Blaze Scorpion Onslaught (3)
The Blaze Scorpion. The monster Jeon Eunbyeol had mentioned—a name any Awakener worth their salt would recognize. For a mere mob, it had a ridiculously grandiose title, and there was good reason for that.
Born straight into C-rank classification. Grow just a bit more, and it'd hit B-rank...
Sounds underwhelming on paper, right? But that's just because the Association slapped a high-danger rating on it to avoid backlash. From personal experience fighting the damn thing, it was a pain in the ass on par with an A-rank.
Tough exoskeleton that laughed off most blades, spiral patterns etched into its shell granting insane resistance to slashes. Add in those freakish muscles enabling sturdy, agile movements.
And if that wasn't enough, one graze meant a venom so lethal you'd be sharing drinks with the King of Hell. Even in my past life, this bastard had made my blood run cold... Who'd have thought I'd run into it again like this?
And a modified one, at that.
Tsk. I pulled a cigarette-shaped chocolate from my pocket and stuck it in my mouth. Kay nagged me so much about it that I'd stocked up on these substitutes.
...From what I remember, it was a frog, wasn't it?
Truth be told, magical beast attacks had never really involved me back then. I was F-class trash, and the attack hit a D-class zone—totally different league. The details were night and day, too. A few C-rank giant fire-spewing frogs had rampaged, wiping out an entire class and claiming fifty casualties total. No freak like this.
Bottom line: The future had changed.
For the worse.
But whatever. Every regression story has the plot veering off-script—that's just how it goes. First things first: Deal with this thing in front of me, then plan ahead.
Boom! A deafening explosion rocked the air as a massive bulk hurtled toward me. I kicked off the ground and dodged nimbly. Hard to believe something over five meters long could react that fast. It swung its pincers with the speed of a blunt technique master—heavy, crushing power packed into every blow.
Not easy.
I channeled the principles of enlightenment into my blade's tip. Softness deflects strength; strength severs softness. I twisted my wrist, varying the force, redirecting the pincer and lightening its momentum. Mixed in some killing intent to keep its eyes locked on me, pulling aggro just right.
Kay. Repair status?
Report: 71%. My apologies, Master. Even with the time you've bought me, this is all I've managed. I am deeply sorry.
Don't beat yourself up. Just do what you can.
Understood.
I thought calmly. Fundamentally, the Blaze Scorpion's weakness is its regeneration—or lack thereof.
High biological cost to sustain life means variants and mutants are just tougher or have special abilities, but none have regen skills. You drop 'em once, and they're done.
In other words, bolster the regen, and it's got no weaknesses... Covered it with a skill core, huh.
The ultimate treasure: Ingest and adapt to claim the recorded power. Something every Awakener covets, wasted on a mere magical beast. An SS+ grade one, no less. Insane.
Only one group I'd peg for this: Number five of the Six Paths of Demonic Reversal, the Black Sheep. That fucker and no one else. The past-life attack traced back to him too, so no doubt.
Master. Repair complete. But it's only temporary. Won't last long.
Good work.
I drew a deep breath, gathering mana in my heels and blasting it out like boosters. Residual images trailed as I closed the gap. The beast's three pairs of red pupils—eighteen compound eyes total—darted every which way, tracking me.
Ridiculous regen, but...
Even that has limits. Its mana reserves were noticeably depleted. This time, I'd shred it beyond repair.
Problem is...
Having died once already, it curled up defensively, boxer-style guard with zero openings, just waiting for a chance.
...Mess with its vision first?
I gripped the hilt, infusing my slashing intent into mana and spreading it. A rippling heat haze formed, birthing an illusionary clone that charged forward.
Casting an unrecorded skill.
Executing technique through intuition and experience alone, despite lacking related abilities.
Code name: Original skill recorded by the Immutable Faith Woman.
Usage information transmitted to the creator.
Degraded version. Direct contact with creator will record as skill.
Fuckin' hell. Why notify her? Damn author always pulling weird shit to stop skill copying.
Should be fine. It's just a report that someone used it—no personal details or records. We're master and disciple anyway; what could she say?
...Don't you always say that, only to deal with backlash later?
Now's not the time to be picky about hot or cold rice?
"Kishaaak!"
The beast moved. Sharp instincts made it react hypersensitively, slamming a pincer dead-on at the clone.
Gotcha.
It exposed a natural opening in its haste, whirling in panic. I didn't miss the split-second gap.
I steadied my breath, filling my lungs. Ignited a fierce inner blaze like burning fuel. Fed precise vibrations into my fingertips. The hilt trembled violently, on the verge of shattering. An eerie whine built, ready to burst.
I stepped into Dragon Horn Stance. The ground cratered, spiderwebbing cracks. The scabbard exploded outward. I unleashed a ferocious sword beam straight at it.
Looked like an ordinary violet slash, but any swordmaster would gape. Not a simple strike—every strand of energy whirled like a blender blade at high speed. Claw marks scarred the path like a beast's frenzy.
The beast raised both pincers. Ominous mana coiled, rippling dark waves. It scissored to meet the beam.
Crunch!
"Kiik!"
It let out its first startled screech. Mana shroud shredded instantly. The beam pulverized a pincer, then diced its torso into mince.
The beast shrieked in horror. Panicking at its crumbling body, it tried to retreat. Too late. The energy invaded, ripping muscles, gutting internals. Thick entrails sprayed as it collapsed.
"Kisheeeek—!"
A violet explosion erupted. The body fragmented into dozens of chunks, scattering. Crackling embers echoed ongoing slashes from residual energy. No vital signs from the motionless remains.
Unrecorded skill.
Name it.
Minced Slash.
Recorded as Minced Slash.
"......"
Dead silence. Kay could've ribbed me, but even she stayed quiet. A few seconds ticked by.
The scattered flesh twitched. I sighed.
Master.
Yeah.
Tough son of a bitch. Even the Six Paths goons would've died from that.
Boom! A crimson pillar erupted from the exploded corpse.
Transcendent Regeneration (SS+) activated.
"Kishirik!!!"
Scattered remains converged like drawn by gravity, body reforming in a blink—like time rewound. There it stood, smeared red like it'd been dipped in gochujang. It had burned its life force to force the regen.
Come on, enough already, you fuck. I popped another chocolate stick in my mouth.
This wasn't some invasion; why deploy a strategic nuke around snot-nosed kids?
Master. Core confirmed.
I saw it too.
Clear as day during regen: The pulsing orb buried in the flesh, like a heart. Complex runes etched on it, plus inscriptions boosting reactivity. Undoubtedly the power source and barrier nexus enveloping the area.
Having escaped death twice, it poured everything into survival. Its crumbling form screamed instability. The gochujang smear, the bellowing roars—it knew. No more regen left.
One fatal blow, and it was truly over.
Last one.
One final slash to end it all. I steadied my breath, drawing the crumbling blade to my waist.