The Hunted Regressor: My Heretic Saint System Chapter 41

The tavern cleared out faster than a free ale keg at a bore-folk wedding.

Tables were shoved aside, chairs were stacked, and a makeshift ring was formed in the muddy street outside The Broken Mug. The patrons, hungry for blood, cheered and shoved, making bets with whatever coin they had.

In one corner stood Gorm, cracking his neck and looking like a boulder that had learned to walk.

In the other corner stood Ignotus, picking lint off his black shirt.

Felix stood on the sidelines, wringing his hands so hard his knuckles were white.

“He’s going to die…”

Felix whimpered to Lykos.

“He’s insane; he’s going to be turned into paste. Look at the size of that man! He eats people like him for snacks!”

Lykos didn’t answer. He just watched Ignotus with narrowed eyes, his tail twitching nervously. He remembered the bandits. He remembered the confidence. But this was different. This was a duel of strength against a giant… indeed, Ignotus and Goliath.

“Looking at your face…”

Ignotus, oblivious to his butler’s panic, stretched his arms.

“I really feel like bashing it in. It’s just… asking for it, you know?”

“Big words for a dead man.”

Gorm scoffed, spitting a glob of mucus onto the dirt.

“Are you ready to meet your ancestors?”

“Sure. But let’s make this fair.”

Ignotus pointed at Gorm’s massive axe.

“Using weapons on a weakling like me seems like overkill, doesn’t it? Unless you’re scared?”

Gorm’s eyes flashed, the taunt landing perfectly.

“…Hands then.”

He tossed the massive axe aside.

It hit the ground with a heavyTHUDthat shook the dirt.

“Yes…”

Ignotus smiled.

“Hands.”

“BEGIN!”

Someone shouted, and Gorm didn’t wait, charging forth.

It was like watching a bull rush a matador, the ground trembling with every step.

Gorm lowered his shoulder, intent on tackling Ignotus and crushing him into the mud.

“I’LL CRUSH YOU!”

Ignotus stood there, his hands behind his back, watching the mountain of meat barreling toward him get closer and closer.

But just as Gorm was about to make impact—

“Hm…”

Ignotus sidestepped.

He simply took one smooth step to the left.

Gorm, committed to the tackle, rushed past him, stumbling as he hit nothing but air.

“Where are you going? I’m over here.”

Roaring loudly at Ignotus’s teasing, Gorm skidded to a halt and spun around with surprising speed for a big man.

“SHUT IT!”

He swung a massive fist, a haymaker that could have decapitated a horse.

Ignotus ducked, and the fist passed inches over his head.

Before Gorm could retract his arm, Ignotus stepped in.

He wasn’t strong enough to punch Gorm out; he knew that.

His Strength stat was trash. But physics? Physics didn’t care about stats.

Ignotus grabbed Gorm’s extended arm and used the giant’s own momentum to pivot on his heel, sticking his leg out to block Gorm’s ankle.

“Down you go.”

He pulled.

“YOU DAMNED BASTARD!”

Gorm, off-balance and unable to catch himself thanks to Ignotus’s foot, fell over, his massive weight working against him.

THUD.

The giant hit the dirt face-first, the impact sounding wet and painful.

“No way…”

“…w-what just happened?”

“This can’t be fucking happening.”

Around them, the crowd gasped, many ruffling their hair, worried they’d lost all their coin.

“Get up, giant egg!”

Ignotus chirped while backing away.

“Or is the ground that comfortable?”

Gorm growled, spitting out mud from his mouth.

“You…”

He pushed himself up, his face red with rage.

“YOU LITTLE RAT!”

Learning nothing, he lunged again, abandoning any possibility of technique for pure, unadulterated violence, and swiped with both hands, trying to grab Ignotus and snap him in half like the twig he saw him as.

Ignotus wove through the clumsy grabs, slipping under arms and pivoting around the giant’s bulk. Every time Gorm missed, he grew angrier, and every time he grew angrier, he got sloppier.

“Missed me.”

Swipe.

“Too slow.”

Grab.

“Nope.”

Ignotus was toying with him.

It was humiliating him beyond any extreme.

“GRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAH!”

Finally, Gorm roared in frustration and tried a bear hug, spreading his arms wide to catch the slippery eel. Ignotus, meanwhile, stopped moving and stood right in front of Gorm, waiting.

“GOTCHA!”

Gorm closed his arms, believing himself to have finally caught him.

And yet, at the last second, Ignotus dropped into a crouch beneath the giant’s arms and swept his leg in a perfect arc, aiming for the back of Gorm’s knees.

Crack!

Gorm’s legs buckled.

As the giant fell backward, Ignotus sprang up.

He didn’t let Gorm hit the ground alone; grabbing the front of Gorm’s vest, Ignotus pulled himself into the man. Raising his right knee, he used every ounce of his meager strength and fell alongside him, slamming it directly into Gorm’s nose.

Crunch…

An attack that brought one nasty sound.

Gorm’s eyes rolled back as his nose exploded in a spray of red.

He was out cold the moment his back hit the ground.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Silence fell over the street.

Ignotus stood over the unconscious giant, rubbing his knee.

“Damn… you’ve got a hard head. I guess he’s a boiled egg.”

Grinning, he looked at the crowd.

“Nothing?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Ignotus hummed.

“Maybe I need to work on my delivery.”

Chuckling, he looked at the stunned Ironheads.

“Anyhow, who’s next?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Nobody moved.

“HE—”

Suddenly, from the sidelines, a squeal of pure joy erupted.

“HE WON!”

Felix, realizing his master wasn’t dead, felt a surge of adrenaline he had never experienced before. The fear vanished, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming urge to be part of the winning team.

“Hahahahahah!”

He rushed forward, dodging the stunned spectators.

“Stay on the ground, you bastard!”

Felix screamed while running up to the unconscious Gorm.

“How dare you act so arrogantly! You dare challenge the Young—him?!”

He looked around, wild-eyed.

“With me, everyone! Let’s stomp this bastard!”

Gorm’s men—the Ironheads—took a step forward to stop him, but they froze.

Ignotus was looking at them, his eyes promising a swift end if they interfered.

“Don’t.”

They didn’t.

Seeing the coast was clear, the seven guards, who had been watching from the tavern doorway, decided to join the fun.

“FOR THE LORD!”

“TEACH HIM A LESSON!”

“SHOW HIM WHO WE ARE!”

They surrounded the unconscious Gorm and, following Felix’s lead, began kicking the absolute Hell out of him.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“That’s for the ten-copper insult!”

Felix yelled, delivering a surprisingly vicious kick to Gorm’s ribs.

“That’s for threatening my Lord!”

Ulv joined in, stomping on Gorm’s hand.

“Hm…”

Ignotus watched his butler and the guards gang up on a defenseless, unconscious man.

“They’re so violent.”

He sighed, shaking his head with a smile.

“What is the world coming to?”

Lykos stared at him, deadpanned.

He couldn’t believe that Ignotus, of all people, was saying that.

Yet, he didn’t bother with it any longer, preferring to do something else:

“C’mon! Let’s stomp this bastard hard!”

The wolf had joined in the fun!