Chapter 338
Chapter 338
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Chapter 338 - EP.71 – 비겁함은 악당의 전유물이 아니다(2)
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----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: crow Chapter Title: EP.71 – Cowardice is Not Exclusive to Villains (2) -----------------------------------------------------------------
No one could properly track his movements.
They didn't even know when or how he approached Roseth. However, rather than screaming or burning with rage over their master being harmed,
Saaak!
the demi-humans simply thrust their bodies forward to draw their swords.
Their movements were incredibly stealthy. The armor they wore was pure white, symbolizing holy knights, yet it evoked images of western assassins.
So stealthy.
Hwoook!
Tricks that highlighted their cowardice.
Pretending to swing their swords, they hurled poisoned daggers and needles. Some even drew pistols and fired without hesitation.
It was clear they would resort to any means. The attacks pouring toward him enveloped the full 360 degrees ahead, leaving no room to escape.
Kwajijik!
"!?"
He broke through regardless, as if utterly unconcerned by whatever attacks came his way.
It seemed insane. But upon witnessing the hidden weapons that struck his body all bounce off—and even the blade that reached his forehead shatter in reverse—they realized something was wrong too late.
"Is that armor tough?"
He was reaching out.
Kwadeuk!
The plate armor encasing the demi-human from head to toe was pierced by his bare hand.
Precisely through the collarbone, armor and all. And in that state,
"Gaaaaaaaak!"
an inexplicable force burrowed in and overwhelmed the demi-human.
The demi-human, thought to be emotionless like a puppet, writhed in agony and collapsed. And at some point...
Kwajik! Kwajijik!
Kwadeuk...!
Still clad in its armor, the demi-human's body twisted and compressed against its will.
Twisting in directions a body should never go, bones and flesh crunching.
The armor dug into those bones and flesh like welding, preventing any return to form. The next moment,
"Ta-da."
Thud!
He spread his hands playfully, as if proudly displaying his creation, and tapped the round sphere.
What was once a demi-human, now transformed into something like an iron ball.
"Lately, I've been using the Reverse Flesh Art and Bone Compression Technique a lot, so I've gotten the hang of it. It's like injecting my power into the opponent's body to compress and twist it. Well, to make it this perfectly round, you also need the Muscle-Splitting Bone-Dislocation Skill and a deep understanding of bones—but luckily, I fulfill all those conditions? Haha."
"......"
"Who's next? If you have a preferred shape, speak up. Not just spheres—cubes, triangles, whatever form you want, I'll make it for you."
"......Gulp."
The sound of someone swallowing dryly echoed from somewhere.
The demi-humans, who knew no fear and carried out any cruel task on their family head's command without hesitation—thought to lack even emotions—suddenly felt 'fear' revive within them.
Feeling they mustn't dare approach that thing, the demi-humans even tried to step back.
Seogeok!
"From now on, any cowards who step back will die by my hand."
"......"
"You pathetic lot—scared of that scum? What even is that thing?!"
Hwoooooook!
Roseth, unleashing fierce momentum, severed a demi-human's neck in a single stroke, his eyes gleaming savagely.
Blood still poured mercilessly from his mouth, his front teeth knocked out, but his aura burned intensely.
Momentum befitting the head of a great noble house occupying one corner of the realm—a sign of his considerable skill.
Gripping a bastard sword of an unusual, greatsword-like form in one hand, he aimed it at his opponent bearing the ridiculous name Santa Ri Han.
"Now I see. You must be the one who's been throwing around Roengrin's name lately. I wondered why none of the assassins we sent ever returned—turns out there was good reason."
Roseth may have been a mess of a man in demeanor, but he possessed the judgment and acumen befitting a family head.
Thus, he instantly realized Santa Ri Han was the culprit troubling Roengrin for some time and grinned ferociously.
"Insolent cur—your confidence in your own power is overinflated. You take out a few assassins and think Roengrin is a joke? Someone like you..."
"It's not Roengrin that's laughable. It's you."
"......"
"You're the easy mark, you pathetic wretch."
"...If that's meant as provocation, it's we—"
"Not provocation—sincerity. Meeting you face-to-face like this, I get it. You're the most arrogant fool I've ever laid eyes on. All that arrogance, zero ability—just coasting on your own hype. The classic spellcaster type. Exactly."
"......"
He sneered with utter sincerity.
The ease with which he'd infiltrated a great noble's mansion was proof enough.
Having investigated Roseth's personality, he'd provoked him openly and delivered the letter.
Only for Roseth to suddenly usher him inside—nearly comical.
Any other great noble, or even a decent prestigious house, would never have allowed it.
They'd have ignored him or sent underlings to dress him down.
But not Roseth.
He'd drawn him into the mansion—and to this confrontation.
Arrogance verging on idiocy.
'Simeon mentioned it. He chased out every loyal subordinate who dared offer counsel, solely because they irked him.'
What even is counsel? Advice even his own men think, 'Yeah, this is crossing a line...'
Yet he fires them for it?
Like a company that sacks all its talent and keeps only the weirdos.
In that sense, this guy was a fool. Worse than your average spellcaster.
Thus.
"Lucky for me I'm not the kind of moron who'd lose to a moron."
"You truly have a loose tongue."
Hwoook!
Roseth's sword traced a savage circle, expressing his displeasure. The massive greatsword bore down on him in an instant and...
Wagjak!
"...!"
"You haven't seen real combat in the last decade, have you? Explains why you're so sluggish."
"H-how can vermin like you..."
"Knew it."
Before he could even gape at the sword—not cutting but snapping in half—he smirked, flicking the broken half with his toe.
"I'll wrap this up quick. Got a dinner date."
He launched it like a soccer ball.
Peureok!
'Strength halved, but speed doubled in exchange? Hilarious.'
Lee Han—disguised, no, transformed into Santa Ri Han—chuckled, feeling that fighting like this had grown familiar at some point.
One might say he'd begun mastering combat with a frail physique.
A fresh sensation.
Kwang!
Though irritating in strength and various other aspects, enduring those irritations let him clearly see his techniques growing more refined.
For example.
Hwoook!
Channeling rotation from waist, legs, and shoulders into his fist for a thrust—the speed compensating for deficient power birthed a sharp strike laced with keenness rather than weight. The instant it precisely hit the opponent's flank,
Pook!
it pierced the armor, skewering ribs and internal organs alike.
"Uwaaaaa!"
Diving into the demi-human charging with a furious kiai at his fallen comrade, he tested a technique after ages.
Wooduk.
A crisp joint lock wrenching bones free. Then a leg sweep to topple, neck snap—the foe crumpled like a puppet with severed strings.
To an onlooker, it might seem a perfectly rehearsed play. But this was no play; to the demi-humans, a desperate deathmatch wagering their lives.
Even if it looked theatrical,
"What? Already done?"
...it was simply because he was overwhelmingly superior.
To the extent he could toy with his foes.
Dozens of demi-humans littered the floor. Only Lee Han stood on two feet.
And.
"Keok, keuk, keuheok!"
Only Roseth—endlessly retching blood, gut pierced and pinned to the wall—retained his wits.
A massive blade impaled his belly, immovable. Luckily sparing heart and vital organs, he clung to life—though the hemorrhaging was so severe, death seemed imminent.
His survival thus far owed solely to his knightly vitality.
"Y-you bastard—p-pull this out now, heal me. D-do that, and I won't press charges. I'll settle for light punishment. S-so pull it out—save me, save m-me..."
"Even like that, you insist on talking big? I'd beg."
"Th-this..."
"Ha, credit where due. Top five toughest bastards I've met."
A being forged purely of pride and noble hubris.
Well, only such ironclad ego lets one blunder this idiotically.
In a way, impressive. Lee Han even clapped, remarking as much.
...Pure mockery, of course.
"-!"
Fuming anew at the taunt, Roseth held his tongue.
Shouting would only hasten the bleeding—and his end.
Thus.
"Save me."
"That again?"
"No threat. Simple fact. Kill me, and you sow greater chaos in the kingdom. You know this? My death implicates Duke Galahad—or the Pendragon royals—instantly. Spread that suspicion, and civil war ignites. Don't want that? Save me. I'll hush this up."
Roseth issued his threat.
Even skewered like that, his face betrayed unshakable conviction he'd survive—knowing he must be spared.
"...Sigh."
"Good. You get it."
Mistaking Lee Han's sigh for assent, Roseth smirked, already scheming his post-escape plots...
"Why do scum like you always recycle the same tired lines? So predictable. Threats? Get creative—or pull some novel ploy. Nothing. ...Right, you naughty sound wraith?"
Hwik.
...Since when had she been there?
A seductive voice rang from thin air, accompanied by the sudden appearance of a stunning woman.
A bewitching figure with flowing crimson hair.
Roseth instinctively surged with dread.
Conviction that this enchantress's advent boded nothing good for him.
As Roseth opened his mouth once more, beaten by a beat...
"Sound wraith—no, dream demon. Eat."
Lee Han's curt command dropped. Permission granted,
Like a loyal hound, the dream demon—Judia—devoured Roseth's body.
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