A Cradle to Avert Apocalypse C10

Chapter 10

“I—I can fight too! I’m one of the sturdier ones here, and I’ve got resistance gear as well…!”

“Just go.”

“….”

Kwon Shinju bit his lip hard, his eyes flashing with defiance. Stubbornness clearly ran in the family. But this was no time to calmly observe similarities between brothers.

Nam Shinhoo fixed his gaze on the monster. The portion visible above ground looked like an ordinary tree, but its roots were so thin and long they were nearly impossible to track. If handled carelessly, the core would simply shift locations along the roots.

Then it has to be burned from the tips in one go….

“I—I’m a proper Hunter too! I’m the squad leader. I can’t just run away first! I may not be S-rank like my brother, but I can still help!”

Kwon Shinju shouted, pressing a hand to his chest.

“O-Or I’ll take the front and defend, so you attack from behind. I’ve got a high-grade shield—I can hold out!”

“…Seriously.”

Nam Shinhoo felt a headache coming on as Kwon Shinju yelled behind him. Why couldn’t he just run quietly? If Kwon Shinju died here, things would become especially troublesome.

Worse still, something about his words grated on Nam Shinhoo’s nerves. Protect whom, exactly? Knowing full well that Nam Shinhoo was stronger—why did they all insist, even while weak, even knowing they could die…?

“I don’t need it.”

Without turning his head, Nam Shinhoo kept his weapon trained on the monster.

“A search unit leaves once the search is done. You hand things over to the support team and withdraw. Knowing when to step back matters too. Charging in when you know you’ll lose is just stupidity.”

No one praised reckless participation in an unwinnable fight. All it did was waste precious lives—and Nam Shinhoo had seen far too many people die that way.

“You and Kwon Haeju look the same to me. Even if that impressive brother of yours were here instead of you, I’d still say he was in the way. Close-range physical types have terrible compatibility with something hiding underground.”

“….”

As Kwon Shinju stiffened with a strange expression, a guild member at the side shouted,

“I-It’s moving! Over here!”

It was one of the guild members evacuating through the air, having spotted changes in the ground.

“Move!”

“Y-Yes! Everyone retreat! Contact the scattered members in each direction, regroup, and rendezvous!”

Kwon Shinju shouted. This time, it sounded properly like an order.

Leaving behind a Kwon Shinju who finally looked like a squad leader, Nam Shinhoo took his stance. The writhing vines of the monster began to emerge from the ground.

It’s coming.

Nam Shinhoo moved while slicing through the vines. With sharp, air-cutting swings, several roots were severed. Yet for every root cut down, more sprouted from the ground. At this rate, it would never end.

He needed to hold out until everyone evacuated, then incinerate everything—from the roots to the core—in a single strike. To do that, he had to locate the core first—

There.

Just as Nam Shinhoo identified what looked like the central root and prepared to charge, the change came from the opposite direction.

“…!”

Behind him, a dark brown root burst from the ground—not at Nam Shinhoo, but curving smoothly toward an Epic Guild member still in midair. True to a monster’s instincts, it targeted the weakest prey. Sharp thorns jutted along the length of the thin root.

“Aah… I’m too—!”

The guild member squeezed his eyes shut as the root rushed toward him. Suspended midair, unable to change direction or defend himself, he thought—I’m dead.

In that instant, light exploded before his eyes.

It happened in a blink. A spear shot up from the ground, instantly incinerating the root into dust. The once-rigid dark brown vine collapsed limply, then crumbled into sand and scattered away.

“I—I’m alive?”

The guild member opened his tightly shut eyes and looked down. Nam Shinhoo stood there. The weapon in his hand glimmered brilliantly. Blunt at the tip, with mana stones embedded here and there, it was a crude, peculiar weapon—somewhere between a spear and a staff.

Nam Shinhoo rubbed the weapon with his fingers. His unique weapon vibrated in his palm, as if it possessed its own will.

“To ignore me and focus on someone else—pretty rude for a monster.”

As if responding, the spear trembled softly.

If possible, Nam Shinhoo had wanted to resolve this without drawing this weapon. It was another guild’s hunting ground, and he’d hoped to keep things quiet. His unique weapon was, unfortunately, very flashy.

But this cowardly plant monster had no intention of letting him do that.

Can’t be helped. I’ll finish it quickly.

A system message appeared before his eyes.

[Target analysis in progress]
[Analysis complete. Fire-aspect ether: 70%. Wood-aspect ether: 25%. Dark-aspect ether: 4.2%. Target optimal energy calculated. Estimated output: 30%. 40%.]

As if signaling full charge, the gem embedded at the spear’s tip began to glow.

“Alright. Let’s end this in one go, Lubingia.”

Nam Shinhoo’s spear—Luin Buada—emitted a soft, radiant light.

He shouted to the Hunters who hadn’t yet evacuated.

“Everyone, grab onto nearby tree trunks!”

A colossal beam of light slammed down from the sky to the ground.

“If Kwon Haeju and Nam Shinhoo fought, who do you think would win?”

An elderly MC asked on a low-quality TV program. It was a topic often chewed over on late-night broadcasts. Some passionately argued that Kwon Haeju, specialized in close combat, would have the advantage. Others insisted Nam Shinhoo, with his unmatched record of achievements, would prevail.

“The key point here is their combat styles.”

The MC read mechanically from the script.

“Then it’s obviously Kwon Haeju who has the edge.”

A commentator from Kwon Haeju’s side stood up as if waiting for the cue.

“As everyone knows, Hunter Kwon Haeju can fight regardless of opponent type. He can wield every weapon—ranged, melee, even auxiliary weapons. In other words, he suffers no penalties no matter who he faces. And in pure physical strength, Kwon Haeju is far superior.”

“That applies to Hunter Nam Shinhoo as well.”

A voice rose from Nam Shinhoo’s supporters.

“Hunter Nam Shinhoo controls attributes. No matter what attribute the opponent has, he can respond accordingly. That’s thanks to his skills and his unique weapon, Luin Buada, which can discharge all attributes. On top of that, Hunter Nam Shinhoo can convert external energy into his own.”

The supporter’s eyes shone.

“Do you know how incredible that is?”

His face brimmed with near-fanatical conviction.

“As long as Earth’s energy is infinite, Hunter Nam Shinhoo’s power is infinite as well.”

The single strike that slammed into the ground sent out a thunderous roar. The dense forest was carved away. Power surged along the roots centered on a single tree, spreading outward. Electricity-like energy that dismantled cells and pierced nerves burned through the monster.

—Kiiieeeek!

A shrill scream tore at the eardrums as the earth convulsed. Roots buried underground writhed in agony. Unstable vibrations rippled through the forest, spreading outward from the tree. The entire mountain shook violently, like an earthquake.

As the ground continued to quake, grotesquely sprouting roots burned black and crumbled away. The tree, turning a dull gray, gradually dispersed into the air.

When the flash faded, a narrow, deep sinkhole remained where Nam Shinhoo had struck—the trace of where the monster had once taken root.

A monster that had spread its roots across half the mountain died in an instant. It was a battle so one-sided it was almost laughable to even call it a fight.

“Is it… dead? Just like that?”

“What did I just see?”

Hunters emerged from behind fallen tree trunks, mouths agape.

“That wasn’t a boss-level monster? Plant-types are supposed to be worse, and it went down in one hit….”

“I didn’t even see it properly.”

The guild members stared in shock at the monster’s swift annihilation.

Powerful attacks were nothing unusual. An S-rank Hunter could easily unleash an attack capable of leveling a mountain. But the control and destructive precision required to target only a deeply rooted, mobile-core plant monster—burning away every last root without leaving a trace—was beyond imagination.

And yet, the surrounding trees were untouched. Only the area where the monster had taken root was annihilated in a single strike.

“That’s insane.”

“Fuck. Is this what life balance is supposed to be? No, seriously—this is unreal.”

Meanwhile, Nam Shinhoo calmly stowed his spear away. The weapon, its output settling, flickered faintly and vanished. He rubbed his ash-stained shoe against the ground.

That was stronger than I expected.

He’d intended to quietly destroy just the core to avoid drawing attention, but instead he’d incinerated the monster completely.

Nam Shinhoo looked down into the pitch-black sinkhole, so deep the bottom couldn’t be seen. The traces of roots branching in countless directions were long and persistent.