Chapter 175
Chapter 175
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.41 – Until the Heart Beats (1)
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The battle's commencement was heralded by Lee Han's lion's roar.
[━━!]
Whoooosh-!
The roar's majestic resonance momentarily hurled even the blizzard skyward, more intense and thunderous than any Lee Han had ever unleashed.
Other mages didn't merely suffer ruptured eardrums; they endured hammer-like blows to the skull, with many collapsing unconscious in droves.
Such was the might of a lion's roar at maximum volume.
But.
"Why reject my offer? I just can't understand..."
Tyr remained utterly serene despite taking the roar head-on, casually flicking his wrist.
"I'd dissect you without a hint of pain, so why go out of your way to suffer?"
Krunch!
With every flick of Tyr's hand, the earth cracked open, winds split apart, and assaults rained down on Lee Han and Lark.
Ruuuuumble!
An immense mass bore down upon them.
No way to dodge this.
The pressure assailed them from all directions, crushing them with insane force.
"'Perspective Manipulation.' It lets me control the three-dimensional space within my field of vision. Pretty amusing, right?"
Ruuuuumble!!
Tyr was considerate, even kindly explaining the nature of their torment.
Perspective.
In simple terms, it encompassed the entirety of space within one's line of sight, and manipulating it was tantamount to turning imagination into reality.
Everyone has, at some point, reached out to grasp or poke at a distant mountain or cloud they knew they couldn't touch, only to recognize the futility of the act.
Yet this impossible feat.
"Here comes a sideways strike."
Tyr made it possible.
For a man wielding mana vast as the ocean and over four centuries of exhaustive magical research, magic was no longer confined to spell incantations.
As long as he willed it, Tyr's imagination invariably became reality.
That was his very 'magic.'
To any onlooker, it was a miraculous spectacle indistinguishable from a god's descent...
Slash!
"Huh?"
Tyr soon had to prove he was no deity.
...A 'tiny scratch' marred his palm.
"No matter how monstrous, affecting the three-dimensional world requires a catalyst. High chance it's his hands or eyes functioning as such."
"Then we just slice them off."
"If we think simply... yeah, that's it."
The two knights trained their blades on the oncoming mass.
Before such an invisible, colossal force, any person might freeze in terror, succumb to despair, and abandon all hope—but surrender had no place in these knights' lexicon.
Instead, they lunged at the encroaching mass, thrusting swords and spears.
"...What fascinating test subjects."
Tyr seemed more intrigued by their defiance than the scratch on his palm.
Most encountering this for the first time simply gave up, but warriors with tempered souls were a different breed.
To counterattack, no less...
Observing this,
"Can you endure this one too?"
Whoosh!
Tyr moved to clap his palms together.
Within his field of vision lay the knights; evade or not, they'd be pulverized like ants.
Escape was impossible, of course.
He'd laced the surroundings of his sightline with traps.
Dodging would bring its own...
-Halt.
"...What?"
Tyr blinked.
Grind!
"You blocked it?"
Tyr's palms failed to connect.
No, they couldn't connect.
An unnatural resistance halted his clap.
"Grrrrrgh-!"
Lee Han—with raw strength—held back Tyr's clap.
Creak!
Doping's power was truly formidable.
To put it simply, he'd withstood the pressure of a massive hydraulic press through sheer force.
Yet Lee Han wasn't content merely to endure.
Right then...
Grip!
He unleashed his maximum grip strength.
"...Wow."
Not just a scratch now marred Tyr's palm; flesh began gouging out, and in intrigued experimentation, Tyr clenched his fist tight.
Thud!
And smashed it down.
Equivalent to a boulder plummeting from overhead, yet once more.
Krunch!
"Blocked that too?"
Lee Han crossed both arms to parry the blow.
The ground heaved violently, forming a crater-like depression, and something in Lee Han's knees and ankles tore audibly—but he'd blocked it.
Tyr felt wonder.
He shouldn't have sustained injury so easily, but a warrior pitting strength against Perspective Manipulation was a first in his four-century life.
Refreshing.
That was Tyr's impression, his interest surging.
"What about this?"
Tyr flailed fists and hands wildly.
Sometimes swinging fists or palms, other times blowing gales with mere breath.
Or clenching fists like grips, exhaling fierce winds.
Crack!
Boom!
Each time, the earth quaked, the ground threatening to crumble.
"Aaaah!"
"R-run away...!"
"T-Tower Lord?!!"
Motions resembling mere playthings wrought cataclysmic disasters; the mages of the tower were swept up, unable to stand or vomiting blood from the shockwaves—a total pandemonium.
Yet Tyr's ears were deaf to their screams.
His focus was solely on verifying how well the test subject—no, his 'new plaything'—held up.
And sure enough.
Splat!
Krunch!
Lee Han blocked it all.
Every incoming fist or palm met timely sword slashes or kicks.
Thanks to doping, even knee and ankle injuries healed rapidly; gradually, his reactions outpaced the rate of new wounds.
"─!"
One slip meant catastrophe, leaving no respite for breath as Lee Han thrashed his body to the brink of madness.
Strike, deflect, block.
His flawless execution of these three actions was 'desperate.'
"Aaaaaaah!!"
Roaring as if to fuel himself, he seemed to be testing his very limits.
Struggle.
A life-or-death struggle.
The raw desperation and ferocity pulsed through every motion; bit by bit, Lee Han advanced.
To survive, he instinctively knew he must kill Tyr, and his body responded to that will, inching forward one step at a time.
An infinitesimally small, yet monumental stride.
The distance between Tyr and Lee Han was roughly two hundred paces.
Of course, each step spilled blood and cracked bones repeatedly, but Lee Han pressed on.
An unyielding knight.
Like he knew no backward steps—like a turtle.
A surname haphazardly chosen upon his first ennoblement as a knight, yet gazing upon him now, it fit no one better.
"Puhahaha! What the hell is that!"
One might be moved to awe by Lee Han's desperation, but Tyr merely laughed.
As if sneering, 'Do you really think you'll reach me for real?'
Suddenly...
"Now I want to see you despair."
Like a cruel prankster, Tyr made a new gesture.
Swoosh.
The instant Tyr's palm mimicked scooping sand,
Ruuuuuuumble!
......The earth flipped over.
An absurd upheaval turned the world upside down, and with a casual flip of Tyr's hand.
..........!!
Lee Han's body plummeted deep into the soil, tumbling wildly.
"...Fucking monster."
Lee Han grimaced at the avalanche of earth and snow burying him.
Sploooosh!
- Earth Flip.
A horrific power utterly inconceivable for a single mage.
Yet the true horror lay in Lee Han being interred alongside the upheaval.
Not only buried under massive debris and snow, but Tyr followed up mercilessly, pounding the ground with palms and fists.
Bang! Boom!
Still not broken? Even like this-? Like a child's whimsy sating curiosity.
The initial glee at a rare specimen had evaporated; destroying it already was terror incarnate.
A perfect example of why he was dubbed the tower's supreme madman.
And so.
Spluuurt!
Drip...
"Ah, right—you were here too."
Too engrossed in one 'plaything,' Tyr had forgotten the other; blood trickling down his cheek elicited no particular reaction.
Even as it bled,
Swipe.
"All healed up?"
"......"
"Tch, what a boring reaction."
"......"
"Hm, aren't you worried your friend might've died? Getting crushed like that is usually fatal."
"...Not a friend."
"Oh? I thought you two were close."
Whoosh!
"How about a little chat..."
Ignoring Tyr's overtures entirely, Lark's spear thrusts came without pause.
If the tank had poured his soul into enduring, the dealer's role was to pierce the monster's throat.