Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 302
“Hehehe, the newbies aren’t bad. Lackey, you’ll have trouble trying to earn back wakil’s trust.”
Ombuti, who was watching Jamal and Aishe’s contributions from the window, broke into a smile. Satisfied smiles were also seen on Mohammad and Ibrahim’s faces.
“Sir Aklankuru, I know master’s ability well, but shouldn’t we help considering the numbers out there?” Ibrahim carefully asked.
The Aklankuru was the head of all servants. Help from the Aklankuru, who was someone trusted by their master, was necessary to help the Kurd tribe settle.
“Don’t worry. If we join the fray, we’ll only distract wakil. Wakil’s abilities are beyond whatever you can imagine.”
“I agree.” Mohammad nodded.
The Ddu-bai-buru-pa he knew was God’s apostle, no, the incarnation of God. God worried about humans, not the other way around.
“Mr. pilot, let us down in the village. Contact the other helicopter too.”
Ombuti was seasoned. He knew that his wakil would take care of the enemies without even having to witness it. It wouldn’t do good for the pilots if they witnessed a holocaust. The helicopters left the battlefield before Black Mamba went on a rampage.
“What the hell is that dude?”
Black Mamba’s mouth hung open at the sight of his wooden spear bouncing off. There were countless religions and spiritual beliefs in Africa, as a wild society dictated. He considered the spiritual beliefs and atypical rituals as some low-level comedy filled with cliches and madness. He had dismissed the Vodou’s devilish curses and spells as a rumor, an outcome of Africa’s ignorance and Europe’s exaggeration. At that moment, however, it wasn’t comedy or rumor. He had failed to aim at the priest. He would be run over by the crowd if he didn’t create a scene.
Black Mamba kicked off the ground and leaped.
“Shoot, just shoot!” someone yelled.
The guards, who failed to mark the target, started shooting randomly. Black Mamba’s body turned blurry. Their eyes couldn’t keep up with his body, which flickered left and right. Countless bullets meaninglessly raised dust from the ground.
“Ah, it’s the devil!”
The followers who were under the influence of the drug made the best out of their powers. Knives, spears, and farming tools poured down on him like rain. Still, they couldn’t do anything to a moving figure that even bullets couldn’t chase. The weapons soared toward the sky in vain.
“Wha…what is that b*stard?”
Barungo’s eyes widened like lanterns. A human whom a lwa possessed grew limp after using their power. That was because their muscles couldn’t withstand the pressure. Still, what was that b*stard? He was far from limp, running around like mad. Humans were humans and not horses. No, even a racing horse couldn’t run like that. Barungo and Wadanka didn’t have time to recover from their shock. The predator soared into the air and jumped right into the herd of sheep.
“Houngan, something’s not right!”
Wadanka moved back, dragging Barungo along. Spellcasting was a long-range ability, not a short-range combat skill.
“Die, you heathen b*stard!”
The followers surrounded him like a swarm of bees, swinging their machetes and scythes and ignoring their fate. Black Mamba held the short steel rope and swung it around.
The steel rope, which shone under the midday sunlight, formed a semicircle.
Pitiful screams and groans broke out. Their recklessness ended in death. Their necks broke, heads shattered, and chests exploded.
“The b*stard’s alone. Kill him!”
The followers, who were under the influence of the yorunba, ignored their comrades’ deaths and flew in like moths.
Shiny red eyes and frothing at the mouth—both were typical symptoms of a drug overdose. He almost trembled from the madness exuded by the followers.
“You damn b*stards! I guess there’s no point living in such a state,” Black Mamba said through his clenched teeth.
The 10-meter long steel rope weighing 30 kilograms began to tear through the air.
The eerie sound of 1,000,000s of insects flying in the air was heard. Black Mamba’s power, combined with the billion’s water armor, added up to around 5219 Joules.
The steel rope, which was released, formed a big silver arc. The 30-kilogram steel rope acted on centrifugal force and swept across a radius of 10 meters from the axis.
Dozens of people who were caught in its orbit were sliced apart like chopped rice straws.
The hook on the end of the rope served as its weight.
The steel rope rotated faster and faster. The accelerated steep rope struck like a lightning bolt along the cycloid curve and crushed them.
Black Mamba could not empathize with his bloodlust at full swing. The wind that moved left and right like a madman swallowed the approaching crowd. Bullets bounced back, while knives and spears were sliced and destroyed along with the bodies. Blood rained down, and flesh was scattered all over.
“It’s the God of Death!”
The sacrifices were better off with their necks and bodies sliced off. Although they were under the influence of the yorunba, their primitive fear and pain didn’t disappear. The visual horror overwhelmed their fear of pain. People screamed desperately as their arms and legs fell off, and some even had their skins ripped off. The unforgiving steel rope also swallowed their shouts and protests.
“God, why do you send such an evil spirit to your kind servant! Why, why?”
Wadanka couldn’t finish his sentence. The followers he trusted were turning into chunks of meat all over the place. Even those who survived were running away like ducks being chased by a dog. He had never imagined the arrival of such an evil spirit.
That was impossible even if the God of Death, Samedi, had possessed him. The 20-meter silver diameter created by the evil spirit, which moved like a storm, turned into a death zone. Humans, weapons, and farming tools were all destroyed. There was a limit to the human’s body, even if an evil spirit’s power reached the heavens. Wadanka glanced at the Vodun Houngan.
His fear turned into admiration. The life force of the followers, who were in pieces, flowed into the head of rites like worms. It was the Danto spell that increased the effects of spellcasting by absorbing the life force inherent in blood.
Wadanka rushed to summon the lwa of harvesting, Azaka. Wadanka, who was now connected to Azaka, started absorbing the blood too. Barungo opened his eyes. His eyes that were lacking pupils overflowed with blood. The Damballa Wedo growled after consuming the life force.
“You useless b*stards!”
Barungo grabbed the neck of an escaping follower.
Like a crow’s feet, his hands dug into the follower’s chest and shattered it.
The follower let out a single groan before dying. Barungo pulled out the beating heart from the follower’s chest and held it in his hands.
He tightened his grip. The beating heart exploded. A rainbow of blood was displayed.
“Amule Amule Bakan!”
Barungo stretched out with the scepter and pointed it at Black Mamba.
Black Mamba’s hands and feet, which had been moving fearfully, stopped. Something unfamiliar wrapped around his body like an unyielding net. The steel rope, which created a tornado, lost its power and dropped onto the floor.
What the hell is this?
Black Mamba was bewildered. He couldn’t project the energy that was boiling like magma inside his body. It felt disgusting, as though the connection to his power from within was cut off.
The moment he used his resonance waves, the net grew loose.
“Amule Amule Bakan! Tie him up!”
Barungo cast another spell when Black Mamba came to a standstill. His specialty, the binding spell, tightened around Black Mamba like a net.
“Kill the b*stard!” Wadanka shouted.
“Yeah, houngan bound the devil!”
The followers started throwing their knives and farming tools. They couldn’t approach easily after witnessing the devil’s madness.
Unable to move his limbs, Black Mamba had to face all the weapons flying toward him. Although his back was protected by the Boss-saurus’ tendon, his chest and limbs were out in the open. His strong muscles managed to bounce off the farming tools and sticks, but the axes, spears, and scythes embedded themselves into his skin. Although his skin suffered a scratch from that, it was Black Mamba’s first time going through such humiliation.
“Aishe, master’s in danger!” Jamal shouted, breaking out of his trance in the middle of the battlefield.
Surprised, Aishe lifted the MP5 immediately.
The Barrette and MP5 started spewing fire. The followers who were running toward Black Mamba began to fall in rows. Black Mamba used that opportunity to gather his concentration and move the resonance waves in his body. Warm energy filled his insides.
The energy around his hands and feet exploded. His hands and feet began to move. Wadanka joined in once the Samedi showed signs of escaping.
“Bind, Amule Amule Bakan!”
“You f****** b*stards, how dare you!”
Black Mamba’s hair was raised. He looked extremely angry. The Epidium’s violent nature, which had been suppressed the entire time, exploded. Spells were another kind of interference. A mental battle between the two Vodou priests and Black Mamba took place.
A roar, several times louder than a tiger’s, was heard. A strong resonance wave was released.
The binding spell shattered like glass shattered by a rock.
Barungo and Wadanka swayed in their places, vomiting blood.
“Protect the houngan!” The followers gathered like a swarm of bees.
“I’ll kill all of you.”
Black Mamba moved the steel rope violently as his killing intent hit an all-time high.
A tornado consumed the followers. Streaks of blood soared in the sky while sliced arms and legs were scattered like leaves on the ground.
Another terrifying sight unfolded. Arms, legs, and intestines that were swept up by the tornado swirled around, with Black Mamba at its center. The square was filled with the sound of short cries, air bursts, and impacts made by the steel rope. Asura’s hell had descended on humanity.
“The devil’s gone mad!”
The overwhelming visual suppressed the hallucination caused by the yorunba. The frightened followers started sprinting away from the tornado. Some laid flat on the ground and pretended to be dead. The fear brought about by Black Mamba overwhelmed their madness.
The waists of three men and women, who had displayed hostility and attacked till the end, were sliced off. Their organs poured out. The tornado stopped.
His eyes, which were dyed a bright red color, regained their original black and white colors. There wasn’t a single human standing in the square. He didn’t bother killing the few followers who were running and those who were lying on the ground. He had initially wielded the steel rope to suppress their madness and reduce the killings.
“That rat b*stard, he runs pretty fast.”
The two Vodou priests were nowhere to be seen.
“They’re fleas anyway.”
Black Mamba smiled wickedly. As long as anyone remained within a one-kilometer radius of his dimensional sight, he wouldn’t miss them. Those two were sinful b*stards who he had to catch and punish.
He released his dimensional sight.
After sensing their location, Black Mamba jumped off the ground.
Aishe couldn’t continue. The cotton farm’s square had turned into hell on Earth. There were pieces of human bodies everywhere. Red blood flowed like a stream. It was a holocaust scene that was incomparable to when the Turkish Armed Forces had trampled their village. She had forgotten that Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa wasn’t human, dazzled by his humane charms.
The Ddu-bai-buru-pa whom she saw was caring and loving. She didn’t feel distant around him. She recalled scolding him for making Edel sad. She had basically poked the tiger’s nose without realizing it. Her heart grew cold.
“Master is someone who changes terrains when he’s mad. I saw him destroy a cliff and raise a flood with my own eyes. Master acts weak around the weak and acts strong around the strong. I managed to survive by his grace. Whoo! I can’t even keep up with the number of people he has killed.”
Jamal was in a daze. He didn’t know what to do with all those corpses.
“Jamal, shouldn’t we go after our master?”
“Yes, let’s. Cleaning is the job of servants. Sir Aklankuru should be able to handle this place.”
“Huh, what are those b*stards?” Ibrahim muttered as he looked out the window.
Two men were sighted on the run—one old man wearing a tunic and holding onto a scepter and another middle-aged man.
“They look like Vodou priests.”
Ombuti opened the door.
He couldn’t tell whether they were friends or foes. The two men cautiously ran into the church.
Another human figure flew past.
“It’s master!” Ibrahim and Mohammad shouted at the same time.
“It seems like our master chased them there. Let us head over.”
Ombuti, Ibrahim, and Mohammad grabbed their weapons and got off the helicopter.
“Did I make a wrong turn?”
Black Mamba was confused. There was an altar before him and a picture on the wall of Jesus leading sheep. The midday sunlight, which shone through the stained glass, lit up the cross and the statue of Maria. It was no different from any church. Still, those b*stards’ traces definitely led him to the church. They could fool a ghost but not him.
Hm, these b*stards.
He felt something, which had a faint bloody smell, wrapping around him. He searched for an underground room using his dimensional sight. There was no information. His dimensional sight was constantly interrupted. He could sense some waves interfering with his dimensional sight coming from behind the altar. It was the same kind of energy that bounded him.
Ombuti, Ibrahim, and Mohammad entered.
Black Mamba went around the altar and rolled his feet. Black Mamba’s ears could hear the faintest of sounds, even the sound of a moth’s fluttering wings at night. He immediately found a ringing, hollow space.
His billion’s water armor tore apart the mahogany floor as though he was tearing apart crackers. A black staircase appeared.
“I’ll head down first, sir.”
“Step back. Those b*stards aren’t ordinary humans.”
Black Mamba headed down the staircase first. The spiral staircase seemed endless. An iron door blocked their path at the point where the staircase stopped. Moisture had turned it rusty red, but it was a durable obstacle that didn’t allow even paper to pass.
Ibrahim and Mohammad tried pushing the door. It didn’t budge. Ibrahim placed his ear against the door and knocked.
“Master, there’s a problem. It’s more than 100 millimeters thick.”
“Damn it. I should have brought the composition.” Mohammad’s face creased.
“I would rather not have explosives around. Let’s live quietly, hm? Hehe!” Black Mamba laughed.
There was a perfect item to use in such a situation.