and look at me. His sea-blue eyes were out of focus.

“Ellet…”

“Don’t talk. Stay still.”

It seems that the only intact part was his head. As if baptizing, I placed my hands on his silver hair and cast healing.

[<System> Passive skill ‘Healing for the Beloved’ increases the ‘Healing’ effect by 400%.]

Come to think of it, there was this.

A skill for a healer learned by smashing Rodrigo Orsche.

It was a fraudulent passive in which the effect of healing skills increased five times only for Thesilid.

Healing at level 67 was amplified. Thesilid’s body healed in an instant after taking a healing shower.

This put out the urgent fire, but he was still a patient.

Excessive bleeding, exhaustion, and thirst were physiological problems.

I took a potion bottle from the satchel bag and put it in Thesilid’s mouth. I slowly looked around, waiting until he emptied the bottle.

“We need a place to lie down.”

The whole area was a mountain of corpses vibrating with the smell of blood.

It would be better to move Thesilid somewhere else by supporting him, holding him up, or giving him a princess hug.

But before that, there was something to be done.

“Wait a minute.”

I remember hurting my shoulder earlier. I can’t get the wound to burst while applying strength, so I need treatment…

“Huh?”

There was no wound on my left shoulder.

What?

Was my wound healed while using the healing skill? I don’t think that’s the case?

To enhance the effect, I even made contact and intensively poured it directly on Thesilid.

Then I suddenly realized that even before I started using the healing skill, I didn’t feel much pain compared to the injury I got.

That means.

“Don’t tell me…”

Thesilid’s left shoulder soaked in blood caught my eye. Even though the uniform was not torn, it was as if a wound had spontaneously formed from within.

It became clear.

Rodrigo dropped two skill books. Another skill formed a set with the Healing of the Beloved.

It was a skill for tanks that takes the wounds in the Healers instead, ‘Guardian of the Beloved’.

As if confirming the answer, Thesilid laughed weakly.

“All I can do is…it’s this much…”

“Oh, come on, you…”

This sweet potato!

You were on the verge of dying from excessive bleeding and you do that?

The moment I was about to challenge his sanity, Thesilid escaped the situation with a cheap shot.

“Terry…!”

His body leaned. As his tension relaxed, the balance of his body, which he had managed to maintain by relying on his sword, was broken.

I quickly supported his torso as he fell. It was heavy because it was the body of a grown man big enough to cover me.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.….”

He closed his eyes with a tired but relaxed expression on his face. A defenseless state that comes from the conviction that he’s safe.

“……”

With anger fading away like a lie, I leaned him on my shoulder.

Right, is that really important?

“…Good job.”

It’s good enough to have endured so far.

So for now, I wanted to give a rest and comfort him thoroughly.

✠

It was impossible to rest in the middle of a field of corpses. I opened the map and searched for a suitable place nearby.

Just over one hill, there was a group of trees along a stream. I moved Thesilid, who had lost his mind there, and laid him on a blanket.

I sat next to him and poured potions into his mouth from time to time to help him recover his energy.

Thesilid’s body and mind, which had been abused to the limit, seemed to have been switched off, and he didn’t even show any signs of waking up.

The embodied Agnes looked down at Thesilid and clicked her tongue.

<He managed to withstand an S-class boss.>

“It looks like he’s been fighting for at least half a day.”

<If it wasn’t for you, he would have died. He looks like an advanced Aura Expert, but at this level, an A-class boss is the limit to fighting alone without a healer.>

As expected of The Vatican’s 1st Hell Instructor. The evaluation was correct.

In the first round of his life, Thesilid was weak as the protagonist of the slow-growing overpowered character setting. He was just at the right level that he could solo A-class dungeons.

But without my intervention, Thesilid would somehow have survived.

Now it’s before starting the original. If the main character dies, the story does not proceed.

At the same time, I remembered the setting of the original work.