Chapter 315
Chapter 315
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP. 66 – Night with the Knights and the Campfire (5)
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The three men's conversation through their bodies, laced with 'sparring', continued for a while longer until it reached a turning point at some moment.
Thud!
"...Hoo."
"......"
"Heh heh, more fun than battling that so-called God of War."
Their clashes began resulting in [draws].
Not just in one-on-one bouts, but even in two-on-one matchups, they ended in draws.
Even when two ganged up on Lee Han, they couldn't overwhelm him.
Conversely, when the other two teamed up against Rack, they failed to overpower him, and the same went for ganging up on Maximus.
This wasn't due to clumsy teamwork mistakes.
It was because each possessed skills so exceptional that no one could claim superiority.
Because they had the resilience to overcome two-on-one odds and extraordinary adaptability.
A few exchanges were now enough to ensure none could definitively dominate the others.
If they'd resolved to subdue an opponent or fought with life-or-death stakes, suppression might have been possible somehow, but they weren't truly fighting.
It was merely a 'conversation' all along.
Thus...
"Feels like I'm a performing bear."
"Let's call it."
"Just as the fun's ramping up, we end it here?"
Their sparring-cum-conversation concluded abruptly, just as suddenly as it had begun.
Splatter...!
The three men shed sweat like rain.
It was a rare sight.
For men of steel-like stamina to sweat this much from just an hour of breathless sparring.
It wasn't fatigue from the exertion itself, but from the massive drain—over ten times normal—spent meticulously controlling their power.
Any lapse in tension would have unleashed an instinctive full-force strike.
Aware that bloodlust could surge at any moment, they'd exerted utmost restraint to suppress each other. A single sincere move could have...
'Killed one of us for sure.'
Whoever it was, they'd be Avalon-bound that day.
Their powers were that evenly matched and lethal.
And Lee Han, having clashed fists with these monstrous foes, realized it through the impacts.
'They've awakened their intents too.'
That they'd hatched from their shells.
That they'd pioneered the new realm of intent.
And each one's was honed to an edge sharp enough to boast of its extraordinariness.
'No wonder they overwhelmed Ninsburg.'
Drawing from past encounters and these collisions, Lee Han could predict the intents they'd reached.
Truly...
"You guys chose some seriously tricky paths, huh?"
He suspected they'd chosen paths like his own.
"What do you mean?"
"Hm?"
"You're striving for perfection, and you've erased your limits? Neither's a normal intent."
"...Sharp as ever."
"You saw through it?"
The two men's eyes widened slightly in mild surprise at his words.
But Lee Han just smirked at their reactions.
"How could I not?"
They'd shown it plainly.
Rack de Duron—that guy was probably the most balanced knight Lee Han knew.
A knight flawless in every aspect.
Talent, effort, technique, physical prowess—all in perfect harmony, a true all-master.
Aware of his strengths better than anyone, he'd pursue perfection.
Utmost perfection.
Thus, Lee Han would define Rack's intent as:
-[Seamless as Heaven's Robe].
An intent advancing toward perfection.
One only a talent mocking the heavens themselves could aspire to.
'The other guy's the opposite...'
Maximus, a knight with a one-in-ten-million—or perhaps one-in-a-hundred-million—thrilling physique.
The only one who'd made Lee Han feel inferior in raw physicality, akin to a real Hercules or Xiang Yu.
Without the Aura User realm, he'd be dubbed a superhuman.
Yet this man with heaven-granted flesh wasn't content; he pushed himself further.
Dissatisfied with his flawless body, he eyed even higher.
An insatiable greed, touching the paradox that nothing in the world is truly perfect.
In essence:
-[Boundless Realm].
Endless growth.
An intent rejecting completion, demanding growth even after maturity.
'The gifted always want more.'
Lee Han scoffed inwardly at their greed as he contemplated their intents.
Maximizing innate gifts while hungering for beyond—intents permitted only to the extraordinarily blessed.
"What greedy bastards."
Lee Han finally clicked his tongue.
Imagining the prowess upon completion sent chills down his spine.
...But at his reaction:
"...Pot, meet kettle."
"You're one to talk."
The two men didn't hide their awkwardness.
As if asking where he'd sold his conscience.
"What about me?"
"Your intent neither shatters nor crumbles, right?"
"Looks like even organs, vessels, and blood are indestructible. Internal attacks won't work—you've stepped beyond humanity."
"Come on, that's just conscientious. What's the big deal?"
"......"
"......"
Indestructible. The name of Lee Han's intent, merely establishing the concept of unbreakability.
Sword Duke had pompously named it Unbreakable, but it was just superficially grand; honestly, nothing special.
Simply tougher—no great significance there.
"...Now I see you've sold your conscience to goblins, you rogue."
"Even northern barbarians seem less brazen than you."
"??"
...Why?
'Doesn't he know what his own intent really is?'
'An intent that even dismantles mysteries.'
Just as Lee Han had discerned theirs through fists, they'd gleaned his intent in detail during the clashes.
No, they couldn't have missed it.
'My punching fist hurts.'
'Techniques don't work either?'
Indestructible, was it?
That intent clearly eradicated every human 'weakness'.
Vital points and joints humans should have—gone.
Further, reversing the pulverizing mystery of Heaven's Bull suggested even germs or poisons couldn't threaten him.
...Maybe even beat cancer?
His body neither crumbled nor broke.
This paradox meant 'nothing penetrates'.
Undoubtedly, his intent outshone theirs, at least by a notch.
'Beats even mysteries, so curses and magic won't touch him.'
'I couldn't match that.'
Deceptively simple, yet that simplicity made it harder.
The prerequisites were absurd.
Master Indestructible Training to steel-like hardness.
Possess a fairy-blessed impurity-free body.
Undergo tempering—shatter and break tens of thousands of times.
In short:
'How's he even alive?'
'Not pure human—half-troll, ogre? ...Half-bloods were just legend.'
Simple, but the path was so grueling, death wouldn't surprise.
Thus, to them, Lee Han seemed zombie-like or a legendary half-blood.
Anything less didn't make sense.
And so, unbeknownst to all, the Status Window Boy's mutant hypothesis notched another win.
Squelch...
Precisely 63 miles (about 100 km) from Wales, in some forest depths.
While Wales celebrated victory and return with lights blazing all night, this eerie forest was pitch-black despite the unset sun.
Then, shattering the subdued mood, the ground squelched with unnatural motion.
Like blisters forming in a grassy puddle, one suddenly appeared—and pulsed.
It evoked a larva pupating into a butterfly.
And sure enough.
Rip!
From the squelching grass blister—no, grass cocoon—an arm protruded.
Riiiip!
A human arm.
Once one arm emerged, it was easy.
The other followed, then head and lower body slowly extricated.
"Pha!"
Yes, a person emerged from the cocoon.
"Cough, hack! Damn sorcerers—why plant a spare body here of all places? Truly vile..."
The woman spat reagents incessantly, displeased.
The massive volume encasing the spare body was foul beyond words.
Inducing endless retching.
But soon after:
"Whew... Still alive, though."
Her crimson eyes gleamed as she grinned wickedly.
Revival was unpleasant, but survival mattered more.
Hummm!
Suddenly, clothes formed on her nude body.
Made from blood drained from nearby beasts, the feel was off-putting.
"Better than naked."
She muttered to herself incessantly—an essential process.
To confirm soul settlement and prevent contamination from silence.
Of course, for a high-rank vampire like her, it was hardly necessary.
'But risks remain.'
Though made from her blood, sorcerers and dark mages' involvement was undeniable.
'Torn Wings—that scheming lot might tamper. Must be cautious.'
Surprisingly diligent about her body's safety, the former male sneered.
[-Mission failed, Hansel?]
"...Sorry."
[No matter. I expected difficulty. Just regrettable. A high demon's power would have helped greatly.]
"That's why I'm apologizing."
[Not reproach. Merely expressing regret.]
Before the vampire Hansel stood a beast formed of shadow at some point, and a non-reproachful reproach issued from its maw, furrowing her brow.
As if it were predictably sinister.
"If you're that regretful, why not help? Why send me alone?"
[Thought you sufficient. ...Who'd expect great noble knights swarming like that. Monsters.]
"Right? Not like I lost for nothing!"
Hansel puffed her chest, as if her defeat were inevitable.
Utterly unashamed.
[...Hm.]
Watching her bravado, the shadow sighed.
Yet still...
'Regrettable.'
It couldn't hide the disappointment.
High demons were rare in the south already—high-rank ones even more so.
'With temples destroyed, a high demon could topple the kingdom in one stroke.'
Temples had fallen to corruption, but their holy power hadn't.
Holy arts wield absolute authority against evil incarnate.
Yet now, high priests handling advanced rites had been mass-purged in the prior incident, leaving the south defenseless against demons.
Thus the bid for a high demon to blitz the kingdom...
'Failed again.'
After such preparations and efforts, the shadow felt unjustly wronged.
Failure now would be the weirder anomaly.
'The Light's will?'
The south's sole god, Light of Glory.
Feeling perpetually thwarted by that light, the shadow scowled.
Then, Hansel—who'd been inspecting her spare body—shouted.
"Oh, right! First Apostle! Got a report!"
[Report?]
"Yeah! Not anything else—I saw that kid!"
[...?]
"That child! The one you coveted for her body! She's alive!"
[......No way.]
"Yeah, No. 8! She's alive! Way stronger now!"
[......]
"First Apostle?"
[Hah...]
The shadow's true form shuddered.
Alive...?
'Thought her lifespan under ten years—still kicking?'
Unlike other subjects, the Original subjected to primal methods!
The shadow coveted her pure abilities, but learning her life would end before her twenties had been crushing.
Yet...
'Alive? Past twenties?!'
That meant...
[Such fortune!]
"Huh?"
[Masterpiece! A masterpiece emerged, Hansel! That's the treasure!]
"???"
[Ahaha!! Such fortune! Miracles remain even for me!!]
The shadow's high demon regret vanished instantly.
And understandably.
[Let's fetch No. 8, that masterpiece, Hansel. Acquire her at any cost! Mobilize all Black Apostles!!]
"......Uh, yeah?"
[Why that reaction?]
"W-well, she's gotten kinda strong..."
[Hmph, troll-and-gnome strength at best for an Original. Nothing special.]
"N-no..."
[Enough. No arguments. Focus on recovering your power.]
Whoosh.
"......"
The shadow vanished after its piece, leaving Hansel blinking alone.
Then:
"...Oops, shoulda kept quiet?"
Hansel realized her word choice was off.
'Not "kinda"...'
'She's [extremely] strong'—should've added that...