Plundering Worlds: I Have a Shotgun in a Fantasy World-Chapter 47: Square

Kael stopped at the edge of the forest. His hand went to his sword.

The village was silent.

Darkness. Stillness.

He stepped forward slowly, eyes scanning the darkness.

The square came into view.

Bodies.

Seven of them. The villagers who had stayed. Torn apart. Limbs scattered. Blood pooled across the dirt, black in the moonlight.

In the center, something crouched.

Huge.

Taller than any ordinary man, even hunched. Its body was draped in long, matted hair—dark and heavy, hanging in thick ropes down its back and shoulders. The strands veiled most of its form, but not completely. Through the gaps, pale flesh showed. Movement.

It held something in its hands. A torso. One of the villagers.

It lifted the body. The hair parted as its head tilted back, revealing the warped outline of its face beneath.

A face emerged, but nothing aligned correctly. The mouth sat too high, nearly level with the nose. The nose itself was flattened, split at the bridge as if something had pressed it inward. One eye was larger than the other—both pale, unfocused, the pupils thin and vertical like a goat’s.

The skin was stretched tight across the skull, slick and gray, as though it had been soaked and dried too many times. The jaw unhinged when it moved, sideways, unhinged, sliding out of place before locking again.

When it blinked, the lids closed in sequence. One eye shut first. The other remained open, watching.

Its teeth were human—but there were too many of them, packed tight, layered in rows.

Rrrrip.

The sound was wet.

Crack.

Bone split.

Krch. Krch.

It chewed slowly. Methodically.

Then it paused.

Its head tilted slightly. It was looking at something.

Kael followed its gaze.

The woman.

She sat a few paces away, still rocking the bundle. Still humming.

The creature stared at her. It lowered the torso, holding it in one hand. Its head tilted the other way, like a dog trying to understand something.

The woman kept her eyes on the bundle. She rocked. She hummed.

The creature leaned forward slightly. The curtain of hair shifted aside.

It made a sound.

Low. Rumbling. Almost curious.

The woman kept rocking.

The creature straightened. It took a step toward her.

Kael drew his sword. The steel cleared the scabbard in a single, practiced motion.

His grip settled—firm, controlled. The blade angled low, point tracking the creature’s center mass.

He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet. Reversal Steps. Ready to pivot.

The creature’s head snapped toward him. It rose to its full height—nearly nine feet tall. A tower of warped flesh and matted hair. Its shadow swallowed Kael. The shoulders were narrow, but the arms hung long, knuckles brushing the dirt. Fingers twitched—jointed wrong, bending too far back.

Where its face had been moments ago, the features had already shifted. The larger eye drifted to the center. The mouth slid lower. As if its face couldn’t decide on a shape.

For a moment, the thought of retreat crossed his mind.

*Run?*

It dropped the torso.

The body hit the ground with a wet thud.

The creature’s jaw shifted sideways with a soft click. The larger eye focused on him first. The smaller followed a beat later.

Its lips peeled back, not quite a smile.

"Warm," it rasped. The voice came out layered, as if two throats were speaking slightly out of sync. "You are... warm."

Its head leaned further, vertebrae cracking softly.

"Why?"

Then it moved.

Fast.

The creature crossed the distance in two strides, each step cratering the packed earth. Its hand lashed out, fingers spread wide, reaching for Kael’s head.

Kael shifted away.

He shifted—half a step to the left, weight pivoting on his rear foot. Reversal Steps. The talons passed a hand’s width from his face.

The creature’s momentum carried it forward. It stumbled, catching itself with one hand.

Kael’s blade came around in a tight arc, cutting toward the exposed wrist.

The steel bit into flesh. Blood welled—black, thick.

The creature jerked its hand back and made a sound—high-pitched, almost a whine.

Kael’s chest tightened.

That sound. Like a child.

Behind him, seven bodies. The old man’s torso split open like firewood.

And this *thing* whined like it was the one being wronged.

It clutched the wounded wrist to its chest, hunching over it. The misaligned eyes stared at the cut, then at Kael.

"Hurts," it whispered. "Why... hurts?"

Kael reset his stance, blade angled forward. Watching.

The creature took a step back. Then another. Its breathing changed—faster, uneven.

Then it shrieked.

The sound was piercing, inhuman. It lunged forward again, both hands sweeping in wide arcs—no technique, just raw fury.

Kael sidestepped the first swing. The talons tore through the air where he’d been standing and smashed into the side of a house. Wood splintered. The wall caved inward with a deafening crack. Planks exploded outward in a spray of splinters.

The creature charged forward. Its other hand came around low, raking across the ground.

Kael pivoted backward, letting the strike pass. Dirt and stone erupted from the impact, scattering across the square.

The creature turned toward him, breathing hard. Its face kept shifting—mouth sliding up and down, eyes drifting.

It charged.

This time Kael moved forward.

Reversal Sword. The first strike—exploratory. He cut upward, blade tracking the creature’s leading arm.

The creature pulled back instinctively, flinching from the steel.

Kael followed. Second strike—guiding. He angled the blade toward the creature’s knee, forcing it to shift weight.

The creature stepped aside, balance disrupted.

Third strike.

Kael’s sword flashed across, cutting deep into the creature’s thigh.

The creature screamed. Its leg buckled. It swung wildly, claws tearing through the air.

Kael was already gone—pivoted to the side, three steps back, resetting.

The creature fell to one knee. Blood poured from the leg wound. It pressed a hand over the gash, whimpering.

"Stop... stop hurting..."

Its voice cracked, childlike.

It looked up at Kael, eyes wet.

"Why?"

Kael’s grip tightened on the sword.

The creature’s face twisted. The whimper turned into a snarl.

It launched itself forward—lunging on all fours on all fours like an animal. Faster than before. Desperate.

Its claws dug into the ground with each stride, leaving deep gouges in the earth.

Kael held his ground.

The creature closed the distance. Its hand shot out—aiming for his chest.

Kael shifted right. The talons grazed his shoulder, tearing cloth but missing flesh.

He brought his left palm up and drove it into the creature’s ribs.

Tide-Subduing Palm. First strike—Crash.

The impact landed with a dull thud. The creature’s breath hitched.

Kael felt it—the creature’s flesh was hard as iron, but beneath it, the Qi was chaotic, a storm of rot.

He struck again.

Second palm—Press.

Same spot. Heavier.

The creature screamed, a sound of pure confusion.

Third palm—Seal. Kael drove his full weight into the strike. His Qi flooded outward—searing, violent.

It didn’t stop the monster, but it disrupted the flow. The creature gagged. Its muscles spasmed. The chaotic Qi backfired, locking its limbs for a crucial heartbeat.

Now.

Kael stepped back and swung his sword in a wide horizontal arc.

The blade cut across the creature’s neck.

Halfway through—muscle and bone by thick muscle and bone.

But deep enough.

The creature staggered. Blood poured from the wound, black and viscous. It reached up with both hands, clutching at its throat.

It fell to its knees.

"Hurts..." it whispered. "Hurts... so much..."

Its hands trembled. The blood kept flowing.

Kael circled behind it. He raised his sword and brought it down on the back of the creature’s neck.

Once.

The blade sank deeper.

Twice.

Bone cracked.

Three times.

The head came free.

The body collapsed forward. Blood pooled beneath it, spreading across the dirt.

Kael stood over the corpse, breathing steadily. Aside from the cloth at his shoulder being torn open, he was unharmed—only the hem of his garment was lightly stained.

He looked at the ruined house—the wall caved in, the roof sagging. Deep gouges scarred the square where the creature had torn through the earth.

[Aether: +12]

He stared at the notification.

Twelve.

More than all the starving cannibals combined.

This thing was real.

A true Yaomo.

Kael looked around the square. Seven dead villagers. The old man was among them, his body torn in half.

And the woman.

She sat in the same spot, rocking the bundle. Humming.

The creature had killed everyone.

Everyone except her.

Kael sheathed his sword and walked toward her.

She kept rocking.

He crouched down in front of her.

"You need to leave."

No response. Just the humming.

Kael reached out and touched her shoulder gently.

She flinched. Her eyes flicked to his face, then away.

"It’s not safe here. You need to go."

She looked down at the bundle in her arms.

"He’s sleeping," she whispered. "He needs to sleep."

Kael stepped behind her.

He raised the sword and set the edge lightly against the side of her neck.

She kept rocking, humming to the bundle in her arms.

His eyes lowered.

*She would not feel pain.*

*I would end it for her.*

The blade rested there for a long moment.

His grip tightened. Then eased.

The edge lifted away.

He lowered the sword and slid it back into the scabbard.

He stepped back, left the rest of his food behind.

There was nothing he could do.

He turned and walked toward the edge of the village.

Behind him, the woman’s humming continued.

Soft.

Endless.

Empty.