Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Ep. 38: The Knight Will Not Forgive the Golden Sun (5)
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The sword that unfolded the plum blossoms crumbled like sand.
The sword force had completely dissipated.
Not disappointing, since it belonged to that western assassin anyway.
'Not a bad level of completion.'
The Plum Blossom Sword Technique was supposed to bring overwhelming fatigue after use, but the one Lee Han had just unleashed differed from yesterday's as vastly as a chicken from a duck.
What was the difference?
'Being able to fly it is a huge difference, right?'
A subtle yet monumental advancement.
Lee Han no longer grew fatigued from using the Plum Blossom Sword Technique a few times.
...No, more precisely, he could replenish his stamina and mental energy just as quickly as he consumed it.
The reason this was possible was probably...
'Training pays off.'
If Taecheon had seen it, he'd have rattled off about protective traits like [Diamond Victory] or [Indomitable] safeguarding stamina and mental power, but Lee Han tended to ignore half of those game-like stat explanations.
He lived in the real world—his strength, stamina, and skills were fruits of effort alone, not some game mechanics.
The Plum Blossom Sword Technique was no different.
Insane training and growth since yesterday made consecutive uses possible.
Even faster and sharper than the first time!
'Roughly twenty times?'
Shiak!
Confident he could unleash the Plum Blossom Sword Technique twenty times with ease, Lee Han raised the recaptured sword and swung it once more.
A fairly decent blade, its sword force nothing to scoff at—and thus...
Hwaaak!
The scattering plum blossoms were impressive too.
Seogeok! Seogeok! Seogeok!
"!!?"
"-·-!"
"-·-·-ugh...?!"
They cried out in pain but couldn't form proper words, their tongues severed.
"You mutants too. Why cut out perfectly good tongues?"
Lee Han chided them lightly, but they had no spirit left to respond.
Whirling plum petals pierced the assassins' flesh, straight through hearts and organs alike.
Scattering bullets, plain and simple.
Penetration and slashing were the core of the Plum Blossom's power.
However.
"Still, you're not total pushovers, huh?"
Kkaddeuk!
The Plum Blossom Sword Technique was fierce, but once eyes and body adapted, it wasn't impossible to counter.
Proof that his version still had plenty of rough edges.
Still.
"Cleaned up the weaklings, so you served your purpose."
"-...!"
Over fifty foes at the start, and half shredded away.
The rest bore deep wounds or bled profusely, but none fatal. The surviving assassins glared at him with raw hostility and murderous intent.
Yet Lee Han felt oddly unthreatened.
Even against the weak, he never let his guard down—but why did they seem so...
"Why are you assassins all so damn slow?"
"!!"
Pathetic?
Pang!
The moment Lee Han kicked off the ground, he was behind them in a flash.
The Divine Arrow Flight technique flowed so naturally, as if fused with his very being.
Fruits of his labor since the tunnel fight—and now that he could wield it effortlessly...
Hwook!
Hunting assassins felt as simple as an owl snatching mice.
"-...44-·-1!"
One issuing orders, perhaps.
Realizing the vast gap with Lee Han, it barked a command, and the assassins' momentum shifted. Three charged straight at him.
And so...
Peueueong!
The charging assassins self-detonated.
Turning their own bodies into bombs.
A chilling gambit, sacrificing lives to take the foe—and with their entire forms as explosives, utterly menacing.
Stimulating Fighting Technique to detonate meant bones and flesh erupting like C4 to shred the target.
Deadlier than most bombs; even a skilled knight couldn't escape grievous injury.
That was common sense.
But.
"Ugh, what a gross feeling..."
Tak tak.
"......"
"Why do all assassins fight so filthy... Tsk!"
...Common sense only worked on those with common sense—not him.
Lee Han's body bore not a single scratch.
Just his clothes dirtied and torn.
And through the rips, his physique was...
"......How does someone even get a body like that?"
One assassin—the only one with an intact tongue—finally spoke.
An astonishing build.
Like steel, skin so miraculous it barely seemed human.
Could an ogre or troll even achieve that through muscle training?
...Who knew. First time seeing anything like it.
Made him wonder if it'd undergone illegal procedures like theirs.
"...But no procedure looks that natural?"
Forbidden arts always had a fatal flaw: drifting from human form.
Skin turning monstrous was the norm—yet no trace on him.
At this assessment, Lee Han...
"You think I'm like you lot?"
Sneered.
Illegal procedures? Please!
"I built this body pouring over twelve hours a day into physical training."
Tears and sweat to wield Divine Arrow Flight and Diamond like passives.
Dismissing that effort as some shady mod? Lee Han scowled.
"Then is this from a procedure too?"
Hwiiik!
Punched the air.
A baffling motion, no reason obvious—but then.
Peugeok!
"!!?!"
They gawked again soon enough.
Teolseok...
One assassin's head pulped like a stomped tomato—dead on impact.
Mountain-Crushing Cannon.
He'd swung wildly, but the assassin couldn't block.
Invisible fist slamming like a cannonball—how?
"Block it."
Kindly announcing, he punched the air again.
Thus.
Peugeok!
Another tomato slumped, more than enough to rattle even these brutally trained killers.
"Why can't you block when I tell you?"
Lee Han was gracious, but sadly, no takers.
Teolseok...!
The assassins were all dullahans now.
Meaning, every last one headless.
"...Tough bastards."
Seemed straightforward, but Lee Han knew better.
They'd panicked at his unfamiliar methods, making it easy.
Plum Blossom Sword Technique to start, Divine Arrow Flight and Diamond, capped with Mountain-Crushing Cannon.
Unheard-of combat style in this world—no chance to adapt.
Don't call it cowardly.
Fights don't care about fair play.
That said, the assassins weren't pushovers.
The self-explosion trick especially—disconcerting and vicious.
If it'd been anyone else...
"Hmm, nah?"
Lee Han figured the situation would've resolved even without him stepping up.
After all.
"Truly impressive, Sir Turtle. Makes our backup feel redundant."
Others were guarding too.
"...Not Tristan, then? Galahad or Lionel?"
"Galahad."
"Yeah?"
Plenty of assassins even beyond those Lee Han handled.
This tanned lunatic must have cash to burn—hired a whole truckload.
Lee Han only blocked the east, ignoring the rest since he sensed others protecting the kids.
West signatures felt like Tristan.
Familiar presences.
So the strangers sealing the other directions...
"Ah, looks familiar now. One of the black-masked guys from when the mage chick Irene moved next door, right?"
"...You still remember that?"
"Memory's crap for faces, but my body remembers vibes. Call it muscle memory for auras."
"Impressive..."
Galahad's shadows.
First time in half a year, since Irene Windler became his neighbor.
"Fought pointlessly... You guys were here; I didn't need to."
Tristan and Galahad.
Guards dispatched for the bear cub and mage chick, no doubt.
Did their jobs right.
'What're the White Cat crew doing?'
Other houses jumping at shadows like this, but Pendragon...
'Aigoo, embarrassing. What're you up to, sis?'
His princess sis wasn't incompetent; she'd anticipate something like this.
Still.
Awkward.
Like it or not, it was his workplace.
"Haha, not pointless. The ones you took were the elite assassins. Without you, heavy casualties or breached defenses."
"No need to butter me up..."
"Just facts. Fitting for the man who chewed out the Duke."
"...You were there too?"
"Thought it was badass, personally."
"......Witness to my dark history."
Lee Han gave a wry smile.
His black mark—boldly dressing down a duke—spotted by an audience member...
But the Galahad knight grinned cheerfully.
"Haha, you're the only one calling it a dark history, Sir Turtle. We call you the Loyal Brave."
"Loyal Brave...?"
"Short for 'the brave soul who spares no loyal counsel.' Scolding His Grace? Achievement no one's matched since the late War God. Ahaha!"
"Umm..."
One hell of an awkward moniker.
'Insult or compliment?'
Lee Han scratched his cheek, but their friendly approach suggested Galahad's men didn't hold it against him.
Whatever.
"...Though that one's got it out for me."
Couldn't win 'em all.
─Kwajik!
A spear impaled the remaining ten assassins in one go.
The archetypal spear—plain, basic, embodying "spear."
Yet in the thrust, it became a destructive ballista, piercing anything.
Spear art that drew involuntary awe; if there was a perfect "stab," this was it—had to admit it.
Flawless.
And the knight behind that flawless stab? A face Lee Han recognized.
"Stabs like art, but personality's a trainwreck."
"...Haha."
The Galahad knight just laughed.
Moment too hilarious.
Even their sub-commander, who'd watched his fight moments ago...
- Hmph, rough around the edges, but punches are top-class.
Grudging respect laced with shade.
The knight mused.
Talented folks...
'Birds of a feather?'
What a bunch of characters.