The Quest Is Simply To NTR All The Heroes - Chapter 250

Chapter 250: A New Hero!
The bamboo wall gave way with a deafening crack, like a fat guy sitting on a flimsy chair at a buffet.

Sure, the cats had home-ground advantage, numbers, and all that, but to the dogs, those numbers were just future slaves and a buffet of fresh meat. And maybe a few snacks to chase later.

Arrows rained down like it was a half-assed fireworks show, and the rare cat mages—if you could call their weak-ass spells “magic”—threw fireballs and wind blades that wouldn’t even singe a dog’s fur.

Rock shards? Pfft, might as well throw pebbles from a garden. These dogs? They were practically walking tanks.

Every dog had at least two cats trying to poke at them with spears, but it was like trying to stab a brick wall covered in fur. And they fought like they were late for a dinner reservation—didn’t care if they bled, lost a limb, or accidentally crushed a few cat skulls along the way.

The bigger the mess, the better.

Meanwhile, the elders were out there trying to throw hands with the biggest, nastiest dogs they could find.

But Jacky? Nah, he wasn’t about to waste his time on a bunch of old fools. Let his lackeys play tag with those brittle bones while he reaped the real rewards.

Jacky was here for the slaves, baby, and he wasn’t going to let some old folks with walking sticks get in the way of his prize.

Under Jacky’s orders, the dogs had the village looking like a twisted Black Friday sale. They’d created a clear path through the busted wall, dragging out civilians and wounded warriors like they were snatching up the last discount flat-screen TVs. Women screamed, warriors groaned, and Jacky? He was loving every second of it.

“Come here, little pussy,” Jacky grinned wickedly at a lone cat warrior blocking his way, twirling his sledgehammer like it was foreplay. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

The cat warrior, a lone badass standing firm with his spear aimed dead at Jacky, looked like he was about to deliver some superhero-level justice. Jacky wasn’t having it.

Without another word, he charged forward like a wrecking ball in heat, swinging his hammer with a grunt that could wake the dead. For a split second, Jacky thought he had him. Thought that hammer was about to meet some kitty skull with a satisfying crunch.

But just as the hammer was about to make contact, the cat blurred like a ninja on speed, disappearing and reappearing behind him. Jacky blinked.

What the hell just happened? Before he could even think, the cat drove his spear straight through Jacky’s gut. Blood poured from the wound, painting the ground in deep red as Jacky dropped to his knees, gripping the shaft of the spear like it was his lifeline.

“Such… strength…”

Jacky growled, coughing up blood but somehow still grinning through it.

The cat warrior, now basking in the glow of what he thought was victory, straightened up.

“Luke. That’s my name. Remember it when you’re rotting in hell.”

For a moment, Luke had the audacity to think he’d won, like he was the star of some heroic fantasy.

He imagined himself with the world at his feet, the village singing his name, and a harem of adoring fans lining up to praise their new savior.

But, of course, reality’s a cruel mistress.

Luke had pumped himself up for this moment, imagining how glorious it would be to take down Jacky, the infamous leader of the dogs.

After the humiliating incident earlier—where his… “heroic sword” had been compared to a worm—Luke felt like he had something to prove.

Of course, it wasn’t a damn worm, just a momentary lapse in full readiness, but did Ronali have to point it out in front of everyone like that?

“Damn Ronali,” Luke muttered to himself as he twisted the spear deeper into Jacky’s gut. “I’ll deal with her later, but first, I need to make this overgrown mutt pay.”

Jacky groaned in agony, blood seeping from his wound, but even in his pain, he was still grinning like he had a backup plan.

Luke, sensing his moment for some epic, hero-like line, puffed out his chest.

“When the night turns light, that doesn’t mean we’re cowards—” He paused for effect.

Jacky’s expression turned from agony to confusion.

“…”

“…”

“What… the hell are you talking about?”

Luke blinked, his brain scrambling to remember the rest of the line.

“Uh… I mean… don’t think we’re cowards just ’cause you’re… bigger than us. We’re still stronger.”

He coughed, his face flushing. The cool, badass speech he’d rehearsed a million times in his head just fell apart, like he was a drunk trying to quote Shakespeare.

The silence that followed made his awkwardness worse, and to make matters even more ridiculous, Jacky, in the middle of bleeding out, actually managed to look up at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Bro… are you okay?”

Jacky wheezed, struggling not to laugh even while dying.

Luke’s face burned with embarrassment.

“Shut up! You get the point!”

He twisted the spear harder, though now he just felt like a fool delivering mid-speech fatality.

Luke, in full wannabe hero mode, puffed out his chest and went for the most over-the-top monologue he could muster. Again.

“I’ll parade your head through the streets! End this battle! I’ll be the light in the darkness, the hero this village—”

Before he could get any further into his verbal masturbation, Jacky cut him off with an eye roll so aggressive it could’ve knocked Luke out on its own.

“Pussy, you’re gonna kill me with those cringe-ass words faster than this spear ever could.”

Luke blinked, thrown off mid-rant.

“Huh? Uh… Shut up! You’re dying, so you have to listen to my speech!”

He stomped his foot like a kid who got told to go to bed early. He was the hero, dammit. He deserved to deliver his epic, dramatic lines in peace!

Jacky let out a bored groan, his face clearly showing he’d rather have a sledgehammer dropped on his balls than listen to one more syllable.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Shakespeare. Can you hurry up with the whole ‘killing me’ thing? You sound like my ex when she was trying to break up with me. Long-winded and pointless.”

Luke, still blissfully unaware, failed to notice the very important detail: Jacky wasn’t bleeding like a normal guy who just got a spear rammed into his gut.

Instead of blood splattering to the ground like some epic gore scene, the crimson liquid was swirling, like it was taking a damn spa day around Jacky’s hands that were gripping the spear. It was almost as if Jacky had control over the blood itself.

But no, our boy Luke was too busy trying to salvage his dignity, which had been beaten down more than Jacky’s actual body at this point.

“Listen! I said you’re dying, so stop with the backtalk and just… die gracefully or something!”

Jacky smirked, clearly amused.

“Sure, buddy. Just one problem… You’re not the only one who’s got tricks up their sleeve.”