Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 181
Chapter Title: Aura (3)
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[It's far more impressive than I imagined. How does it feel?]
"...It feels like I've gone back to the past."
Lin asked in a voice tinged with puzzlement. Instead of answering, Ronan clenched his fist. It felt as though his entire body had transformed into a sword.
"...Something like that."
He couldn't tell if this was the potential Lin had mentioned. But the sensation was remarkably similar to the time he'd clashed with Ahayute in their final battle. Back then, even laden with curses, he had never backed down.
Looking back, what had driven Ronan then wasn't some sense of duty to save the world or a thirst for revenge. It was simply because he had to do it. The baldies destroying the world was something that absolutely could not be allowed.
"Let's go."
Ronan gripped the hilt of his sword and pulled. As the pile of severed boulders collapsed from the sword strike, the sunset poured down over his face. He could feel a power he'd never wielded before spreading from his heart.
****
-Pierced through chest!
Pfshk! Lamancha pierced through Darman's chest. The pristine white blade emerged from his back. Darman, skewered like a kebab, vomited blood. As Ronan thrust the sword forward and lifted it upward, Darman's feet left the ground.
"Keurgh!"
"How's that? Hurts, doesn't it?"
Ronan murmured lowly. He had repaid Darman in full for what he'd done to Lin. Thick blood poured over his face, but Ronan ignored it and twisted the blade. Crunch. As the blade tore through flesh, a agonized scream erupted from Darman's mouth. Barely catching his breath, Darman glared at Ronan.
"Th-this...!"
Ronan's face was so serene it bordered on tranquil. No flicker of emotion stirred in his sunset-hued eyes. Staring into Darman's eyes, he spoke.
"Don't think you're going to die easy. I've got a lot of questions for you."
Darman felt chills crawl up his spine. This was a completely different person from the hot-blooded punk of moments ago. A chilling killing intent, like that of a butcher or soldier dutifully performing murders, emanated from Ronan.
'I can't win.'
Darman gritted his teeth. He had to admit the reality that he couldn't turn the tables like this. It wasn't just because Ronan's skill had suddenly improved.
If it had only been a matter of technique, he could have found a way to overcome it. Fights between swordsmen who had surpassed a certain realm were decided by momentary lapses or disruptions. That was how he'd landed a blow on the monster Zaifa.
What despaired him was Ronan's calm demeanor. There wasn't the slightest opening. Tempered by countless trainings, he could easily foresee that Ronan would extract all information from him and then tear him to shreds.
'For some reason, my power is being suppressed.'
And that wasn't the only problem. For some reason, he couldn't circulate his mana. It felt like the sword ravaging his innards was sucking the strength from his entire body.
'If I could just find the tiniest opening...'
This was truly the end. Darman's mind heated up rapidly. Strategic retreat or a last resort were impossible in this state. He needed to create even a momentary gap. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth.
"Begging for my life... won't work, will it?"
"You're asking the obvious."
"...As expected. Then, as a parting gift for the afterlife, I'll tell you something good."
Blood stench wafted with every word from Darman. Amid his ragged breaths, a dry voice leaked from his lips.
"You and I... keh... we're not actually brothers."
"What?"
"But why do you think we resemble each other? Hm?"
It took time to comprehend the words. Ronan's eyes trembled faintly. In that instant, Darman seized the blade piercing his abdomen with both hands. The edge dug deep into his palms, but he had no time to care.
"Kuhhh!"
Darman yanked the blade harshly to the left. Simultaneously, Lamancha, centered in his torso, tore through his side and emerged. The now even sharper blade sliced through bone and flesh as smoothly as butter.
Shlaaak! The gash opened, spilling blood and entrails. Darman tumbled to the ground and rolled hastily. Boom! Ronan's foot slammed where his head had been. As his body separated from the sword, strength returned. He quickly rose and kicked off the ground, back turned to Ronan. Crimson-stained earth surged like a wave. In an instant, Darman put distance between them and shouted in triumph.
"Kehok, heok... Yes!"
"Pathetic."
Ronan furrowed his brow. The sight of him fleeing while trailing guts wasn't pleasant. His own stamina was considerably depleted, so he stood in place and swung his sword. A red crescent shot toward Darman.
"Just... a little... more...!"
Words like an incantation spilled rapidly from Darman's mouth. He twisted his feet deftly to evade. Normally, he could have dodged effortlessly, but unfortunately, Ronan's sword beam differed greatly from ordinary ones. Reaching near Darman, the crescent exploded, scattering fragments everywhere. Clumps of condensed sword energy engulfed him.
"Kaaaaak!"
Kwaaang! Struck by the sword beam's spray, Darman flew back as if hit by a battering ram. The deafening explosion echoed in the crater. Ronan slowly approached the sprawled Darman. The ragdoll-like body was missing its right leg. Even as he crawled worm-like, he mumbled incomprehensible words.
"Descend... upon... me... ."
"You're mumbling nonsense again."
Kwajik! Ronan's foot crushed Darman's back. Intestines spilled from the previously torn side. Darman writhed helplessly, but Ronan ignored it and swung. Red lines traced over Darman's already mangled limbs. As Lamancha returned to its sheath after finishing the task in an instant, the remaining three limbs separated from his body.
Shlaaak! Amid three geysers of blood, a bone-chilling scream erupted. Ronan pinned his neck underfoot and spoke.
"What does that mean? Not brothers?"
"K-Kekeke... Who knows. What could it mean? I only realized it today seeing you... I thought you were just a seed the cult leader scattered and forgot... But something fundamental is different... ."
Darman spoke haltingly. A hollow laugh circled his lips. Not a situation to laugh, but maybe he'd lost too much blood and his head was messed up? Ronan pressed harder and asked.
"Fundamental difference?"
"...Who knows, but this much... I can tell you."
Ronan tilted his head. At the same time, Darman clenched his teeth hard. Clack! An aura erupted from him, rippling outward. Bounced back by the invisible force, Ronan landed about fifty paces away.
"You bastard, trailing off again."
Ronan spat curses, lifting his head. Darman's body was enveloped in pristine white smoke. The sparkling mana spreading across the holy site stung the eyes.
'Getting dangerous now.'
Ronan twisted his lips. The temporary boost from Lin was fading. Every breath made his joints ache.
"Huuuup...!"
Whatever trick he was pulling, it had to end now. Mana-reinforced, Ronan's thighs bulged fiercely. Boom! He kicked off the ground and leaped, his sword about to reach the smoke. A eerie voice resounded.
"What?"
Ronan's eyes widened. The low voice, like from an underground leyline, carried a distinct sense of familiarity. Suddenly, a fist tore through the smoke and smashed into Ronan. Kwaaang! He flew to the crater's edge, embedding into the rock wall.
"Keurgh!"
Ronan gritted his teeth. It felt like hundreds of iron balls were rattling in his skull. Even defending with his sword laid flat, the impact was this severe. He immediately detached and landed on the ground. The voice came again.
"You... ."
Ronan raised his head and froze in place. The smoke dispersed, mingling with the wind. At its center stood Darman, limbs regenerated.
The problem was that wasn't the only change. Darman's body had roughly doubled in size overall. His skin had turned a pristine white like a snowy field. Behind his broadened shoulders sprouted a pair of wings reminiscent of a bird's.
An all-too-familiar appearance. Though incomparable in size or majesty to the original, it was clear he'd borrowed power from a certain being. Ronan, rigid, murmured entranced.
"Ahayute."
Darman said. It felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend. From the direction of the survivors, horrified voices burst out.
"My god, a monster!"
"Wh-what the hell is that?"
Their faces twisted in terror. Those who had just eliminated three underlings and were about to join Ronan froze solid.
The only ones not succumbing to panic, Naviroje and Schlieffen, swung their swords. Kwaaang! A verdant crescent and blade of wind flew toward Darman simultaneously. Kwaaang! An explosion overturning the ground engulfed his form. Naviroje bit her lower lip.
"Damn it."
She instinctively knew the attack hadn't worked. Sure enough, as the explosion subsided, an intact Darman appeared. A spherical barrier around him distorted the surrounding space with its intense aura. Even at a glance, it dwarfed the barriers wielded by Pung-ryu Sword or Aziega.
"Run!"
Naviroje shouted. But Darman's target wasn't them. Raising his arm, light from the surroundings gathered into his now snow-white hand. Soon, a long spear of light formed in Darman's grasp.
"That...!"
Ronan narrowed his eyes. Another familiar technique. Darman soared, whipping up a gale, and hurled the spear at Ronan.
It was like lightning striking straight down. An enormous explosion, too vast to take in at a glance, engulfed Ronan's position. A pillar of light, perhaps 30 meters wide, shot up into the sky. Several participants' legs gave out, collapsing in place.
"Ronan!"
Schlieffen shouted. There seemed no hope of survival from that blast. As the light faded, the utterly destroyed crater revealed itself.
Darman muttered lowly. Thick smoke, too dense to open one's eyes, billowed from where the light pillar had risen. As he flapped his wings in midair, gazing down at Ronan's former spot, whoosh...! Suddenly, the crimson glow from before burst through the smoke.
Darman raised his hand to shield his face. Even having taken in a fragment of the god, he couldn't gaze directly at it. The sensation of being drawn by some unknown force enveloped his body again. When he opened his eyes, he was inside the smoke he'd been watching.
Darman's brow furrowed. Unable to hide his fluster, as he scanned around frantically, an indescribably fierce killing intent stabbed his nape. He whipped his head around desperately and gasped. Ronan, sword drawn and ready, was right in his face.
Ronan's condition was astonishingly intact. Darman's face twisted sharply at the impossible event. Staring into his eyes, Ronan quipped nonchalantly.
"Sorry, but I've faced the original too."
Darman reached out hastily. But Ronan's sword was already at his throat. Lamancha, fused with the holy sword, traced a gentle arc. A white line etched across Darman's neck.
"Such a drama queen. At least the real one didn't scream."
Ronan said. Simultaneously, blue blood spurted from the sword's path. Sensing he hadn't severed the neck bone in one stroke, he clicked his tongue. Clutching his dangling head, Darman took to the air.
Blue blood rained down. As his wings spread, a gale blew away the smoke in one go. Screams erupted again among the survivors. Looking up at him, Ronan gripped his hilt.
"I'm sick of chasing you up there."
The blood drenching his face felt cold. Suddenly, Naviroje's explanation of aura flashed in his mind. She'd said one's ego and desires shape the aura. It seemed about right.
Not entirely clear, but he had some guesses. The helplessness of merely watching Ahayute dominate the skies. His obsession with sword range. The sunset-tied tale he'd shared shoulder-to-shoulder with Adeshan someday.
The last thought likely determined its form. Pulling in the world's light to avoid death. Even reconsidered, it sounded badass. Ronan's mouth slowly opened.
"Come down, Darman."
This was the end. Ronan gripped the hilt. Lamancha's blade dyed sunset hues again. The emanating flash enveloped Darman flapping away. Space warped in an instant, and a sunset-like glow dragged him before Ronan's eyes.
Darman shouted something, but Ronan didn't respond. His arm blurred momentarily and vanished. Elegant sword paths crisscrossed Darman's body wildly. Finally halting the strikes, as he shook blood from the blade, shlaaak! Darman's body tore into seven pieces and collapsed explosively.