Chapter 144
Chapter 144
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: Storm Surge
Storm Surge.
Hero.
It was also one of the chosen.
A being selected by the goddess.
However, that meaning had long since been corrupted.
Humans, or other races, held competitions against each other to select them from there.
'What a joke.'
Chosen one.
One of the three families guarding the World Tree.
Loran, a member of Dark Moon, gazed at the man designated as the Thief Hero with shadowed eyes.
He wasn't officially confirmed as the Thief Hero yet.
But talk from the higher-ups was already leaning toward passing him.
'Why the hell a mere human.'
Purple eyes.
They said he had black hair, but for some reason, he sported snow-white locks.
A face so captivating it could mesmerize at a glance.
'What a shame.'
He had to die.
The first sacrifice needed to fulfill their karma.
Loran had stepped forward himself, figuring since he liked the face, he'd preserve it as a trophy.
'Running away?'
Then again, unlike elves who only birthed superior females, other races kept churning out frail males.
A few exceptional ones stood out, but males were mostly weak.
Steeped in elven supremacy, Loran sneered at Han Yuseong's attempt to flee.
But that notion shattered soon enough.
'What...'
Too fast.
Not just the speed—his movement mirrored her kin's so closely.
'...Riding the wind's grain?'
No, more like.
Brutishly trampling the wind itself.
Opposite approach, similar outcome.
'How could a human...?'
Loran squinted, tracking Han Yuseong's path.
After a brief chase.
A strange dissonance crept in.
'Their numbers are dropping.'
The elven pursuit team's count had dwindled.
She first assumed stragglers from ramping up speed.
Flash!
A black-glinting streak burst an elf's head before vanishing.
A strike of utter terror.
'...'
Loran's eyes grew icy.
Not Level 7 yet.
No telltale aura of one who had achieved unity.
'Unity is still distant.'
Even so.
Having already made an enemy of him, she had to kill him somehow.
If he reached unity later, she'd be the one in peril.
'Tried to pluck a wart and ended up with a tumor.'
A bitter smile tugged at her lips as Loran finally moved in earnest.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ -They've made up their minds.
'About what?'
-To kill you by any means.
'Yeah, they looked at me like they wanted to from the start.'
-They underestimated you. Typical for blind, dim-witted fools.
The holy sword chuckled.
Yet beneath it lurked quiet concern.
-What now? That one's a united Level 7.
'United?'
-Simply put, it's when body, mind, and mana fuse into perfect balance. That's what sets Level 7s apart.
'How big a gap?'
-In combat power terms... at least three times stronger, minimum.
'...'
An absurd disparity in power.
Luckily, that elf specialized in ranged combat.
Suddenly, a horrifying surge of mana prickled the air.
Goosebumps erupted on his back; his senses screamed to evade.
This was bad.
He dove straight down, unleashing full speed in an instant.
-Dodge!
The holy sword's urgent cry.
Instinct urged Ethereal Step, but intuition whispered it wouldn't cut it.
He had confidence dodging anything up close.
'But this trajectory's different.'
Leaping with all his might, he invoked the Storm Giant's power to launch himself airborne.
And just like that.
KABOOM!
A white flash grazed past him, pulverizing everything in its path.
'...What the hell was that.'
-Even I can't say. Unity manifests differently for each of the hundred who achieve it. One thing's certain: that elf poured full output into a one-shot finisher.
That much was enough for now.
He eyed the devastation left by the white beam.
Fleeing into the woods had been a mistake.
'Was it?'
The forest was visibly gouged—a tunnel punched clean through.
'What kind of range...'
At least fifty meters in diameter.
Anything even brushing the beam's width wouldn't leave bones behind.
-That's unity's hallmark. A united Level 7 towers over a non-united one like heaven over earth. Might take three non-united to even the odds.
'...'
Could he beat a monster like that?
'No, cut the weak thoughts.'
His task was to take that elf down.
It wasn't impossible.
Post-beam, the elf's movements had visibly slowed.
She'd burned serious mana.
'But escaping just got trickier for me.'
Range was the issue.
He could shake pursuit if he committed to flight.
But if she sniped from afar.
And if he had allies caught in the crossfire.
'Gotta end her.'
Right here.
Before she could flee.
Dozens of elves reduced to a mere twenty.
And the most dangerous one.
'Still winded.'
This was his window.
He inhaled deeply.
Drew his bow and arrows.
If they clustered, it'd be easy pickings.
'But one by one it is.'
Later, even one united elf would be a nightmare.
As he drew the string.
"...!"
Scree!
Something sliced the air toward his head. A razor-sharp blade aura.
He aborted the shot, snapping his head down.
"Sharp, huh?"
A taunting laugh echoed from behind.
-...We're in deep shit.
'Tell me about it.'
Attack from the rear, but he knew without looking.
Level 7.
Another one like the beam elf had flanked him.
He'd weathered crises before.
But this felt off.
'...Can I survive?'
Archers he could lose.
But add this swordmaster.
'This is bad.'
Teeth gritted, he assumed stance. Already on the back foot—sloppy footing would doom him.
Scree.
Air slicing.
No—the wind itself morphed into blades slashing his throat.
He jerked aside desperately; his cheek stung.
"Dodged that too? Felt it when you evaded Loran while fleeing... You sense the wind."
An amused chuckle.
Obvious at a glance: a battle junkie.
He locked into stance, scrutinizing his attacker.
A silver-haired elf woman, hair tousled.
Blue-glowing eyes, light garb. A longsword gleaming azure.
"Oh? What's this? Thought human faces all blended together, but you pop out a stunner."
Her eyes widened, admiring his looks.
But the crushing pressure didn't lift.
Intimidation.
Usable only by those with true fighting spirit.
'Wait, isn't intimidation supposed to be rare?'
-...
'How's every tom, dick, and harry slinging it.'
He scowled, summoning his own.
Spirit countered spirit.
"Oh, this guy's..."
Gift: Overlord.
It crushed the opponent's spirit, seizing the space.
"Whoa."
Her eyes quivered with ecstasy.
A faint smile, half-mad gaze.
"What's your name?"
"What for?"
"We all know it's Han Yuseong."
"... "
"Man, such a waste to kill."
"Then don't."
"Sorry, can't do that."
Fucking bitch.
-Calm down.
'...Right.'
Maybe the unavoidable death closing in.
He'd snapped without thinking.
"I'm Sylvern. Sadly, not one of the World Tree's three guardian families."
"... "
"I hear your eyes rolling. Won't save you."
"Who put you up to it?"
"Can't say."
"Who ordered the hit."
"Sorry, can't. Literal binding curse."
Sylvern said it with genuine regret.
He shut his eyes, then opened them.
Fine. Death was fated anyway.
'Sword, what now?'
-I'll scrape together whatever odds I can.
The holy sword's voice tensed.
Maximum odds.
That instant, he sensed the Level 7 archer targeting him from 100 meters back.
"Loran, sorry—hold on a sec."
"You crazy bitch. Know who sent you?"
"Yeah, but what a waste."
"... "
Small mercy.
One at a time.
'...Possible?'
No—had to be.
He steeled himself.
Abandon hope here, and nothing changes.
'Still got cards unplayed.'
If worst came.
He'd tap Steal Strike's unused function.
"Don't fuck around. We kill him now."
Loran, half-mad eyes nocked on him.
He glanced at Sylvern.
As the elf named Loran threw her tantrum, Sylvern shrugged helplessly and met his gaze.
"Sorry about this. Dying by my hand's at least honorable."
"... "
He drew the Thunder Dragon Sword.
Drew the holy sword.
-One shot. Paecheon straight through the front.
'Then...'
As he moved to hand off the blade.
An eerie sensation hit.
Thump.
His heart pounded.
-Hm? Wait—backup here?
'...'
The moment attacks converged from both flanks.
KABOOM!!
A ferocious gale erupted. It devoured the surroundings, birthing a storm. Then a torrent that swallowed all.
"...!"
"Who the hell...!"
He relaxed, gripping his sword.
'Sword, save Paecheon.'
-Looks like it.
He leveled his blade at Sylvern.
Fortune smiled—the ally synced with him, taking position at his back.
Grrrrr.
Less human growl.
More like a rabid hound.
Laden with thick killing intent.
"The Beast King's daughter, Cheong Yurang—why...!"
"You crazy pointy-eared fucks."
Cheong Yurang snarled.
But her voice turned cold as she addressed him.
"Can you hold out till I sink my fangs into that elf's neck, master?"
Half-resigned, she'd never looked so endearing.
He flashed a grin.
"All day if needed."