Chapter 573
Chapter 573
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 573
Chapter Title: Chapter 573 - #118_배신(2)
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 573
Chapter Title: Betrayal (2)
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Within Shin Si-woo's unconscious mind, the Black Knight was far stronger than the real Si-woo.
No matter how remarkable his growth had been, the gap in their specs at this moment was overwhelming.
He had clashed with the Black Knight countless times so far, but he had never won even once.
On top of that, the Black Knight—who had directly intervened in the trial to create his own hunting ground—had even undone the restriction of "maintaining the strength from the initial single registration."
The fact that it could hold conversations interactive enough with Si-woo, and that the quality of its magic had risen dramatically, proved it.
However.
-Karduk!
Sharp bursts of mana and sparks from the distortion field.
Amid the ribbons twisting together to the point of shredding, scattering ceaselessly, Si-woo had already been locked in a standoff with the Black Knight for over five minutes.
It wasn't just good luck.
With his actual life on the line, he was resisting more desperately than ever.
He had no concrete proof of what would happen if he lost here, but it sure as hell didn't look like something he could brush off with a casual "Ta-da, it was nothing."
The crisis of mortal danger awakened even his normally dormant potential.
"Hup!"
His lungs, filled to bursting with air, expelled a breath like a drumbeat.
Spinning once, the accelerating spear tip sliced through the dense ribbons' blockade and thrust at the Black Knight's helmet.
The Black Knight's response to the unavoidable strike was lightning-quick.
It deflected the distortion-field-laden spear using the curve of its helmet.
Any ordinary witch would have taken massive damage from that alone.
The distortion field and barrier invading via the "magic"-forged armor's circuits would have caused a fatal short like dumping water into delicate wiring.
Unfortunately, the Black Knight wielded the same kind of magic as Si-woo.
And it was a cut above in handling distortion fields.
Suppressing it by relying solely on his weapon's advantage was a tall order.
That said, Si-woo held a slight edge in close quarters, so he pressed in relentlessly, just like before.
The Black Knight shook off its leech-like foe and fought to reclaim interception range.
The real reason Si-woo could hold this razor-thin battle against the unshackled, full-power Black Knight was something else.
The magic formula encircling them everywhere.
To arbitrarily remodel the trial, the Black Knight was diverting part of its power to maintain that formula.
Even real-time feedback and repairs on the formula shattering from the fight's shockwaves—an acrobatic feat Si-woo couldn't even dream of mimicking.
But transforming the fleeting "Cradle of Dreams" into a deathmatch arena demanded insane computation.
"Hng!"
To capitalize on that opening, he stomped his lead foot hard.
The power rippling outward in a circle from his toes rattled the magic circle—the Black Knight's reaction lagged just a beat, and Si-woo didn't miss it.
-Sheeeek!
The spear strike breaking the sound barrier lanced toward its heart.
Life-or-death stakes aside, it felt monotonously identical to past trials.
He'd planned to test his newly theorized distortion waves, but even Si-woo wasn't reckless enough to debut a theory-only technique in combat.
Better to latch onto the Black Knight's hesitation and force pure close combat...
-Whirr!
To the straight thrust, the Black Knight whirled its spear like a windmill in riposte.
As countless martial arts and gladiator bouts proved, linear attacks were vulnerable to lateral force.
At this rate, the tip would graze between its ribs, and he'd lose the exchange.
He clenched his jaw, reining in his outgoing breath.
"Sssup...!"
He wrenched the thrusting spear to a halt mid-motion.
-Screeech
Naturally, even a spirit-reinforced, armored body groaned under the strain of the reversal.
Fierce pain surged from his knee through his frame, as if his bones might pop free amid the perilous creak.
But he'd caught it.
The turn didn't shift.
"Hah!"
With a shout, he slashed blade-ward, untouched by the spin.
A vast fan-shaped sweep.
The Black Knight's neck lay squarely on its arc.
Victory seemed certain.
And he realized that certainty was rash.
-Crack!
A solid impact.
Si-woo's spear had struck true.
But not the feel of parting flesh and plate.
The Black Knight had charged into the strike, body-first.
An unforeseen defense—it had only widened distance before—pulling the impact forward to minimize harm.
The wide swing bowed to centrifugal force inevitably.
Blade end fully powered, inner side far weaker.
The Black Knight rode the blow, kicking off to the opposite flank.
A human frame—armored beyond 200kg—hurtled like a baseball.
The hard-won interval shattered in a blink.
"What...?"
Common sense—anyone could've thought of it.
But Si-woo's shock ran deeper than surprise.
His swing transcended "common sense."
Footwork, mana reinforcement, powered armor, King of All Diseases pact—a technically flawless strike.
Even the weakened inner arc equated to a dump truck collision.
Proof: the Black Knight's left arm trailed shadows in deformity, spraying as it fled.
Open fracture—bones jutting sans plate.
Blood droplets fountained from gauntlet seams nonstop.
But insufficient.
The suicidal gamble traded an arm for prime distance.
"Bloom!!!"
No time to gawk.
He pursued late.
Distance this wide? Black Knight's turn now.
Black ribbons bloomed flower-like in all directions, red branches chambered as warning.
Now came the nauseatingly familiar game of odds.
Black Knight lived, arm sacrificed; Si-woo left with left or right.
Red gleam flashed.
Illusion or not, he bolted right at max speed.
-Shyaaaack!
Hard-thrown red branch's near-miss trail.
Skin prickled with gooseflesh nearby.
Yet unease lingered mid-evasion, full-throttle closure.
Last trial, it'd reclaimed and reused fired branches somehow.
This instant too.
No fluke—fresh red branch menaced from its grip anew.
"Bloom."
Graceful black petals unfurled.
Russian roulette, round two.
No second stroke of fortune.
Luck's goddess favored the Black Knight.
Si-woo's midair form tangled in distortion fallout, plummeted groundward.
2.
Dorothy met the gaze of Lurue staring up at her, cold sweat beading profusely.
Even now, no malice in those eyes.
Only bewilderment, pain's torment, and far greater shock.
As predicted—no, sloppier than imagined.
Dorothy's autonomic magic specialized in close range.
Within blade's reach, top-tier undisputed.
Even 23rd Hierarchy autonomous defense? Distance yielded, she'd pierce easy.
But who'd guess it wouldn't trigger till her sword churned the gut.
Lurue's complacency hit home anew.
"Dorothy... why... why suddenly... how dare you... to me... to me..."
Lurue writhed, straining to rise.
Futile every time.
Hand over wound smeared crimson streaks on deck.
Wound shallow really.
Recovery spell? Four, five days' rest.
None? Spirit resilience clears it monthly.
Issue: location.
Dorothy had slain witches aplenty—knew neutralization vitals cold.
Blade slanted through dantian, spared stigma proper damage.
But her spirit-severing edge bisected the central mana conduit radiating from it body-wide.
Thus, 23rd Hierarchy or not—commoner now.
"Foolish queen..."
Dorothy knelt by Lurue's head, saintlike vigil for battlefield fallen.
"Trusting others so easily—is that wise?"
"What's wrong with... trusting a friend...?"
"Trust and complacency? Worlds apart."
Crew swarmed then.
Akula's mistress assaulted—leukocytes rushed to shield.
Lurue knew her loyalists' choice here.
"N-no...! Stand down!"
But mere chore familiars.
Versus Dorothy, battle-scarred grand witch.
Outcome obvious—Lurue pleaded desperately to halt them.
-Snap
"Now, now~ hold."
Dorothy's finger-flick froze their pistol-draw menace uniform.
Lurue felt Akula link—and crew contracts—snatched in a flash.
Dorothy'd refitted this sub with prior Nukelavi.
Mana severed? Hijacking vessel and vassals was cakewalk.
"Bind her. Staunch the wound."
Seconds-prior outraged loyalists now trussed their queen.
Lurue scanned faces in daze—no flicker of doubt.
As if prior fealty mere theater, core machinery— they executed Dorothy's bids mute.
"Queen dotes on these familiars, hm~? See? Just parts. Your Nukelavi kingdom frolic? Child's play."
"No! They pledge fealty to—!"
"Then halt my orders?"
"Anastasia, Natasha..."
Lurue beseeched by name.
They heeded Dorothy's chill decree, not pleas.
Lurue stared vacant at Dorothy, resistance ebbed.
Head lolled.
Teardrops beaded cheek-trails.
"Why... why this? My magic? Or..."
"Queen's lineage too alien~ no study value. But that toy of yours? Prime."
Lurue twigged amid turmoil: Shin Si-woo.
"No...! What for him...!"
"Magic research—handy tool."
"No...! No...!"
Ominous visions bloomed.
Lurue flailed wilder than stab-moment—Dorothy strode before.
"Queen."
Dorothy caressed her cheek slow.
"This is the public enemy's life. Magic demands all—backstab even dear friend's pupil. Fleeting desires pave it."
Lurue recoiled instinctive at the eerie poise.
Dorothy flashed her perennial cryptic smile.
"Quite the joke, no?"
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