Chapter 138
Chapter 138
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.34 – The Knight Wields the Switch (2)
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Divine power.
It was one of the 'first mysteries' bestowed by the gods.
From ancient civilizations to the present day, it held supreme influence in the western and eastern continents: the Sun God and Moon Goddess, who still commanded the greatest sway; the Sea God and Earth God, now relegated to obscure old hermits but with a scant few believers remaining; the Sky God, and so on.
These ancient deities had first granted humanity a flame known as divine power. The more devout the faith of their followers, the mightier this mystery grew.
Thus, most ancient nations were theocracies.
They expanded their territories, cultivated agrarian societies, and built the foundations of their states upon this divine power. But as cases of abusing it for personal wealth and authority proliferated, the theocracies decayed.
Those who judged the defilers of the gods' names and the exploiters of divine glory for their own gain came to be called the first inquisitors, the [Heresy Inquisitors].
Legend held that these first heresy inquisitors wielded divine power as naturally as their own limbs. Only later was it realized that their methods resembled the principles of magic or fighting techniques.
Yet even more convenient and powerful than those was a method that boasted overwhelming superiority even in the modern era.
Sacred arts.
A combat style using divine power, said to have been created by some wandering monk. But no matter how convenient, it had its limits.
-Sacred arts are ultimately just a shortcut. To truly grow strong, one must embed divine power in the body and train diligently, not rely on sacred arts.
This too was a quote from the wandering monk.
Convenient as they were, sacred arts were mere shortcuts using divine power, incapable of overcoming the 'real' thing.
Yet even after hundreds, no, thousands of years, sacred arts remained one of the temples' greatest powers, the signature combat style of heresy inquisitors, and had continued evolving ceaselessly over those millennia. If the creator witnessed them now, he would surely retract his words.
Such was the inquisitors' immense confidence in their sacred arts.
...And it was the same even now.
"-We've been had. Prepare the Grand Sacred Arts immediately!"
"Understood!"
The moment they saw their comrade combat priest fall to the knight so effortlessly, the heresy inquisitors swiftly reformed their ranks.
He wasn't someone who could be taken down so easily—it had happened in an instant. This meant the knight's skill far exceeded their predictions.
So.
"Just give him the treatment he deserves."
Grand Sacred Arts required at least thirty people to activate, but each inquisitor could handle the workload of ten priests. Nine of them were more than enough, and so they chanted.
"[Bestow the iron mace upon the heretic.]"
The Blessing of the Iron Mace.
Originally a grand sacred art used to subdue violent, massive monsters like wyverns or drakes.
Also known as [Earth's Trap] and the like.
And sure enough.
Ku-gu-gu-gung!
Activating the sacred art unleashed tremendous pressure crashing down upon the earth.
Rocks crumbled like sand, trees snapped like weeds.
It was a sacred art that overwhelmed the entire area with a massive iron mace falling from the skies. Even a knight commander-level expert couldn't escape it by common sense, nor could it be broken...
"-Man, this is quite the workout?"
"......"
"Look at that muscle burn? Hmm, how long does this last? Two hours at least?"
"Wh-what...?!"
"Answer me, you rude bastard."
Pu-ak!
"!!!"
In an instant, one of the priests maintaining the sacred art had his jaw turned, slamming his head into the ground.
It happened in a split second, shocking the commanding priest. What in the world...
Pu-ak!
Kwa-jik!
Ku-ung!!
But the astonishing sequence didn't end there. Priests maintaining the sacred art were struck by inexplicable blows and smashed into the dirt one after another.
"Y-you bastard! What did you do!!"
"Mountain Smash Fist."
"...What?"
"If you don't know, take the hit."
Kwa-jik!!
As if annoyed by the priest's incessant squealing, the knight delivered a special punch. A perfect fist imprint cratered the center of the priest's face.
A strike on another dimension entirely.
"It's the Hundred-Step Divine Fist."
Thud...
The priest collapsed without mounting a proper defense.
Pa-at!
Having felled the annoying ones ahead, Lee Han spotted two priests still moving, lunging at him from both sides with incredible acceleration.
They swung their awls to stab.
Thick killing intent emanated from them, and Lee Han simply...
...let them hit.
"?"
"??"
He took the awls head-on. But they didn't pierce his skin at all.
As if blocked by a wall.
"H-how, with the Blessing of Penetration...?"
"You think I'd answer that?"
Kwa-deuk!
Lee Han casually snapped their wrists.
They twisted in impossible directions, eyes bulging.
"Wow, you guys are tougher than those other clowns?"
They weren't screaming, so they seemed pretty resilient.
Thus.
Pu-uk!
"Since you handle pain well, try enduring this too."
Kwa-deu-deu-deuk!!
"!!!!?!!!!"
Muscle-Tearing Bone-Breaker.
Originally just a torture method, rarely used as an attack in wuxia tales, but Lee Han wielded it offensively.
His deep understanding of muscles and bones, combined with exceptional senses, had been refined for real combat.
The pain was milder than full torture—maybe half the intensity—but still excruciating.
Huuuuk!
While admiring his handiwork, Lee Han spotted an incoming projectile.
An arrow.
A gift from the sniper who'd been firing killing shots from 1.5 km away, flying straight at him.
As if the arrow had a will of its own. Lee Han observed it curiously, then...
Thwuk!
He kicked a pebble like a soccer ball.
The casual flick looked playful, but the pebble carried devastating power.
Impossibly heavy...
Pu-hwa-aak!
And destructively so.
Single Point Spear? No, with a pebble—'Single Point Stone Throw'?
The arrow shattered midair, and Lee Han placed a hand on a tree trunk.
Kwa-jik!
The tree ripped right out.
Not a flower, yet it came up so easily? But Lee Han's strength had surpassed mortal limits. To overpower him physically, they'd need at least a millennium-old troll or ogre.
Ta-ak.
Lee Han assumed position.
Spear-throwing stance.
Huuuuk!
Using his body as a spring, he accelerated with a run-up, channeling full power into the tree.
Accuracy wasn't guaranteed, but if it hit the ground, the area would be devastated—no escaping unscathed.
Pu-hwa-aak!!
Not some fancy Single Point Spear—just hurling a tree.
Yet its power and speed dwarfed the arrow. In an instant.
─Kwang!!
It exploded like a bomb far in the distance.
"...Think I hit?"
Who knew, really.
Just a gut throw.
In that moment.
"...Even ignoring the Blessing of True Strike. Truly unreasonable strength. Even if you weren't a heretic, this power looks like heretical sorcery."
"You're the last one. Figured the familiar presence was you."
"......"
"I let you off once, didn't expect a second chance, right?"
"I wouldn't be that shameless."
"Good to know."
"......"
"Ah, you can pull that out."
"You knew?"
"With that gunpowder stench wafting everywhere, how could I not?"
"...I see."
Click.
The priest from the night before, with his bible and small bell. He drew a revolver from his bible and fired.
Ta-ang!
In this world, guns were mostly muskets invented for noble hunts—not common combat tools.
They didn't work well on monsters anyway, and if intelligent beasts got hold of them, disaster would follow. Plus, fears of peasant uprisings stifled gun development and proliferation.
Tang!
But slow spread didn't mean sloppy research.
Kwa-aang!!
Even this mere revolver packed serious punch.
Anti-materiel sniper-level destruction.
Even with Indestructible Training, a hit wouldn't leave him unscathed.
Physics-defying power from a revolver.
Probably sacred arts-enhanced or custom-made.
Huwuk!
But Lee Han read the bullet's trajectory and dodged instantly.
A trained knight's eyes reacted to bullets.
Just close in and subdue him, right? But then.
Pu-ak!!
"?"
"Still no good barehanded."
"...No, keep going."
"......"
"I won't kill you, so continue."
"...Mm."
The opponent's fist—no, martial arts—were top-tier.
A mix of joint locks and strikes. Something like...
'Systema?'
Ho!
Another surprise, drawing involuntary admiration.
Never expected to see this here.
Seeing it, he recalled.
'[Gun-Art], was it?'
A martial art blending guns and combat.
Common in gun-fu movies. Mastering both made it devastating.
Here, the gun was the scary part.
Tang! Ta-ang! Ta-aaang!!
The priest wasn't just skilled in martial arts—his marksmanship was elite too.
Sacred arts tamed the revolver's recoil; no wavering, great accuracy.
"Why do the bullets keep coming?"
"Sacred arts."
"Wow, that's cheating."
"......"
"What's that look?"
"Not words I expected from you."
"?"
Absurd, but only briefly.
Lee Han engaged more fully.
Matching power conservatively, pure hand-to-hand.
He could end it anytime.
'This guy's not bad.'
Refreshing.
Beyond technique, the gun-integrated fighting sparked interest, tempting a longer bout.
Thus.
"One hour."
"?"
"Hold out an hour, and you're free."
"??"
His cryptic words baffled the priest, but after 30 minutes...
"...So that's what you meant..."
Hudu-duk!
Sweat poured like rain; his body trembled.
One hour.
Realizing it meant sparing him after a full hour, the priest shook—his stamina near collapse.
Yet he persisted.
"You can do it. Get up, you gutless punk."
"......Are you human?"
Not a drop of sweat, breath steady as ever.
"Come on, you got this!"
"...Isn't cheering for the enemy a bit much?"
"Were you my enemy?"
"......"
"Thought you were just clowns performing."
"......More humiliating than being called vermin."
Priest Pierre realized.
From the start, they were mere toys to this knight—not even enemies.
Awaking to that.
Click.
"Better to die."
Pierre pressed the barrel to his forehead and pulled the trigger.
As if death would settle all.
...Except.
"Nope."
"......"
"Where you going?"
"......"
The fired bullet spun between his thumb and index finger. Pierre was speechless.
And Lee Han.
"This guy's got skill and talent, but his head's rotten? What kind of idiot is this!"
Fury erupted like a dragon's reverse scale. He snatched a stick from the dirt.
A shabby wooden rod, but in his grip, it brimmed with vitality, hard as iron.
"You rotten-headed bastard! Exactly a thousand lashes—!"
"......"
"Down."
"What?"
"Prone position, you rotten-brained fuck!!"
Ignoring protests, Lee Han swung relentlessly...
Pu-eeee-ak!
...and Pierre's mind flew away.
......After passing out, water revived him; near death, potions poured; exhausted, fed rice. The switch never stopped.
Endlessly...
Pierre fainted repeatedly from unrelenting agony, waking each time to the rod.
Like hell's eternal loop...
Over four days, beaten, Pierre thought.
......This knight annoyingly honored his word.
A thousand.
True to promise, exactly a thousand over four days.
How'd he know?
"Assistant, how many left on this punk?"
"Uh, up to 480 so far?"
"Sure about the count?"
"You marked it on the board."
"Too many to beat, got mixed up."
"Y-yeah, could happen."
"Ah, he's up. Just 520 more. Assistant, count precisely."
"Yees......"
......Kindly announced remaining lashes each revival.