Read Adventurer Tale of Pouring 25 Years of Life into a Useless Skill, and Now After All That Time is the Strongest

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　Surprised by the sudden greeting, Thor quickly looked around and understood.

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　The place where the hole was drilled happened to be very close to Thor's lodgings.

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　Or perhaps the location's proximity to a rough wall, which is an easy target at a time like this, was part of the reason for the low rent.

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　Thor escaped from the crisis with unexpected help, but he soon noticed that Yuril's complexion was unusual.

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　His skin, which is normally so white, has completely lost its bloodlust.

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　Even the tips of his long ears had turned white, indicating that he had run out of magic power.

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　Thor rushes to Yuril, who was leaning on the broom, and holds him in his arms.

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　It is true that he had lower branch skills, but he was at this depth while dispersing more than ten opponents.

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　The amount of magic power consumed must have been extraordinary.

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　He hurriedly searched Yuril's history with his maximum magic power and his whole body.

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　Thor, still shielding the woman on his back, turns to the monsters with his sword at the ready.

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"Are you all right?"

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"Oh?　I wonder if this is thanks to you, Thor. Yes, even my back feels better."

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"May I ask for a little help?"

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Yes, you can leave your back to me if you like.

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　Hearing their encouraging replies, Thor quickly closed the distance between them and cut off the heads of the sleeping hobgoblins one after another.

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　The monsters crouched and nodded, just as if they were waiting to be beheaded.

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　When more than half of them had been cut down, the rest awoke at once and stooped low, aware of the corpses of their comrades.

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　But the ice users were also waiting for them to wake up.　

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"Fog, block it up--."

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　Just as Thor jumps back after hearing the prayer, sparkling ice crystals reflecting light fly through the air around the monsters.

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　The hobgoblins look puzzled for a moment, but continue to fight, letting out a roar.

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　Keeping the six approaching hobgoblins in view, he slashes the wrist of one of the hobgoblins that he has just barely pulled back, and slashes its kneecap with the blade of the returning hobgoblin.

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　As the leader crouched down and the followers stumbled, he turned around and slashed his flanks.

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　While retreating backward, the third body swung its sword at him from below, and he swung at its jaw with his blade.

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　Thor continued to move around, concentrating on not being surrounded, while aiming at the end of the line.

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　Normally, this would have been a sign of defeat, but for some reason, the monsters slowed down and their breathing became more labored.

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　The minute amounts of ice sucked into their lungs had begun to cause them to bleed so much that they could not recover in time.

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　Soon the hobgoblins are almost at a standstill.

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　Now it is up to Thor.

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　Thor thrusts his sword into the eye socket of one of the hobgoblins, which has slowed down, and with time to spare, he inserts his blade into the mouth of the second hobgoblin.

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　He decapitates the third and fourth, kicks the fifth through the solar plexus, and then swings his sword straight down into the brain of the sixth.

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　After easily slaughtering the sixteen that had entered, Thor and the others turned to the ones who had been punching the wall hard since a few moments ago.

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"There are still some troublesome ones left. Can you help us?

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"Yes, I would be happy to help you."

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　Thor's voice was a little lighter than usual, but he the sharpness of his iron sword and his whole body and approached the noisy wall.

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　He now has four uses of left.

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　He has now used it three times, since he has made another hole in the wall.

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　As soon as the hole was restored, the horde of hobgoblins behind the wall came into Thor's sight.

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　Behind them, he also catches a glimpse of a large monster in a grove of trees a short distance away.

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　Both eyes that gaze with hatred at all living things, and a mouth full of thick fangs that are split open to the ears.

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　Its trunk, coiled with the fur of a beast, is thirty percent larger than the average hobgoblin.

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　And on his thick, log-like arms was a long club carved from the bones of a boar.

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　This was the first time Thor had seen one in person, but judging from his extraordinary intimidation, he was sure it was their chief, the hobgoblin chief.

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　The hobgoblins looked at each other with rounded eyes when the hole suddenly opened.

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　There is no way that a seasoned magician could have missed that opening.

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"Sleep fast, sleep...

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　Judging from the degree of magic power loss, this would be the end of Yuril's support.

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　Surprised at the effects of his tremendous magic, Thor slips into the crowd of monsters that are hanging their heads one after another.

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　He continues to walk, heads down, with a steady step.

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　When all the hobgoblins have been disposed of, Thor turns silently to the last one.

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　On the ground around it, the corpses of the monsters Thor and his men have slaughtered lie in a heap.

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　The hobgoblin chief, who had killed all fifty of his men, sniffed wildly and hit a nearby tree with his bone club.

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　The monster, which showed the trunk of the tree snapping with a cracking sound, approached Thor with a heavy heart.

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　It was only two heads taller than Thor, but its body was very different.

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　Its body, bent slightly forward, was covered in a dense armor of flesh.

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　Over that, he was clad in a tough boar pelt, making it extremely difficult for even an iron sword to penetrate his blade.

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　If you cut into it carelessly, the blade might even bite into it and make it impossible to pull it out.

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　Thor can only aim at the head or the tips of the arms and legs.

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　The monster came within a few paces and swung the thighbone of the armored boar with a big swing.

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　Considering the difference in arm length, the distance between the weapons changes by about two steps.

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　With a roar that ripped through the air, the club was swung straight down at Thor's head.

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　If he takes the swing, he will not be able to support himself and will be crushed by the sword.

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　If he deflected it, the blade would surely be distorted.

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　The only right thing to do is to avoid it.

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　If you step forward at the same time as you avoid, the blade will reach your face as you step back.

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　But that move was the monster's goal.

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　The club, which seemed to hit the ground, is suddenly altered in its trajectory by a thick upper arm muscle the size of a child's torso.

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　The thick bone, coming up from below, cleaved the space in front of him in a wide area.

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　But Thor was already out of range.　

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　The hobgoblin chief lets out a gasp of annoyance at the feel of the club swinging so loudly.

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　His face contorts slightly.

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　The monster touches his jaw with his free hand and notices that blood is pouring from it.

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　The monster's eyes are now filled with the desire to kill.

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　For a moment, Thor is actually in front of him.

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　In a single blink of an eye, he pulls himself up to top speed, avoids the swinging club, and strikes the monster in the face at the same time.

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　And just as the club changed its trajectory to the side, he kicked the ground and fell back.

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　Again the hobgoblin chief swings his femur in the same manner.

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　The same attack was repeated.

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　And again.

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　With more cuts on his face, the monster swings his stupid, elusive weapon.

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　Thor dodged and dodged, his blade flashing again and again.

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　At first glance, it seems as if Thor has the advantage because he is the only one who has a shot, but in fact, the opposite is true.

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　The hobgoblin chief was bleeding profusely from his face, but most of the wounds were already almost healed.

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　On the other hand, Thor's breathing is getting longer and longer due to the fact that he has been moving as fast as he can, even if only for a short period of time.

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　Moreover, he has been pushed to the wall before he knows it so that it is difficult to retreat.

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　His physical strength is nearing its limit.

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　The iron sword, whose edge has spilled from the repeated blows to the jawbone, is covered in green blood and its sharpness is severely reduced.

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　It will be some time before Yuril's magic recovers.

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　Normally, the monster that is the master of this kobold's cave is a gate to be promoted to the red iron class, and is an opponent that five reasonably well-trained F-ranked men can just barely defeat.

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　It would have been too much for a lowly adventurer to fight it alone.

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　Thor, who had calmly assessed the situation, muttered a few words.　

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"Three slashes in a row is still a bit too much. I feel like I'm getting close.

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　The hobgoblin chief let out an eerie voice, as if he thought his sudden comment was a plea for his life.

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　If someone who could understand the words had been listening, he would have twisted his head, not understanding the meaning.

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　In such a dangerous situation, there was no way he could have known that Thor had been practicing with the iron sword to get used to it.

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　Thor quickly turned himself around and ran into a large hole in the wall.

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　The monster, who had been wounded and excited, quickly followed him.

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　Thor, who had gone into the city first, touches the wall just before the hobgoblin chief, who had caught up with him, swings down his club.

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　One move too soon, and the great hole is .

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　Thor's goal was not to drive the dangerous monster out of the wall.

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　He wants to make sure that he kills it here.

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　The next moment, large piles of rocks rain down from above the hobgoblin chief's head.

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　The hole was indeed , but it was up to Thor to choose at what stage.

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　Thor showed us the moment right after the opening of the big hole in the wall.

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　The monster, unprotected, was hit in the head by a stone of considerable weight and fell to the ground without uttering a sound.

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　Immediately Thor the same moment again.

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　Once again, the falling pile of stones hits the body of the fallen Hobgoblin Chief, and a dull thud echoes through the hole.

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　After the third time, when the monster no longer groans, Thor approaches the stone-covered monster and plunges his sword deep into its motionless eye sockets.

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　Seeing that nothing moves, Thor lets out a slow, deep breath.

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　A gentle, comforting voice is called out to his back.

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"Thank you for your hard work, Thor.

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"Yes, thank you so much for helping--"

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　Thor turned his head and was speechless at the sight of the person in front of him.

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　Standing there was a woman of inhuman beauty.

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　Her hair was straight and white, reaching down to her waist, but her bangs were neatly trimmed.

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　Her sharp, cold face peeked out from beneath it, and her body seemed to be in sharp contrast to the rest of her body.

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　I don't recognize her at all.

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　But the person in front of me is identical in dress and tone of voice to the landlord, Yuril.

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　Noticing Thor's penetrating gaze, the silver-haired beauty gives a soft smile.

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"Is something wrong?　Mr. Toll."

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　Lost for words, a horn sounded over Thor's head, signaling the end of the battle.

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