Chapter 205
Chapter 205
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.46 - Everyone Has a Plan (2)
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A warrior who had mastered both holy arts and fighting techniques didn't simply gain the power of 1+1=2.
Holy power itself was a [mystical] force manifested through 'faith' in the gods, 'piety', and 'fervent prayer'.
Thus, the holy arts it produced were no exaggeration when called [power without cost], unlike fighting techniques that strained the body.
A tremendous strength one could grasp simply by believing in the gods!
Therefore, a knight who wielded holy arts was no mere knight—he was a knight who could wield magic as well.
In ancient times, there had even been those who called knights versed in holy arts [magic swordsmen].
Of course, calling them that in the modern era would make holy knights fly into a rage, but they were beings who possessed power distinct from other knights.
Indeed, they were existences comparable even to the Galahad Knights, the kingdom's strongest knight order.
...They certainly should have been.
Kwajik!
"Kwaaaak!"
Kuung!
"Keuheok!"
Every time the 3-meter-long whip—no, person—was swung, holy knights folded at the waist or tumbled across the ground.
But that was the better outcome; those slammed into the dirt or bleeding from their heads appeared to have suffered severe injuries.
The holy knights were learning firsthand an unwelcome truth: the human body was surprisingly sturdy and could even be used as a weapon. They were utterly helpless against it.
It wasn't that they—the holy knights—were weak.
Simply...
'M-my body feels so heavy...!'
'Why won't the holy arts work...? No, more than that, why does my body feel this heavy!?'
They couldn't exert their power as they normally would.
What was it like? As if flailing in water?
The air pressure felt abnormally heavy, and their bodies wouldn't move as they willed.
It was as uncomfortable as if iron balls were chained to their wrists and ankles, making it hard to even use holy arts like usual.
"-The holy arts you use require reciting a 'prayer' to the gods first, right?"
And the enemy revealed the reason their bodies felt heavy and they couldn't wield their holy arts freely.
...It couldn't have been a more humiliating courtesy.
"I heard that heretics inquisitors or holy knights move in groups because their comrades buy time to recite prayers, so denying them that time is the way to gain the upper hand against holy art users."
Fwoooosh!
"I was a bit skeptical at first, but it really checks out."
Equivalent exchange.
There was no such thing as power without cost in this world, nor power that was purely convenient.
Even if it was holy arts, failing to meet the conditions meant they couldn't be used—that was only natural.
"You bastard...! What the hell have you done to us!"
The holy knights cried out in anguish.
They could accept that the fiend knew holy arts well, but they couldn't comprehend how he was exerting such intense pressure on them, plunging them into sudden chaos.
However.
"Hmm, about 40 left? Plenty of you lunatics."
He offered no answer, merely swinging the whip (once a person) with indifference to attack them, and the holy knights...
Puhwaaak!
...had to splatter blood across the dirt floor once more.
'Wow, I really can't see them.'
...One correction to their misunderstanding: he truly couldn't see or hear their forms or voices right now.
For some reason—some holy art, no doubt—their sounds, appearances, and even scents were completely concealed. Unless one knew holy arts or magic, there was no way for an ordinary person to pierce it.
Thus, he simply...
'Ah, here?'
...had to gauge and strike enemies using only his 'instincts', and by coincidence...
Kwajik!
...he was succeeding in hitting them with a near-90% accuracy rate.
'Nineteenth one.'
The precise tactile feedback.
Every strike felt like the satisfying tug when reeling in a fish while angling, traveling up his fingertips.
But instincts alone couldn't reveal everything, so Lee Han resorted to a trick.
"━Ha!"
Lion's Roar.
Lee Han's imposing shout spread calmly through the forest.
This wasn't his usual eardrum-shattering roar; it was a technique for 'spreading one's presence across an area'.
'That spear punk's useful in times like this.'
A technique he'd conceived after seeing the spearman dominate space by scattering murderous intent.
He lacked the spearman's inexhaustible vast killing aura, but he had his presence, tempered and aged over long years of training.
By dispersing it throughout the forest, he could sense the presences of invisible foes and rob them of the focus to recite prayers through mental pressure.
'Can even use it like ultrasound.'
The subtle roar spread like sound waves, revealing the positions and numbers of hidden enemies.
Anyone watching might ask how he could detect echoes without being a beast, but he would simply reply...
...It just works.
Thanks to that...
Peueok!
...Lee Han could pinpoint the locations of those charging at him without hesitation.
Before long, he'd released the human whip from his hand and was pummeling them with his fists.
As he grew adept at using sound waves, tracking their movements became easy, and he jabbed at them lightly like shadowboxing.
It looked as if he were boxing alone, and his movements grew rougher.
Whoosh, whoosh!
His steps advanced ceaselessly, his punches thrusting out faster.
Peuk!
A left hook blazed through, piercing the opponent's shield to smash their face.
Kwajijik!
The next tried to block, but their shield crumpled instead as an uppercut shattered their jaw.
Kung!
A liver shot—or a body blow that showed hell with one proper hit—precisely pierced the armor, ravaging their organs.
Without the armor, the liver might have actually burst.
With such simple techniques unleashed savagely, Lee Han's fists battered the air repeatedly, and each time...
Puhwaaaak!
...blood sprayed across the ground, jawbones shattered, and sounds like internal explosions rang out in succession.
Whether they attacked with swords or spears, he smashed them; even if they focused solely on defense with shields, he crushed them.
One punch, one kill.
At some point, the presences charging at him dwindled, and Lee Han paused to dust off his hands.
"This is the power of boxing, you medieval fools."
In truth, it was the power of [my heavyweight fists], but whatever worked, right?
"How long are you gonna keep spectating?"
-......
"Talking to you. The one with the massive shield."
-!?
"You seem the strongest, so you planning to stay put until the others are down? Hmm, if you're waiting for my stamina to run out, bad news—I'm not even breaking a sweat. See?"
-!!!
Lee Han taunted the invisible foe by showing his utterly sweat-free forehead.
And sure enough.
The provocation worked; the foe's presence showed clear agitation, trying to step forward but held back by comrades.
'I see. That invisible holy art caster must be him.'
Through this exchange, Lee Han roughly guessed why the strongest presence wasn't moving.
That he might be the one casting the concealment holy art, and that he was likely a key figure.
These two pieces of intel.
Thus.
"Thanks for making it so obvious."
Lee Han toed up a fallen mace into a soccer-kick stance.
-Sun-Piercing Spear.
True to its name, it couldn't pierce the sun, but it was a spearhead that could readily skewer castle walls.
"-Everyone, evacuate now!"
Erhin bellowed the order and hefted his massive shield.
A chilling strike surged toward him, and Erhin immediately unleashed a holy art.
[Grand Holy Art - Indomitable Fortress].
A holy art said to have withstood even a great demon's assault in the past.
Normally requiring ten or more people, it was a grand holy art, but he couldn't call for aid now.
Thanks to the time his comrades had bought while falling, he barely managed to recite the prayer in time.
"Kuhuhuhuk!!"
Erhin de Loengrin.
One of the kingdom's prized prodigies, called the Swan of Loengrin.
Always composed and dignified, but in this moment, he cast aside all grace and felt like he was suffocating.
The backlash of unleashing a grand holy art alone was one thing, but his body couldn't withstand the overwhelming momentum crashing down on him.
Bloodshot eyes burst, dyeing red.
He clenched his teeth so hard his molars cracked and skin tore.
For a fleeting illusion that the human body was so frail, Erhin even blacked out for less than half a second.
Yet his will refused to break, clinging to one thought.
'Block it. Block it no matter what! It won't pierce!'
Holy arts were the power of faith.
The greater the faith, the purer the conviction in the gods, the stronger the holy arts became.
Harboring no doubt, he was certain he could block it.
He was an impenetrable fortress, just like a castle wall... -
"-Ah, so that's what you look like."
"......?"
"Damn, you look like the type who makes girls cry. But what can ya do? Both arms are gone."
"......"
"Can you regenerate arms with holy arts too? Oh, seriously asking."
"Kuhuk...!"
Erhin could give no reply.
He could only stare at his vanished shield and arms, dissolving like mist, and finally...
"Aaaaah...!"
...let out a scream of agony.
His noble swan wings—no, his faith—had long since been broken.
The fortress could not overcome the Sun-Piercing Spear.
...By the time they arrived—less than five minutes after the chaos erupted, running at full speed—the battle was already over.
"Huff, huff, huuuh."
"Ah, you're here?"
Derek and Roan had no chance to respond to their casually greeting master; the horrific scene around them drew groans.
Pasuk...
Limbs twisted unnaturally, armor shattered with blood flowing.
Even hulks with waists folded, clinging to life by a thread...
These were no third-rate thugs—they were renowned holy knights of the kingdom, all felled in near-death states.
"...Fifty holy knights..."
"......"
Precisely 52.
Seventy percent of the Holy Knights' total force, a blow tantamount to annihilation for them.
But the most absurd part was that a single person had subdued this faction.
They weren't weak by any means, so how...
"Once you block their holy arts, they're on par with those white kittens. These guys too?"
"The holy arts, sir?"
"Disappointing. Can't believe their level drops this much without holy arts. Or maybe they're so reliant on it their base skills lag?"
The young masters might be better off.
The instructor's frank assessment sounded like a restaurant review, leaving the boys dumbfounded.
But the next moment brought even greater absurdity.
"...You didn't just block the holy arts from the start. How on earth did you do it?"
"Just, like this?"
Whoosh!
...A jaw-dropping display of skill.
"......"
"See, like th—? Why the look?"
"...It's just too ridiculous. How..."
"-D-Dragon Fear!"
"?"
"I-it's you! You're Pendragon's White Lion! The power of dragon bloodline—that's why the holy arts...! Damn it! We should have been more cautious!"
"??"
The lament of Erhin, bereft of both arms.
The boys blinked, thinking this man had lost his mind.
What nonsense was he spouting?
And to him...
"Nobles and their bloodline obsession. This is why, tsk tsk."
"...Why say that to me?"
"You're a noble too?"
"......To reiterate."
Please stop with the noble phobia.
...It's scary.