Chapter 53
Chapter 53
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.15 – The Knight Holds a Banquet (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Metallurgy Department instructor Hans Schmidt.
Fine Arts Department lecturer Dorothy.
Statistics Department's Kam.
Architecture Department's Den.
History Department professor Arlen de Wagner.
They were renowned instructors within the Academy, talented individuals of exceptional caliber.
Some had even reached the ranks of masters.
Yet here they were, in the lawless zone known as the Prostitute Abyss.
A place even elite soldiers hesitated to enter, and they had strode right in?
Those big shots, no less?
It was blatant proof that something was deeply suspicious.
However.
"W-Wait a moment! It's a m-misunderstanding! There's been some kind of mix-up, so let's talk it out…!"
"Y-Yes, Sir Turtle! We can resolve this with a conversation! Th-There's a huge misunderstanding between us!"
"Ahem, this fellow's a bit hot-headed, but we all have our reasons—."
Puke!
"Uh…."
Thud.
Den, the master of architecture.
A large needle had pierced his chest.
A concealed weapon commonly used among assassins.
And that very weapon had struck Den's chest dead-on. He dropped to his knees, vomiting blood.
"I've coated it with goblin trash poison. You know how their venom is a messy mix that's a pain to detox? Bet it's hurting like hell, right?"
"Wh-What have you done…?!"
To hurl a concealed weapon without a word—what kind of barbarity was this!
They were genuinely furious….
"—Hah, how did you figure it out?"
Vmmm.
With a sneer-laced laugh, he manifested 'mana'.
A murky, sludge-like hue utterly unlike Irene Windler's beautiful wavy blue.
But everyone knew it was mana all the same.
The color shown by 'illegal mages' who had abandoned all human decency.
Whoosh!
The needle melted away without a trace.
Den had already burned the poison with his mana.
"Kgh, vicious!"
But goblin trash poison was tenacious.
He had neutralized it, but with all sorts of filth mixed in, even standing was a struggle.
Without mana, it would have been unbearable.
"You lowly knight scum, how dare you…!"
Their friendly smiles were gone, replaced by contemptuous glares from all five.
Lee Han remained utterly impassive amid their rage-filled stares.
No, his cold ruthlessness was downright chilling.
Twitch!
Hans flinched at the ominous vibe but gritted his teeth, trying not to show it.
"You bastard, how did you know?"
"Know what."
"How did you uncover our true identities?!"
"That's what you're curious about right now?"
"It's a mage's scholarly curiosity."
"Scholarly my ass—you're just plague-spreading vermin."
"……."
Lee Han shot back incredulously, his expression devoid of humor but simmering with barely contained fury.
"You brainless bugs, did you really think you could openly manipulate people without getting caught?"
"……."
"Was it fun watching that idiot Ordwal dance to your tune? You morons who think you're so smart. Oh, is that offensive? The real morons are smarter and nicer than you lot. Can't even use maggots as an example—you're less useful than them and filthier than rapists."
"…We will never let you live."
"You're not kobolds playing around—why keep barking like dogs?"
"!!"
Whoosh!
Further talk was pointless. They drew wands from their robes and raised them high.
To punish the insolent 'wretch' who had insulted them!
However.
Slash!
"Who the hell are you pointing that at, you son of a bitch."
Splurt!
"Gaaahk!"
Spellcasters who didn't even know basic manners—Hans's wrist was severed by the axe.
If asked when he had noticed their awkwardness around him, he would answer thus:
'I knew from the start'—
They were that obvious.
Dorothy—or rather, the woman who had stolen Dorothy's skin—had no painter's pigments or graphite scent on her fingertips.
Instead of the atelier aroma expected from a famed artist, she reeked only of rotting 'corpse stench'.
And she expected anyone to buy her as a painter? Laughable.
Whoosh!
Razor-sharp winds like blades poured toward Lee Han, but he charged undeterred.
Wind magic capable of shredding human flesh.
Thwack!
"Urk!"
"Brush your teeth—your breath stinks."
Crunch!
As if mere blades could wound his body.
Unscathed, he seized the mage's jaw and crushed it outright.
No more spells for her—only a lifetime of mush.
Assuming she survived.
"L-Leeni!"
"That her name? Where's the real Dorothy, then?"
"You bitch! Let go of that hand!"
"There, let go."
With a swing, he hurled the mage's body at the others.
They tried to catch her with telekinesis, but alas….
Puke!
"!!?"
"Y-You mad bastard!"
Lee Han's sword pierced her gut, sparing organs, then speared straight through another mage's throat.
"Guhk…!?"
Splatter!
Chants like screams.
But these fools.
What kind of idiot casts spells with a knight this close?
Whoosh!
Crunch!
Lee Han's hand axe pierced Kam's chest dead center.
For a Statistics Department talent coveted even by the royals, his eyes reeked of drugs and were utterly vacant.
Nothing upstairs.
The last one desperately tried to finish his chant.
"—Shut the hell up—!"
A roar greater than a lion's—no, a tiger's—boomed out, instantly canceling the chant.
Lion's Roar.
Lee Han's bellow, infused with immense presence, echoed thunderously through the entire street.
The impact even cracked the dilapidated buildings.
Far beyond the roar he had shown the cadets the day before.
And this roar, laced with killing intent and presence, was a weapon in itself.
"M-My ears!? I-I can't hear…!"
"Aaaahk…!"
It struck true.
The mages' chants tangled mid-cast, wracking them with agony.
But Lee Han's roar inflicted the greatest damage and pain.
Blood streamed from ears, eyes, noses; one fainted on the spot.
Arlen.
Suited more to a 'pimp' reeking of women's perfume and blood than a legendary historian.
"No hiding it, you fucking parasites."
Prostitute Abyss.
They called this street the kingdom's cancer, its parasites?
Wrong.
The true worthless parasites were them.
Stealing others' skins, leeching off their very lives.
Lee Han's honest assessment.
"H-How…."
Hans, the sole surviving mage, trembled violently.
In seconds, four comrades were vomiting blood, unconscious, or dead.
Overwhelming.
Yes, utter domination.
He was crushing these mages like vermin underfoot.
"T-Turtle, Sir…."
"Convenient. First 'this guy, that guy', now honorifics? Pick one."
Step, step.
His footsteps drew near.
Hans felt like he was going mad with terror.
What kind of monster was this?
Just a demoted knight, they said—clearly no demotion-worthy skill.
"Wh-What the hell are you?! Why are you even at the Academy?!"
"……."
"Y-You're after it too, aren't you?! Infiltrating for the 'musket' blueprints left by the great alchemist! I-I'll give it! Just spare my life—."
"You're disgusting—shut your damn mouth."
Crunch!
"Gaaahk!"
He stomped the ankle.
No mercy in his strikes.
Stepping forward, he brutally seized the jaw.
Crack, crunch!
"!!!"
And shattered it.
Pure brute force.
Further still.
Puke.
…Drove a large needle into the heart.
"Mages don't die easy even with a pierced heart. Must be that mana core organ—tougher than normals. But pin the heart, and no mana flows."
"!!"
Jaw shattered, mana sealed—Hans, or whatever bore his name, thrashed in agony, but it was futile flailing.
Escaping his grip was like a monkey dreaming of fleeing an alligator's jaws.
"Hoo."
Lee Han crushed him underfoot and looked to the sky.
Truly.
"These mosquito bastards—why do they keep coming no matter how many I swat?"
He grumbled like a man swatting mosquitoes plaguing him even after summer's end.
As if he hadn't just killed people.
Meanwhile, as if to prove the Prostitute Abyss unusually crowded today, onlookers had secretly watched the mages' battle with Lee Han.
"Impressive. They weren't amateurs, but he took them down that easily."
"Not just brute strength—he's seasoned too. Keeps pulling out surprises."
As Jake said.
Unlike the sloppy mages the cadets beat today, these were no half-baked amateurs.
Each was a Rank 2 illegal mage who hesitated at neither murder nor crime.
Rank 2 required senior knights—or high knights personally.
Their power and lethality were no joke.
Yet he neutralized them in under a minute.
Like toying with children—but those with keen combat vision would see it.
His style specialized in subduing and killing mages, with clever, veteran tactics.
"He's mastered how to fight—no, 'kill' mages. Honed in countless real battles."
"Does he just eat and kill mages for breakfast?"
"Wouldn't put it past him."
"……."
Maybe he really had only killed mages his whole life.
Impossible to explain that proficiency otherwise.
Some personal grudge, perhaps?
Then.
"—How long you gonna just watch?"
"……."
"Come out, you cocky young master."
"……."
The youngest scion of the North, Roan, gave a wry smile.
'Caught after all, huh.'
He'd figured he couldn't fool those eyes, but getting spotted so casually stung.
"My lord…."
"Let's go."
"We'll get beat if we do?"
"Gotta take it today."
Roan accepted it readily—even if beaten, he'd endure today.
For good reason.
"Here you are, you cocky bastard."
"…My apologies."
"Damn right. I spared them for your sake."
Tap.
"……."
A crumpled paper hit Roan's chest and fell.
The note Lee Han found in the scarecrow yesterday.
Unknown sender—but seeing Roan, he knew.
"Yeah, I didn't kill them, like you said."
This was the guy who saw right through him.
Roan nodded calmly, acknowledging it, and scanned the surroundings.
"Three seem dead."
"Killed exactly two. Spared the woman's vitals—gut only. She's breathing. Could die from blood loss anytime. Not my problem."
"…I see."
Yet he spared those who shouldn't die easy.
Could read crime severity?
…Whatever the skill.
"Splendid work."
Results beyond expectation.
At the praise, Lee Han.
"Splendid? Then—take one light hit."
"……Ah."
Prediction realized, Roan broke into cold sweat.
He was prepared, but looking around now, he felt it.
Blood splattered everywhere.
Strength to crush jaws like jelly.
'One light hit'—not sure he'd see tomorrow.
'Should've left a more polite message?'
The regressor belatedly realized regrets always come too late.