Levi was restrained.
That was within Roger's expectations.
The War Hammer Titan was powerful, but killing someone as nimble and battle-hardened as Levi was unlikely; at best it could trap him, and even that took a great deal of effort.
Roger knew his stamina right now was nowhere near enough to deal with the War Hammer Titan in front of him. But sit and wait to die?
Abso-lute-ly not.
"Tours, get behind me."
Roger spoke, pulling Tours, who had been standing in front of him, to his back.
Tours was bigger than Roger. Seeing his boss trying to drag him behind, he refused no matter what.
"Boss, you can rest. I, Tours, might not be even a fraction of you, but I'm still an elite fighter of our Scorpio Group." Tours gave a simple, honest smile. "Let me go. Even if I can't hurt this Titan the way Levi can, I can at least wear it down. You saw it, Boss—this Titan's running out of steam. Snaring Levi already cost it most of its strength. If I go in with the others, we'll get results."
He glanced at Roger and added with a smile, "Even if it means dying."
"Dying?" Roger rubbed the bridge of his nose, awkward. "Tours, you misunderstand me. I might be brutal when I kill, but I'm not someone who sacrifices his men at will. Without you, Tours, there wouldn't be a Scorpio Group worth the name. So from now on…" He met Tours's eyes, embarrassed. "From now on, don't casually say the word 'die.' The Scorpio Group's name won't be built on any member's deliberate sacrifice."
"Boss…"
"No more." Roger shook his head. "If Levi has failed, then this Titan is mine to deal with."
He finished speaking and drew his blade across his palm.
Tours stared, eyes wide, heart aching a little.
But Roger was used to it. His gaze had gone numb; this kind of pain meant nothing to him.
Only…
The fight against a Colossus-class had drained too much. The stamina needed to support a transformation into the Jaw Titan was already spent.
Being able to stand upright on the top of the Wall at all was already the limit.
He wouldn't topple at the first breeze, but he had no fight left in him.
A golden glimmer rose at the cut in Roger's palm, then faded at once—so faint it was barely there at all.
"As expected… no strength left to fight?"
Roger looked lost for a heartbeat, staring at the War Hammer Titan, then up at the sky.
Right then, black markings crept out from his wound and slowly knit the flesh closed.
But…
The moment the healing finished, those black markings seemed to change their mind and began to gnaw at his palm.
"Hungry, huh? You bastard."
Roger muttered to the empty sky.
Blood welled from where the black markings chewed, dripping pat… pat… onto the stones.
Tours felt something was very wrong and shouted for Roger to stop.
"Boss?!"
Roger acted as if he didn't hear him, eyes fixed on the sky.
He didn't know what those black markings truly were, but he knew what they wanted.
His blood. His flesh.
Like a parasite, nesting inside him.
Ever since he inherited the power of the Titans, the thing had been with him, never leaving for a single moment.
It could boost his strength and speed, yes, but it would also bite back.
After many private trials and careful thought, Roger had figured out how to use it correctly.
When the power of the Titans and the power of the black markings balanced out—devouring and regeneration in equilibrium—that was his peak.
If the devouring outpaced the regeneration, the "parasite" would become hungry, and like a wolf it would start chewing his body.
Now, with his stamina shot, he couldn't call on Titan power—but the black markings had no such limit.
Only…
They demanded a sacrifice of flesh.
Roger had to cut pieces of himself off and feed them to it.
Like signing a pact with a demon—selling your soul for strength.
Roger didn't know if he could defeat the War Hammer Titan before the black markings completely consumed him, but he had no other choice.
Running or surrendering both led to death.
He had planned to wait for Erwin to push forward and support him so he could recover a little stamina, but seeing the man watching from afar… that hope was gone.
"So cunning."
Roger looked over the members of the Scorpio Group around him.
Throwing them away—sending them in to be killed one by one by the War Hammer Titan just to buy back his stamina—was a terrible bargain.
These people had been gathered with painstaking effort, bit by bit.
He couldn't bear to waste them.
And tricking Erwin into throwing his life away was impossible.
So he would go himself.
Risk or no risk, he would go.
Exhausted or not, he would go.
"Back up, Tours. I don't know what I'm about to turn into, but it'll be a monster for sure. Get some distance so I don't scare you." Roger spoke, sweat beading on his brow.
"Don't say that, Boss. I'm not leaving you." Tours said with conviction. "No one in this world compares to you. You're the only one who can lead us to something great. So what if you get strange?"
Roger chuckled.
"You give me too much credit, Tours."
"Not at all. I mean it," Tours said, guileless.
"Hah. If Nelly said that, I'd think it normal—he's a slick-tongued guy. But you saying it is normal too. And I believe you, Tours. I'm leaving the rest of the Scorpio Group in your hands." Roger closed his eyes slowly. "If anyone dies, I'll settle the account with you."
"Got it, Boss."
"Then watch closely…"
Slowly, Roger opened his eyes.
Scarlet irises rippled in pitch-black sockets—like a blood moon rising from a midnight sea.
The black markings went wild, excited, surging into him and reinforcing everything he was.
At the same time, blood began to leak from all over him—wounds without number.
"So hungry…"
Roger suddenly laughed.
A vicious laugh.
Like a wolf
starving for fresh flesh.
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