I Became the Simp Character I Roasted Online-Chapter 43: Looks like someone else is having a worse day

Chapter 43: Looks like someone else is having a worse day

After finishing his sincere prayer and steadying his heart, Revan yelled to Dain.

"Dain, push it toward the dead one."

Dain followed his gaze. His scarred face twitched. "You want it to flatten over the carcass?." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"The body’s rigid. It’ll fold the same way the first one did over the rail. But wider. Wide enough to catch this thing."

"And if it doesn’t flatten? If it jumps?" Dain snapped back.

"Then Lyra guts it in the air. Its underside has no armor."

Lyra said nothing. She shifted her weight onto her good leg, both blades angled low. Ready.

The creature sensed the change in positioning. Its fused skull tracked them, the four-way jaw grinding in that wet, mechanical rhythm.

’Yeah, you’re smart,’ Revan thought, tightening his grip on Volkar’s blade. ’But you’re running two brains on a cracked power supply. Let’s see how long that lasts.’

Dain moved first. He came at the creature’s right flank with a swinging his broadsword in a wide arc.

The creature skittered left, away from the blade. Exactly where they wanted it.

Revan pressed from the front, limping forward with his sword held in a low guard. The creature hissed at him. The sound was worse now.

layered, two vocal systems producing the same grinding note half a second apart.

The guard flanked wide left. The creature retreated another two steps.

It was five meters from the dead carcass now.

And then, its claws dug deep into the frozen earth, abruptly anchoring its heavy body.

Its fused skull turned. Slowly. Deliberately. It looked at the dead creature behind it. Looked at the semicircle closing in from the front.

’No,’ Revan thought, his stomach clenching in sudden dread. ’No, no, no... no way. There is absolutely no way it figured out the trap just by looking at it.’

The creature didn’t retreat over the carcass. It turned sideways and bolted.

Directly away from the trap. It broke through the gap between Dain and the guard with a burst of speed that neither of them could match, six legs churning the frozen earth, and sprinted fifteen meters before wheeling around to face them again.

’I’m officially becoming an atheist right now.’ Revan thought. He was breathing hard.

The sprint — if you could call his lurching charge a sprint — had cost him. Black spots flickered at the edges of his vision.

"I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, boy!" Dain’s voice was hoarse.

The Marshal stood right beside him, panting heavily.

"It won’t fall for the same approach twice."

Revan ground his teeth.

’Fuck you. You literally agreed to the plan and followed my lead twenty seconds ago without a single complaint.’

"Fine!" Revan wheezed, spitting a glob of blood onto the frozen dirt. "Let’s see that brilliant veteran brain of yours handle this, then! Give me a plan!"

But before Dain could answer, the creature charged.

It lunged straight for the weakest link—the lone guard, standing three meters too far from anyone else to receive support.

The man tried to run. He didn’t make it two steps. The creature’s double-hinged jaw caught him by the shoulder and threw him four meters through the air. He hit the ground and didn’t get up.

’Yep. Looks like someone else is having a worse day than I am’

Revan shook his head

’never mind. Dying instantly actually makes him the lucky one today.’

Then Revan let out a sigh—God knows how many times he had sighed already.

’Two guards down. That leaves me, Dain, and Lyra against a two-brained nightmare that can learn.’

She was still just standing there, her face remaining blank and impossible to predict.

’Yep, definitely. That bitch won’t help.’

Someone had to do something before their strength was completely and utterly spent.

’Okay. Think, Revan, think,’ he commanded himself, forcing his mind to sharpen through the haze of agony. ’It won’t go over the carcass. It recognizes environmental traps. It’s protecting the bright crystals on its back half. What does it NOT protect?’

He looked at the creature’s fused body. The seam. The junction where two separate creatures had merged.

A visible line of interlocking bone plates running vertically down the middle of its combined torso. That junction was structural. Load-bearing. If it failed—

"The seam," Revan said. "Center of its body. Where the two halves joined."

Lyra’s eyes snapped to it. She saw it immediately.

"If we split the seam, the merge fails. Two damaged halves are easier to kill than one big whole."

"That seam is armored," Dain said.

A thick vein throbbed in Revan’s forehead.

’What the hell is wrong with this old man? Is his brain made of nothing but muscle?’ For some reason, the memory of the master he’d fought just a week ago flickered through his mind.

"Armored, but structural!" Revan shouted. "It’s bearing the weight of two bodies, Dain. One hard hit to the right spot and the plates can’t hold. The whole thing will buckle!"

Dain looked at Lyra. Lyra looked at Dain.

’Look at these two primates sharing a glance,’ Revan thought, ’They look like monkeys who just saw fire for the first time. They can’t believe the "smarter animal" they’ve been ignoring actually knows what he’s talking about.’

"Fine!" Dain finally roared, stepping into a heavy stance. "Give me the opening, boy!"

They moved together. No signal. No countdown. Dain went center, his broadsword raised for a thrust instead of a swing. Lyra circled right, dragging her wounded leg, positioning herself to cut across the seam from the flank.

Revan went left. His job was simple: be a target. Make the creature turn toward him, exposing the seam to the other two.

He made noise. Stamped his boot against the rail, sending a ringing vibration through the frozen metal. The creature’s fused skull tracked the sound.

"Over here, you factory reject," Revan said.

The creature oriented on him. Four-way jaw grinding open.

’Wonderful. I have its attention. This is the part where I’m supposed to have a plan for what happens when it charges me.’

’I do not have a plan for what happens when it charges me.’

"...."

"Fuck me"

Revan threw himself right.

He fell more than he dodged, his boots slipping on the icy ground, his body hitting the frozen mud in a way that made his fractured ribs scream loud enough to white out his vision for a full second.

But the creature had committed to the lunge. Its fused body stretched, the seam along its center pulling taut as the combined mass extended—

Dain’s broadsword hit the seam dead center.

The thrust drove into the junction with every ounce of the Marshal’s remaining strength behind it. Steel punched through interlocking bone plates with a sound like ice cracking on a lake — sharp, deep, STRUCTURAL.

Lyra’s twin blades hit the same seam from the right flank, both swords driving into the gap that Dain’s thrust had opened.

The creature SCREAMED. Both vocal systems at full volume, a layered shriek of grinding metal and dying machinery. Its body spasmed violently. The seam split — not cleanly, not all at once, but in a jagged, tearing line that ripped through fused bone and dried sinew.

The merge failed.

Two halves of a creature wrenched apart in a shower of bone fragments and dark fluid. The undamaged half — the one with two bright crystals — scrambled away on three legs, trailing gore, its exposed internal side raw and leaking. The damaged half collapsed where it stood, its cracked center crystal finally dying, the remaining two flanking crystals flickering once and going dark.

Half dead.

One more to go.

The surviving half was smaller now, lighter, faster. But it was also missing its left side entirely — three leg, exposed organs visible through the torn junction, no bone armor covering its inner flank. The two bright crystals on its spine pulsed rapidly, irregularly, like a heart in distress.

It ran.

Not away from them. Toward the cart. Toward the CT containers. Toward whatever residual energy had drawn these things to the surface in the first place.

It was trying to feed.

’If it reaches the containers and absorbs enough CT residue to regenerate—’

"DON’T LET IT REACH THE CART!"

Lyra was closest. She threw herself into its path despite her leg, both swords up, and the creature hit her like a freight car.

The impact sent Lyra tumbling sideways. She rolled with it — trained, automatic — but the creature’s grinding jaw caught the edge of her coat and ripped a chunk of fabric and skin from her shoulder. She screamed. First time Revan had heard her make that sound.

But she’d slowed it. Two seconds.

Dain hit it from behind. His broadsword came down on the exposed inner flank — no bone armor, just dried flesh and the raw mechanisms underneath. The blade sank deep.

The creature collapsed mid-stride, skidding forward on the frozen mud, its three remaining legs splaying outward. Its jaw snapped at the air, grinding uselessly.

Revan limped to it. Stood over the two bright crystals on its half-spine. He raised Volkar’s sword — a simple, two-handed grip, straight above the core. His arms shook. His chest was a continuous howl of compressed pain.

He brought the blade down.

Both crystals shattered under the black steel.

The squeal was shorter this time. Weaker. The creature seized, locked rigid, and went still.

Silence.