Continental War (7)
Three feet of copper, a thousand miles of iron—a debuff's power.
Another swing clears the field, Blood Flame Mountain temporarily neutralizing enemies while maximizing the wielder's strength.
These two forces differed from the true Twin Dragon Swords Hyun-soo envisioned.
Fighting in the Chinese lines, Hyun-soo had judged this battle beyond any one person's grasp.
Just like that day with the Lord of Loyalty.
Instead of stripping those powers, he maximized Imperial Warship's "Still to the Gods" and "Twelve Remain" in a new way.
Awaken was the force that had briefly elevated Bella to legend.
Her immense potential formed the foundation.
The extent depended on one's potential and how well the Saga Stone aligned with the sword's meaning.
Users' potential paled infinitely compared to NPC Bella's.
Thus, he fused his own flame with Awaken and Imperial Warship's twelve vessels.
Imperial Warship
"Still to the Gods."
Twelve Remain
"Twelve ships still remain."
Unlike lending his power to just Ian, he imbued it into them all.
Overcoming Awaken's flaws, he infused his flame's advantages.
Blaze Up
"Burn hottest, resonating with the saga."
Flames ignited from each wielder of a single Twin Dragon Sword.
Even amid the scorching blue inferno, they felt it.
'Warm.'
'Not hot.'
'Power surging.'
High-level users shared a common truth.
Boosting attack or defense by even 1 became exponentially harder at their levels.
Another truth: a mere +1 attack or defense meant far more growth than a low-level user's entire progression.
True strength embodied this.
One tiger could face a pack of ten wolves.
And Blaze Up's true advantage stemmed from this.
Though it couldn't explode based on raw potential, it explosively amplified their specialized strengths.
Bak marveled.
All stats +19%.
Physical and magic defense +39%.
All growth-related skills +3 levels.
Burn hottest for 30 seconds.
Bak was a user.
For NPCs, stat boosts manifested as level increases.
But not for users.
Yet in this moment, it felt like his level was being measured.
Bak could scarcely believe it.
For a fleeting moment, he neared legend.
He glanced around. The flames weren't his alone.
Blazes roared from every Twin Dragon Sword wielder.
The Olympic trio heard their alerts.
As top-tier users, they knew the truth.
"A legend is written" was reserved for creators.
Hearing it as combatants meant one thing.
'We've stepped closer to legend.'
Even briefly, it signaled their proximity to legend.
Not just high levels.
The system deemed them potential true legends someday.
It heralded possibility.
"Fuckin' hell, you think eight of you can hold back this many!?"
Chinese users sneered as they surged over the shattered gates.
The battlefield was grim.
126 Korean survivors against 451 Chinese.
Fear was real.
In that fear, the Twin Dragon Swords' saga questioned—and they answered thus.
They had to rise.
Board those ships now, hold somehow.
Standing still changed nothing.
With or without this power, they would hold.
Each had reasons; sometimes, they yearned to be protagonists.
Bak, for new goals beyond a dull reality.
Riesel, for Chairman Lee Tae-seong's approval and executives' cheers.
The Olympic trio, to shed "people living in the past" and soar.
Simple reasons converged.
The Chinese user spewing curses moments ago lunged for the gate.
Shrieeek—
Booom—!
Ian's single arrow sent him flying back.
"Gahaaaaack!"
Pinned by packed Chinese users behind, he panicked.
HP drops below 60%.
"W-what the...?"
He was sly.
While allies fought, he conserved strength, dodging battles.
His HP stayed at 100%.
He'd watched comrades take 15-25% HP hits from Ian's arrows, deeming them mad.
Ian's were plain shots, after all.
Yet one arrow shaved 40% off him.
"Over ya go!"
Ian and Hye-ji stepped forward.
Arrows drawn from quivers on their backs.
Normally, their nock-and-loose took 1.4 seconds.
Not now.
In just 1 second, each loosed a shot.
Bang, boom, boom-boom, boom-boom—!
Gate-crossers flew back one by one.
Just two archers.
Yet their one-per-second barrage stalled the Chinese rush.
"Use skills!"
A man charged ahead.
Bak, gripping his shield emblazoned Aegis, dashed forward. It swelled massively.
Becoming a wall.
A colossal barrier blocking the gate.
Skill-enhanced beyond norms, its defense defied reason.
Grrrrrind—
Booom-boom-boom-boom-boom—!
The 4-meter shield withstood barrages of massive skills and spells unmoved.
"Spearmen, knights—forward!"
Chinese users madly charged Bak.
"Raaaaagh!"
Bak strained, finally yielding to the pressure.
That instant.
A dragon three times normal size.
Fwoooosh—
A colossal beast exhaled massive breath.
Bak shrank his shield to normal.
Enemies collapsed without the wall.
Then it poured down.
"Dragon's Roar."
Kiiiiieeeee—!
A dragon far beyond normal size unleashed breath amid foes.
Fond panicked seeing 30 enemies vanish swiftly.
A Chinese user yelled.
"What the hell? Four hundred can't break that tiny group!?"
"This can't be real!"
Bak, history buff, dropped among them, declaring:
One Man Blocks the Pass
"One soldier blocks the pass."
Thousands Tremble
"And a thousand foes tremble."
Crackle-crack—
Dozens froze. Dozens more Chinese charged Bak.
"What bullshit is— you fuckin'—"
Tae-hoon appeared behind Bak.
Thud, thud-thud-thud, thud-thud-thud—!
His ghostly kicks crumpled or shattered unique- and near-legendary armors.
"Amidst Ten Thousand, I Stand Alone."
Tae-hoon murmured, glancing aside.
Han-ul's sword beside him sliced only throats.
Shwick, stab, shunk, clatter-crash—
Chinese scattered like autumn leaves.
350 Chinese encircled, pressing them.
Terrifying for any onlooker.
Yet they shone.
"......"
World rank 4 Fond couldn't believe it.
Allies scattered in their wake.
He dared not approach. Could he even kill these temporarily empowered foes? Doubt gripped him.
Fierce, desperate—this mere event.
No, Fond realized.
Ares had become lives, reasons to live.
'Dad, you watching the continental war?'
A chaebol heir asked; the chairman, scorning such games, now watched his son intently from his office.
Koreans clustered like Olympics or World Cup, cheering heroes with beer and chicken, embracing past Olympic legends.
Someone sighed, "No more fun now."
His secretary recalled, unable to reply.
'Got a new goal.'
'New goal, sir?'
'Yeah. I'll make Hyun's Forge the world's top guild.'
Her boss, joyful then. Now, arms crossed, she beamed at his exploits.
Each had reasons.
Their ferocity, desperation, advance.
Fond had to admit it.
Shwoooosh—
Ally ashes scattered past him; he stepped back.
Fleeting terror in his eyes.
Scanning wildly, over 300 of 451 haughty Chinese were gone.
Their blazing flames dispersed.
Gasping survivors, Chinese retreated.
Soon, relief. Their heat faded.
Even now, Fond and Riu schemed slyly.
No intervention. They spectated from rear.
Minimizing damage for MVP shot.
Exhausted Hyun's Forge members looked ready to drop.
No—Blaze Up's backlash made standing hard.
Now Fond advanced.
Sneering at their ragged breaths.
"Koreans can't do shit without their national high!"
Nothing changed.
Chinese forces overwhelmed.
No need for Fond to kill these weakened foes.
Others would slaughter them brutally.
Striding to cross the gate, Fond eyed the Twin Dragon Swords.
"World-class general? You hyped him up—what else but national high!? You bask in it daily, self-congratulating!"
Chinese casters fell silent.
Dangerous words.
But viewers didn't.
Fond crossed as Hyun's Forge logged out behind.
'Took forever for this one gate...'
Then.
"It's not national high."
Fond's face twisted in shock.
Beyond the gate stood one user, waiting.
In 30 short seconds.
Alone, facing the gate-crossing Chinese.
Bloodstained brown coat.
Gauntlets and boots gleaming black.
Fond and Chinese could only scoff.
Cool entrance, but situation hopeless?
Every camera zoomed on Hyun-soo denying "national high."
Then, anomaly.
He reached for the Twin Dragon Swords plunged in ground.
Shiiiing—
The over-three-foot greatsword wrapped softly into his grip.
Left: Peerless Supreme Blade.
Right: Transcendent Twin Dragon Sword.
He drew both to center.
Artifacts are combined.
The mightiest weapons converged.
As all cameras closed in, his resolute voice rang.
"It's history."
A Sentence Begins