Chapter 357
Chapter 357
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 357
Chapter Title: Representative Selection Tournament (3)
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The moment Lee Hyuk-soo fully gripped that sword, the air throughout the entire arena grew chillingly heavy.
It wasn't mere coldness.
It was a primal chill that seemed to suck in the life force of every living thing, evoking raw terror.
Crimson-red glows traced elegantly along the blade, and faint spatial distortions appeared to ripple around the sword.
"Oh ho."
A faint crack finally appeared in Yang Cheon-wi's previously confident expression.
His cherished blade, the Wind Thunder Blade, trembled ever so slightly, as if instinctively sensing the threat.
He had faced countless powerhouses and never flinched at relics or demon swords, but the sword before him now was on another level entirely.
It wasn't just a weapon—it felt like confronting a living catastrophe.
The representatives from various nations seated in the VIP section also hardened their expressions.
America's "Reaper" Johnson whistled in intrigue, but his eyes gleamed with uncharacteristic seriousness.
The European Union's "Valkyrie" Freya furrowed her brow, unable to tear her gaze from Lee Hyuk-soo's sword as she analyzed it.
These were people who had dissected every detail about Lee Hyuk-soo down to his bones.
They couldn't help but be thrown off by this unfamiliar blade.
The spectator stands buzzed with murmurs.
"Lee Hyuk-soo's sword... Did he have something like that?"
"It's definitely not the one he used before... What's with that ominous aura?"
Lingling swallowed dryly without realizing it.
Adora's eyes faintly gleamed from within her helmet.
'Baal's Sword. Can Lee Hyuk-soo in his current state truly wield its full power?'
Her gaze missed nothing—not the subtle shifts in his expression, nor the tremor in his sword hand.
Yang Cheon-wi licked his dry lips.
His heart pounded wildly.
Along with fear, an even fiercer battle lust and desire for conquest began to dominate his body.
If he could defeat Lee Hyuk-soo, his fame would pierce the heavens.
"Yes, that's more like it! That's the Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo I know! Come on, try taking on my Wind Thunder Blade with that eerie sword of yours!"
Yang Cheon-wi shouted with a fierce kiai, readjusting his stance once more.
This time, blue lightning exploded from his entire body like a burst, merging seamlessly with the Wind Thunder Blade.
His eyes bordered on madness.
Kwaaaang-!
With a thunderous boom, Yang Cheon-wi's body shot toward Lee Hyuk-soo like a bullet.
Dozens of lightning whips lashed from the tip of the Wind Thunder Blade, targeting Lee Hyuk-soo's entire body.
Lee Hyuk-soo's expression remained unchanged.
He lightly raised Baal's Sword.
As naturally as if it had always been part of his body.
And toward Yang Cheon-wi's storm-like sword strike, he simply swung down in the most straightforward manner.
Kaaaaang-!!!
With a deafening clash, something unimaginable occurred.
Yang Cheon-wi's Wind Thunder Blade—the legendary blade renowned for its durability—shattered like dry kindling the instant it met Baal's Sword.
No, it wasn't just broken.
Starting from the point of contact, spiderweb cracks spread across the entire blade in an instant, and the next moment, it exploded into shards like shattered glass, scattering everywhere.
Clang!
Shatter...!
The fragments of the ruined Wind Thunder Blade littered the arena floor in pathetic disarray.
"...!!!"
Yang Cheon-wi stood frozen in place, clutching only the broken hilt.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"My... my sword... in just one clash..."
His voice trembled like a thread.
His gaze darted anxiously between the broken hilt, the scattered fragments of the Wind Thunder Blade, and the nonchalant Lee Hyuk-soo with his ferocious demon sword.
The confidence built from seven crushing victories and his pride as the "War God" crumbled like a sandcastle in an instant.
Screeech... clunk.
The sound of someone slipping off their chair echoed.
It came from the Zhonghua Federation's official seats.
Those who had been chanting Yang Cheon-wi's name with unbridled fervor moments ago now sat pale as ghosts, mouths agape and frozen.
The cries of "Number One Under Heaven" had vanished.
The frenzied cheers that had blanketed the arena evaporated as if they were lies, replaced by suffocating silence.
The eyes of tens of thousands of spectators focused on one spot: the destroyed sword, its owner, and Lee Hyuk-soo standing like a triumphant overlord.
Crackle...
From Baal's Sword in Lee Hyuk-soo's hand, crimson demonic energy still rose like heat haze.
Like a living predator, it seemed to hum contentedly, mocking the essence it had just devoured from the Wind Thunder Blade.
Lee Hyuk-soo slowly raised his head to look at the dazed Yang Cheon-wi.
His gaze remained serene, devoid of any agitation or the arrogance of victory.
Just an indifferent stare, as if everything was only natural.
"..."
That indifference struck Yang Cheon-wi as a greater humiliation than any mockery.
He gripped the broken hilt tighter with trembling hands.
'This can't... This can't be happening! My Wind Thunder Blade! The martial arts I've devoted my life to, defeated by some unheard-of demon sword...!'
His reason tried to deny reality, but the brutal scene before him forced the cold truth upon him.
That was when it happened.
"Waaaaaaaaah!!!"
The cheers erupted from the Korean spectator section and spread across the entire arena in an instant.
At first, they were gasps of disbelief, but they quickly turned into ecstatic roars.
"Lee Hyuk-soo! Lee Hyuk-soo! That's the Sword King for you!"
"See that, you Chinese bastards? That's our Messiah's power!"
"That's the real Lee Hyuk-soo! Wielding a monster like that sword... He's on another level!"
Even the voices that had doubted Lee Hyuk-soo's group moments ago now brimmed with awe and reverence before this overwhelming sight.
Controversy be damned—the only thing that mattered now was one fact.
Lee Hyuk-soo was still in top form, possessing unmatched strength no one could rival.
"Has that proven it?"
Lee Hyuk-soo's single remark was the final nail in the coffin.
Yang Cheon-wi couldn't respond.
No, he couldn't.
All his pride and arrogance had scattered with the shattered sword fragments.
From the silent Zhonghua Federation cheering section, someone shouted in fury.
"Gear advantage! It's purely a difference in weapons!"
That cry sparked a chorus of similar shouts from all over, as if on cue.
"Right! Our Master Yang's Wind Thunder Blade was just no match for that freakish demon sword! It's not a loss of skill!"
"Bringing out an ominous sword like that's cheating from the start! That wasn't a fair fight!"
"Lee Hyuk-soo, so that's what you were doing while you vanished—hunting for cheat gear!"
Though bordering on excuses, these were raw outbursts from hearts unwilling to accept defeat.
They couldn't stomach their hero, victor of seven straight dominations, crumbling in one exchange.
Not to be outdone, immediate retorts exploded from the Korean stands.
"What the hell are they saying? Gear is part of skill, you idiots!"
"Jealous? Go get your own then! Must sting like hell, huh?"
"You think Brother Hyuk-soo was just chilling? Imagine the effort to gain that overwhelming power!"
"Still don't get that in the Abyss, gear rank equals skill level?"
A middle-aged Awakener bellowed, veins bulging in his neck.
"The Messiah's low profile was all for this moment! Time forging himself to new heights—something frogs in a well like you could never grasp!"
"Exactly! Look at that demon sword's aura! Think anyone can handle it? Controlling that's already beyond human limits!"
The arena heated up once more with verbal sparring between the two nations.
A fierce battle of wills raged over whether it was "gear advantage" or skill transcending even that.
Lingling watched the scene with a wry smile.
'Arguing over something so pointless.'
Gear obtained in the Abyss could only be worn by its acquirer.
The gear's level was set to match the user's at acquisition.
That was the Abyss's system.
Then what about the gear's rank?
'How many star Platinum Boxes did he have to open to get that?'
Only absurd feats granted high-star "Platinum Boxes."
A weapon like that would come from at least a 3-star Platinum Box, maybe more.
Lingling concluded firmly.
'The sword itself is Lee Hyuk-soo's level—and his skill.'
Anyone familiar with the Abyss system would reach the same thought.
Items from high-grade Platinum Boxes were beyond imagination, requiring commensurate—or greater—feats to obtain.
No way he got that ferocious demon sword for free.
The reason for Lee Hyuk-soo's absence.
Perhaps he had endured trials beyond anyone's imagination, all for this moment.
She glanced pityingly at her own cheering squad screaming "gear advantage."
Their cries sounded like a child's tantrum refusing defeat.
She glanced pityingly at her own cheering squad screaming "gear advantage."
Their cries sounded like a child's tantrum refusing defeat.
'Does that sword look like mere gear? Fools.'
The moment Lingling clicked her tongue inwardly.
"Again! Let's fight again! This match is invalid!"
Yang Cheon-wi, slumped on the ground, cried out in rage.
His hand clutching the broken hilt shook violently.
His eyes were bloodshot, filled with madness refusing to accept the loss.
"It's because of your damned demon sword! Let's have a fair rematch, Lee Hyuk-soo!"
But Lee Hyuk-soo showed no reaction to his outburst.
The match was decided; he felt no need to engage further.
He silently turned and headed back to the special viewing area.
That cold dismissal humiliated Yang Cheon-wi even more, but it stirred nothing in the current Lee Hyuk-soo.
The power he displayed was truly worthy of being called Korea's strongest force.
No—perhaps it was the closest any human had come to the pinnacle of existing humanity.
After Lee Hyuk-soo exited, the arena buzzed briefly before the organizing committee restored order and proceeded to the next matches.
Yang Cheon-wi was dragged out by Zhonghua Federation officials, his spot filled by fierce clashes from other nations' athletes.
Some named powerhouses showcased skills befitting their fame, drawing cheers, but they paled somewhat against Lee Hyuk-soo's overwhelming shock.
Time passed, and as the selection tournament's heat began to cool.
While everyone awaited the next big name or surprise rookie, an unexpected name appeared on the scoreboard as the next entrant.
[Republic of Korea Representative Team Special Advisor - Adora]
The arena stirred instantly.
"Adora? That helmeted woman next to Lee Hyuk-soo?"
"Finally, one of those 'parachute' picks is stepping up?"
"Wasn't even Korean to begin with?"
"Mercenary then?"
"Let's see if she's got the skills to justify crashing the party like that."
A mix of speculation, anticipation, and sneers turned toward the figure in the special viewing area.
Adora sat utterly still, her full body concealed by helmet and armor.
As if oblivious to the surrounding commotion.
Swish.
At last, she slowly rose from her seat.
Her movements were elegant like a scene from a meticulously staged play, yet carried an eerie aura.
No fanfare or dramatic entrance, but with each step toward the arena, all eyes were drawn inexorably to her.
Yet in the match that followed, the world was stunned once more—for reasons entirely different from Lee Hyuk-soo's.
Adora stood at the arena's center, still completely shrouded.
Her opponent was a mid-tier powerhouse from the European Union, fresh off an impressive winning streak.
As everyone held their breath, the match start signal rang out.
And then.
Nothing happened.
Or more precisely, Adora did absolutely nothing.
She simply stood there motionless.
But then.
"Aaaagh! No! S-save me!!"
The European Union fighter suddenly screamed, clutching his head.
His eyes were filled with terror, his body shaking like a leaf.
As if enduring unspeakable torture from some invisible force.
"Wha... what's going on? What happened?"
"She didn't do anything?"
The stands and commentary booth plunged into chaos simultaneously.
Adora remained perfectly still, with no signs of mana fluctuations or attacks around her.
Yet her opponent convulsed ever more violently.
He flailed at the air as if trying to shake off something, incoherent screams pouring from his mouth.
His eyes reflected vivid horror and the despair of facing something ineffable.
And moments later.
Thud.
The European Union fighter collapsed, foaming at the mouth and unconscious.
Adora stood in the same spot, unchanged from the start.
She had rendered her opponent combat-ineffective without lifting a finger.
Silence.
A chilling quiet descended over the arena, born of this incomprehensible phenomenon—different from the awe when Lee Hyuk-soo shattered the sword.