Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: One Minute and Twenty Seconds
-----------------------------------------------------------------
An arrow, tearing through the air, caught the sunlight and glinted a brilliant silver.
At the unsettling whistle of the wind, the Sword Saint paused his swing and turned his head.
A massive arrowhead was flying straight for the Sword Saint's head.
A snipe from an Overlord, fired from outside his field of view.
An ordinary soldier wouldn't have even had time to react, their head crushed before they even realized an arrow was coming.
Even an exceptional soldier would have had their head smashed the moment they noticed the arrow, and even one bordering on the first-rate would have been unable to properly counter, given the exquisite timing and circumstances of the shot.
After all, the Sword Saint was in the middle of extending his blade to finish off Raguel.
Ariel's arrow had been timed perfectly, aimed for the precise moment a person's consciousness was focused on "attack."
Moreover, the Sword Saint's body was suspended in mid-air, with no discernible foothold nearby.
'Exquisite.'
At first, he considered using his sword to parry the arrow. Soon after, however, the Sword Saint changed his mind.
'…This arrow carries considerable force. If I deflect it, how far will the recoil send me?'
On the ground, he could have parried the arrow and absorbed the shock with his legs, but that wasn't an option in the air.
Even if he managed a perfect parry, the Sword Saint would be thrown far from the center of the battlefield.
'If I parry it at this angle, my body will be launched much higher. It'll take at least three seconds to get back.'
Three seconds.
The moment he parried that arrow, the Sword Saint would be forcibly removed from the battle for three seconds.
For some, it might not be enough time to even get back on their feet, but for an Overlord, it was more than enough time to finish regenerating and escape from the heart of the battle.
He couldn't meet the arrow head-on.
'Dodging is the better option.'
Once his thoughts reached a conclusion, his body moved without hesitation.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he kicked off the empty air, twisting his trajectory. The arrow, flying like a shot, merely grazed his hair.
Whoosh—!
The sound of the chilling wind swept past the Sword Saint's eyes.
“…You crazy bastard!”
While the Sword Saint performed his acrobatics to dodge the arrow, most of Raguel's damaged body had already regenerated. Displaying the fearsome regenerative speed befitting an Overlord, Raguel swung his long claws at the Sword Saint's neck.
The Sword Saint, looking completely unimpressed, swung his blade and once again severed Raguel's arms and legs.
Even as he swung his sword, the Sword Saint's gaze wasn't on Raguel.
Belatedly, the sonic boom created by the arrow's immense speed echoed across the battlefield.
“…”
From the moment the arrow flew past, the Sword Saint's eyes had been busy tracing its trajectory. Raguel cursed at the Sword Saint for looking elsewhere while he was right in front of him, but the words didn't reach his ears.
'Found him.'
Soon, he located the pitch-black shadow hiding behind a muddy hill.
The instant his eyes met the Sword Saint's, Overlord Ariel felt his entire body freeze in an unknown terror.
He was a full two kilometers away from the Sword Saint.
Even with the mist cleared and the battlefield brightly lit by the sun, to pinpoint the location of a sniper concealed by shadows and a hill in a single glance…
It was not the observational skill of a normal human.
'Raguel has lost all his forces. He's not smart, and his skills are substandard. I can kill him whenever I want. But what about that sniper?'
The Sword Saint's mind never stopped, not even for an instant.
He was skilled enough to dominate the battlefield by relying on instinct alone, but the Sword Saint sought a way to resolve this situation with minimal losses and in the shortest time possible.
'According to the reports, he's shrouded in shadows, making him nearly impossible to spot with the naked eye. I might not be able to locate him so easily for his next shot.'
Next, the Sword Saint's eyes scanned the battlefield. He remained unfazed even as giant, venomous masses of flesh rained down from above.
'On top of that, that Overlord still has plenty of forces under his command. He is clearly a greater threat than Raguel.'
Calmness, composure, and prudence.
'Revising priorities.'
The moment his thoughts reached a conclusion, his body moved swiftly.
The Sword Saint reached for Raguel's head. He grabbed it, then planted both feet on Raguel's chest and kicked off hard.
The Sword Saint's body plummeted toward the ground, and Raguel's chest shattered, a rose of blood and bone blooming in the air.
The pitch-black core hidden deep within Raguel's chest was momentarily exposed.
'The most troublesome one on this battlefield is that sniper.'
Flesh and bone began to grow haphazardly around the half-destroyed chest, attempting to conceal the core.
Seeing the grotesque mass of flesh tangling behind the rose of blood and bone, the Sword Saint's face twisted in disgust.
Thud!
The next moment, the Sword Saint's feet struck the hardened ground, creating a massive impact.
Leaving a spray of debris in his wake, he kicked off the ground and began sprinting toward Ariel.
“…Damn it.”
The vision of Ariel, the demon wreathed in shadows, momentarily turned black. The very word 'death' was rushing toward him at a terrifying speed from two kilometers away.
Every living being has its strengths and weaknesses.
And Ariel's strengths were his outstanding concentration and marksmanship, allowing him to accurately target a foe's neck from tens of kilometers away, and the pitch-black darkness that safely concealed his body.
However, even Ariel, the demon race's greatest sniper, had his weaknesses.
A sniper's life depends on their ability to conceal and take cover. When the Demon King created the Overlord named Ariel, he gifted him with special skin that allowed him to hide in shadows and immense tensile strength to better perform his assigned duty of 'sniping.'
But every evolution comes at a price. In exchange for his special skin and immense tensile strength, Ariel lost his mana and the ability to fly.
Ariel's entire purpose for existing was, after all, 'sniping.'
'Got you.'
In a direct confrontation, Ariel was far below the average Overlord.
“Fight!”
Ariel simultaneously dragged up the countless mutants he had buried at his feet as guards.
Horrific creatures, stitched together from giant mushrooms, old trees, and countless fish, charged at the Sword Saint.
Snick.
A light, feeble sound rang out.
The Sword Saint's slender blade had already been swung. Countless masses of flesh rushed him, baring their teeth and claws to overwhelm him, but he showed no sign of wavering.
He simply unleashed a flurry of strikes at the Overlord hidden within the black mist.
The slender, silver blade tore through the black shadow. The Sword Saint's hand was filled with the sensation of rending flesh and bone.
In less than a second, the Sword Saint had swung his blade fifty-one times.
Normally, he would have focused on pinpointing the core's location by comparing the regeneration speeds of different body parts. However, because Ariel was shrouded in shadow, it was difficult to discern the subtle differences in the speed at which his severed body parts regenerated.
The method he had used to locate cores until now was ineffective.
Therefore, the Sword Saint decided to dismantle Ariel into pieces smaller than a knuckle.
It was inefficient and a far greater waste of stamina, but his instincts told him it was the best way.
And so, upon roughly the 102nd strike, the Sword Saint felt the sensation of cutting through something other than flesh and bone—something foreign.
He stopped the two-second-long barrage and flicked the blood from his blade.
Silence.
It filled the battlefield, leaving no space untouched.
A chill that traced its way down the spine visited demon and allied soldier alike, without discrimination.
Toward the single human dominating this battlefield, every living creature began to feel a mixture of awe and terror.
“That's one.”
One minute and twenty seconds.
Barely one minute and twenty seconds had passed since the Sword Saint's arrival in Vellaland.
Overlord Ariel was dead.
***
Ariel's death left a deep impression on everyone on the battlefield.
To the continental army and the generals commanding them, it brought courage and hope. To the high lords and mutants under Ariel's command, a futile end. And to his fellow Overlords, fear and despair.
“Ariel is dead. We don't have much time.”
The Overlord Maltiel, who had been watching Ariel's death from afar, let out a low sigh.
“Mikael, what's the analysis?”
“It's definitely a special school of magic… but I can't tell more than that. It'll take at least ten minutes to analyze it and find a counter.”
Among the nine Overlords, Mikael was particularly knowledgeable about magic and the arcane.
Even among the demons who wielded incomprehensible magic, the spells Mikael used had especially unique and complex circuits.
“In ten minutes, that monster will have killed us all three times over. We'd best abandon the idea of punching a hole in the barrier. Is there another way? You're far more knowledgeable about magic than I am, aren't you?”
Maltiel asked Mikael, his tone irritable, as if growing impatient.
At this rate, it wouldn't be long before they met the same end as Ariel.
“…Bel is certainly an exceptional mage. But the perfection and range of this barrier are excessive. He must be taking on some kind of risk.”
“And that risk is?”
“His brain is probably burning out in real time. He must be maintaining some incredibly complex magical calculations even now.”
“With Grisha by his side, his brain burning out is hardly a significant factor. She'll just heal it as soon as it melts.”
“That's what I'm telling you. The perfection and range of this barrier… are 'excessive.'”
Mikael continued, his expression full of irritation, showing that he, too, was growing impatient.
“The magic surrounding us isn't something that can be manifested by simply risking a melting brain. There must be other risks involved.”
“And you haven't been able to pinpoint what that risk is?”
“I have not.”
Mikael answered bluntly.
“But you're certain a risk exists?”
“I am certain. And a very dangerous kind of risk, at that.”
Hearing Mikael's confident words, Maltiel momentarily twisted his lips into a nasty smile.
“I'm not fond of gambling, but…”
Born first among the nine Overlords, the mind of this monster who had survived the longest was filled with countless tactics and strategies.
“It's far better than just sitting around waiting to die.”
And so, even in this desperate situation with death at his doorstep, the monster began to move, seeking the most efficient option with the highest probability of survival.