The Strongest Curse Master - Chapter 187

Chapter 187: Kill Chapter 187: Kill “Kurae!” Emi yelled in her native language, her voice sharp and commanding as she hurled a volley of kunai.

Each blade shimmered in the dim light, its hilt attached to an explosion talisman.

They whizzed through the air toward the charging monstrosity-a Werefur curse slave covered in thick, long, dark fur-closing in on her at a terrifying speed.

The Werefur curse slave resembled a grotesque hybrid of man and beast, its entire body cloaked in long, tangled fur reminiscent of an ungroomed black komondor dog.

Its razor-sharp fangs glinted menacingly, and though its eyes were obscured by the dense fur, it moved with unnerving precision, as if its senses were completely unimpaired.

Charging forward with reckless abandon, the Werefur curse slave seemed utterly unfazed by the oncoming kunai.

Its massive frame barreled toward Emi, single-mindedly focused on its target, exuding an aura of primal ferocity.

Clunk!

The kunai struck their mark, embedding themselves in the creature’s dense fur.

However, the fur proved tougher than steel wire, halting the kunai before they could pierce the skin.

The Werefur curse slave didn’t flinch; it continued its relentless charge, the kunai lodged firmly in its fur like insignificant thorns.

But Emi wasn’t done.

The talismans attached to the kunai began to glow ominously before detonating with a deafening BOOM.

The blast reverberated through the woods, accompanied by a guttural roar of agony from the Werefur curse slave.

Though the explosion failed to shred through the thick fur, it drove the fragmented kunai shards deep into the creature’s body.

The Werefur curse slave stumbled briefly, its roar echoing through the forest like a thunderclap.

But even as its wounds smoked and its fur smoldered, it showed no sign of retreating.

Blood didn’t spill from its injuries; instead, the embedded shards were forcefully expelled as its flesh began to knit itself back together.

Within moments, the wounds healed entirely, and the fur regrew, now even denser and more impenetrable than before.

Emi narrowed her eyes, her breathing steady despite the tension in the air.

“Tch,” she muttered under her breath, taking a defensive stance as the creature resumed its charge, holding a talisman and kunai in each of her hands, undeterred and more dangerous than ever.

[Emi, get out of there.

Don’t try to face the Werefur curse slave head-on.

It’s pointless.

Use your family’s movement ninja arts to keep it occupied in one spot.

I’ll aim for its heart and take it out cleanly,] Ace instructed through the status screen, his voice firm yet calm.

From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the battlefield, his rail rifle poised to strike.

His plan was simple but precise: take out the Werefur by destroying its heart, the vessel holding both the curse slave and Werefur’s curse cores.

[Got it, Master,] Emi responded without hesitation, her tone unwavering despite the gravity of her task.

She knew what her master was asking of her-be the bait-but she didn’t falter.

As a summoned toy and a hero of her fictional universe, fear wasn’t in her nature, even against stronger and more feral enemies.

The Werefur, now only a few yards away, growled deep in its throat, its bloodlust had reached its peak.

Spotting its prey within striking distance, it lunged forward with incredible force, its razor-sharp claws slicing through the air, aimed directly at Emi’s heart.

The strike wasn’t random; it was instinctively targeting her curse core, the source of her essence.

But just as its claws were about to land, Emi vanished.

A faint puff of displaced air was the only sign she’d ever been there.

The Werefur stumbled, its momentum throwing it off balance.

It growled in frustration, quickly bouncing back onto its feet with unnerving agility.

Its senses locked onto the curse mark it had planted on her earlier.

Spinning around, it spotted Emi again, standing calmly just behind it, as if taunting the beast.

Letting out a feral roar, the Werefur charged at her once more, but the result was the same.

Emi’s form flickered out of existence just as its claws grazed the air where she had stood.

The Werefur skidded to a stop, disoriented but undeterred.

Again and again, it lunged, each time faster and more reckless, only to find its prey slipping through its grasp by a hair’s breadth.

Emi’s movements were fluid and unyielding, her family’s ninja arts allowing her to outmaneuver the berserk Werefur curse slave with grace.

Her expression was calm, even as the beast’s claws swiped dangerously close.

She was a step ahead every time, her figure reappearing just out of reach keeping it hooked while mocking its primal rage.

Meanwhile, Ace adjusted his aim, his sharp eyes tracking the chaotic movements below.

His finger rested lightly on the trigger, his breathing measured and deliberate.

“Damn that thing is fast,” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening as he watched the Werefur curse slave relentlessly pursue Emi.

Dame Wasp reported to him with his innate curse art status screen.

[Master, the rail rifle’s power chamber is fully charged.] The Werefur was fast-blindingly so-but Emi was faster, her nimble movements keeping her just out of reach.

Yet, her speed only complicated Ace’s shot.

Every time he thought he had a clear angle at the creature’s heart, it twisted, lunged, or Emi shifted to another spot, forcing him to recalibrate.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm, putting his faith in the Apex earring’s effect.

It sharpened his focus and filled him with the steady confidence of countless battles he had never fought but somehow knew.

His mind worked like a machine, calculating the exact moment to fire.

The chaos below seemed to slow, and Ace saw his chance.

He squeezed the trigger.

The rail rifle jolted against his shoulder with a satisfying thrum, releasing a streak of light that cut through the air like a lightning bolt.

The mischief bullet tore through the Werefur’s back, its speed so intense that it exited cleanly through the center of its chest in the blink of an eye.

The Werefur froze mid-lunge, a guttural roar stuck in its throat.

Its body trembled as the cursed energy within it began to destabilize, and dark mist seeped from the gaping wound.

Ace lowered the rifle slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, his lips curling into a grim smirk as he watched the creature falter.