Chapter 174
Chapter 174
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Episode 40: Knights' Spring (8)
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...On the surface, he seemed utterly ordinary.
A brown-haired pretty boy who didn't even look like he'd hit puberty yet was smiling brightly and refreshingly.
If he'd been born in Lee Han's previous world, he probably could've become a popular idol or actor just based on his looks.
However, the two men didn't even have a moment to scrutinize the boy's face.
He wasn't exuding any extraordinary aura like an archmage might—his presence was just plain and ordinary—but the two knights knew that this mage had his energy 'completely under control,' not letting even a hint leak out.
And unintentionally, Lee Han had encountered two others who could fully master their own energy like this.
One was the old man playing butler, and the other was the uncle who lounged around like a slacker in the knight order.
Both appeared perfectly ordinary at a glance, but Lee Han knew better.
He knew just how monstrous those two old men truly were.
In martial world terms, it was realms like "Returning to Simplicity" or "Pure Blue Furnace Fire."
Humans who hid all traces of their power, living like spiritual beings.
No, not 'like' spiritual beings—they'd actually become them.
And now, this boy was the same.
The complete absence of any detectable energy made him all the more terrifying, leaving no room for even the thought of resistance.
A superhuman.
A transcendent being who surpassed human limits, emerging only once in thousands—no, hundreds of millions.
A being who had broken through all boundaries yet somehow retained a human form.
Fight that thing?
That was no longer even a possibility.
So Lee Han and Lark...
Whoosh!
...turned tail without hesitation and bolted at full speed.
The knights, capable of bursts up to 200 km/h, vanished from the spot in an instant as they fled at maximum velocity.
The faster they ran, the quicker they got, putting distance between themselves and the mage tower in a flash until it shrank to a mere speck.
It was undeniable proof of just how fast and desperately they'd run, but...
"-Nah, that's no good."
[Snap!]
"..."
"..."
...The two knights, who had fled dozens of kilometers from the mage tower, suddenly found themselves 'back at the mage tower's location.'
As if their escape had never happened.
"...Teleportation?"
"Spatial severance too."
But instead of panicking, the knights analyzed what had happened to them and quickly caught their breath.
And then.
"How far did we make it?"
"Roughly nine miles radius."
"Damn miles!"
"...Why are you mad?"
There was a slight terminology hiccup, but they gauged the approximate distance and turned their eyes back to the boy—no, the 400-year-old 'ancient monster'—who had dragged them here.
"How far do we need to run to escape that spatial magic's range?"
"Hm, you're asking me?"
"Doesn't matter if you don't answer."
"...Haha!"
Tur de Seigan burst into sudden, cheerful laughter.
"Fine! I'll tell you! As long as you're within about 100 km radius, my spatial magic can reach anywhere. So no escaping? Unless you move at light speed."
"...I see."
Lee Han nodded deeply.
As if acknowledging there wasn't a shred of lie in those words.
Lee Han usually harbored extreme disgust toward spellcasters and never believed a word they said, no matter what—but right now, he did.
Because this guy wasn't some ordinary spellcaster. He was a 'superhuman.'
Having dealt with plenty of his share of superhumans, Lee Han understood their psychology and mental state well. They didn't lie easily.
Why so certain?
Simple.
'No need to lie when they can do anything they set their minds to. Why would they bother?'
People who wielded not political power or wealth, but pure 'strength.'
Yet that overwhelming power was their proof of authority and riches.
Why would someone who could rule the world spit out petty falsehoods?
This was no different.
A man who could do anything.
"Hey, let's chat a bit. I'm super curious about you guys!"
"......"
"You'd like that too, right?"
It was a one-sided 'announcement' with no choice given.
An utterly infuriating one...
[Hold on, Tower Lord! We must punish them right now—talk? What nonsense is that?!]
[Has senility finally set in, Tower Lord?!]
[This won't do!]
[Urgh!]
The archmages vented their frustrations.
Of the original five archmages in the mage tower, one was dead, another writhed in agony with their chest sliced open, and yet another unleashed rage with a missing arm.
And that wasn't all?
[Look at our fallen comrades! Look at what they've done to the mage tower!]
Numerous mages had perished.
All because these intruders had wrecked the tower and attacked them.
Of course, plenty of mages still lived, and rebuilding the tower was entirely feasible.
As long as the Tower Lord remained.
But that was that, and the damage was still damage.
These intruders deserved judgment, and that was the exemplary stance the tower's leader should demonstrate.
...It was undoubtedly the rational, common-sense course.
"-Are you giving me orders right now?"
[............]
"You've grown bold? Showing dissatisfaction toward me, heh."
[...S-Sorry.]
"No, it's fine. These things happen."
[......]
"Haha."
...The mages heard the boy's fresh, mischievous laughter, but it brought them no warmth.
On the contrary, their faces paled, and they bowed their heads deeply.
They'd forgotten, after not seeing his face for so long.
Who he was...
The Tower Lord was...
"...If you're going to apologize, why show dissatisfaction in the first place? You hurt my feelings—."
Rumble!
The Tower Lord was the mage tower's supreme madman, acting entirely on whims.
[Urgh!]
[T-Tower Lord! W-We spoke out of turn! P-Please spare us!]
[S-Sorry, so sorry...]
[Aaaagh!]
It wasn't mana that crushed them.
It was his 'will.'
The mere thought of displeasure turned his gaze into an oppressive assault.
If he willed death, they died. If destruction, it happened.
One must never provoke him.
No matter that they were called archmages.
Like prey before a predator, the mages averted their eyes.
Too terrified to even meet his gaze...
"Pathetic, really."
Ha!
The boy laughed cheerfully, as if he'd never been angry.
Fresh and vibrant once more.
And then.
"That's why you guys are so fascinating!"
His eyes sparkled toward the knights.
The two who remained unscathed despite exposure to his will.
The knights, now the focus of his interest, merely...
"What the hell's this kid saying?"
"No idea. Brain must've rotted from living too long."
"Ah, makes sense."
...Shot him blatantly irreverent looks that screamed 'what a lunatic.'
"Puhahaha!"
The boy roared with laughter.
As if it might split his sides.
He even tumbled through the air effortlessly, showing no displeasure at their insulting words.
...As if some screw was loose—or as the spear-wielding knight put it, something had clearly broken.
But the boy, Tur de Seigan, would claim this:
That he wasn't mad—he simply had an insatiable curiosity.
That he was merely engrossed in this novel freshness, like now.
"Hey, you know what?"
Suddenly stopping his laughter, he monologued at them one-sidedly.
"Your power... it's no different from those old geezers over there. No, in terms of total energy volume, those old farts probably have more."
Old geezers... that's what he called the archmages, neatly summing up the knights' and archmages' power levels.
"I've seen warriors as strong as you sometimes. The ones commonly called [heroes] or [demons]. A few of them are decent. As strong as you, or even stronger."
Yeah, they popped up occasionally.
Those with 'energy' rivaling archmages.
Not mana.
The [aura] invisible to ordinary eyes.
Or the power called life force.
Knights called it battle aura or whatever, but he preferred 'aura.'
In that sense, these two knights' auras were slightly inferior to the archmages.
Of course—who could compare young pups to those who'd lived at least a century?
Compare apples to apples.
...However, though their total aura was lesser, they possessed a certain 'special quality' even the archmages lacked.
The special quality that occasionally etched [heroes] or [demons] into 'history.'
None other than,
"But... heroes who've 'tempered their souls' like you? They're rare."
...The [strength of the soul].
"Those who stake their lives repeatedly in battle or training, or survive immense trials. Even against heroes or demons of the same level, they show a vast gap and claim victory. Like how you overwhelmed those old geezers and the mage tower."
To be clear, the mage tower wasn't weak.
As he said, plenty had energy totals matching the knights'.
Not just the twelve bronze giants and five archmages.
There were 'six more' besides.
However...
"Even if those hidden six stepped up, they couldn't beat you. Your strength isn't decided by energy alone. You know how to 'overcome' and how to 'win.' So our guys can't beat you—it's inevitable."
The boy admitted it readily.
That the mage tower couldn't win against them.
Yet he didn't seem particularly upset.
He didn't even care about the mages who'd died.
Nor did the tower's destruction bother him.
To him, it was all 'trivial matters, natural processes.'
But there was one thing the boy couldn't tolerate.
This incurable disease he'd carried since long ago—and it was precisely this disease that had propelled him to greatness.
Thus, unleashing his curiosity, he asked the two knights with strong souls who piqued his interest:
"Hey... mind if I dissect your bodies and souls? So, can I get permission?"
'The disease of unrestrained desire'—that was Tur de Seigan's incurable affliction.
"Oh, doesn't matter if you don't give permission. I'll do it anyway, so sorry in advance."
"......"
"Ahaha!"
The boy laughed merrily.
As if discovering a thrilling [rare material] was the greatest joy.
"—You done yapping?"
"...Huh?"
"You done yapping, you little punk?"
"......"
"Talks to himself way too damn much." Crack, pop! Lee Han stretched his body. Thanks to the punk's solo rambling, his body had recovered somewhat—and the same went for Spear Guy, no, Lark. Pshk! Lee Han immediately pulled out two potions and injected them straight into his veins like syringes. Potion doping. He was pulling the same crazy stunt from yesterday's fight with the Demon King. There'd be side effects, sure. But even so.
"You got nothing?"
"...Classic method."
"Oh."
In a fight for survival, what wouldn't one do to win? Gulp! Lark popped out what looked like pills and swallowed them. All five at once.
"...That's dangerous."
"Only you get to do it?"
They looked risky even singly, but downing five? This guy hated losing just as much. Lee Han approved. 'Right—this ain't a sport.' Doping was illegal in sports. It violated sportsmanship. But what they were doing had no rules or unspoken codes like sports. It was pure battle: the living slaying the dead, and vice versa. No such thing as cheap shots or fouls. And so...
"Let's see who ends up dissected, you damn spellcaster."
The two knights joined forces at this moment. History proved that ganging up was the orthodox way to face the strong.
Failure meant death. Success meant survival.
And in the knights' minds, failure had never been an option to begin with.