Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Swordmaster Rodan
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Ah, that crazy bastard?
Wait, what did I just say?
I definitely said "One-Eyed Sword," didn't I?
Eh, must've misheard.
How dare I call a monster who reached superhuman heights with just one sword...
Oh, and by the way—that guy, Rodan? It's best not to use "One-Eyed Sword" to his face.
People who don't know might think, "Huh, one eye's blind? That's why One-Eyed Sword!" But that name carries layers of meaning.
Rodan dueled his mother, the family head, when he left the clan. He lost one eye but managed to sever one of her arms.
One eye missing: "one." Took mother's arm down to one: "one." Father officially disowned him: "one."
Plus, his deranged personality left him without allies: "one." And he insists on using that toothless sword: "one."
Among all those meanings packed into the name, the only good one is the "sword"—signifying Swordmaster realm.
That's why the joke stuck. Every damn thing he does sparks questions and gripes from everyone: "Why?"
So, not "One-Eyed Sword," but "Why-Sword."
Ha ha, ha.
I know. Awful joke. I made the exact same face as you at first.
But it's undisputed fact.
Nowadays, "One-Eyed Sword" brings his lunatic exploits to mind before that blind eye.
Reason doesn't work on him.
And he revels in that reputation.
Can't be defined by common sense? Proof of his uniqueness, huh?
If you ever meet him, one thought will hit you:
What kind of freak is this?
Of course, don't let it show.
This madman rarely bothers assigning meaning to others.
Think about it. From his view, how boring must everyone else look?
Like roadside pebbles. That's why he kicks them around without a care.
Yeah. That's the key takeaway here.
Don't even piss in his direction.
The moment you cross paths, he'll kick you aside like nothing.
Damn, speaking from experience here.
-Crawling Library's Eloran <Dialogue Keyword: Seven Swords - One-Eyed Sword>
■ Dranov
Level:61 (65)Status:Maltel's Gift (Inactive), Mana Backflow
■ Rodan
Level:70 (68)
■ Dangleon
Level:32 (71)Status:???'s Aura (Active)
'What kind of freak is this?'
Rodan thought despite himself as he surveyed the scene before him.
-That gaze! Such insolence toward my precious master! If not for this wretched form, you'd be crawling the dirt, begging for mercy by now, you worm!
"Calm down, Dangleon."
-But look at those eyes! Daring to-
"No. I'm the one feeling threatened here, so stop provoking him."
-Is that so? It doesn't look like he's threatened in my eyes, but if my precious master says so!!!
The blazing black flame, Dangleon.
Rodan mulled over the name for a moment.
To confirm if his memory was accurate.
If it was, that name had come up from Dranov, the high priest of the White Shadow Church he was collaborating with.
The heretics from another faction they planned to use for this ritual, and the demon those heretics served—Dangleon.
So why was the orb sealing that Dangleon in that man's hand?
Fine. That much he could accept.
'But he's... following a human?'
Demon worshiper.
A perfectly natural phrase.
Arrogant demons place all beings beneath them.
But human follower demon?
What the hell? Why would that even exist? Sounds wrong just saying it.
Aren't they immortal beings who won't yield even to death?
What did he do to make that happen?
"Huff...!"
Shakan, whose throat Rodan had gripped, gasped for air. Rodan had unconsciously released his hold.
A conversation between a human and a human follower demon had momentarily robbed a Swordmaster of control over his own body.
Power bordering on divine authority.
Rodan stood dazed until Shakan slunk back to his spot, glancing warily.
"You okay?"
Rishir cautiously asked Shakan as he approached.
"Yeah, thanks to you."
"I didn't do anything."
Rishir gave a wry smile.
The vast gap in level, stark even in that brief clash.
He mocked his own powerlessness—he could only stand by while those three titans fought.
"No..."
The three exchanged complex glances at Rishir.
Isn't it all because of you?
Just then, as the tension eased from Dangleon and Rishir's exchange...
"Urk...!"
Dranov's groan reached their ears as he steadied himself.
His tangled mana from the backflow was stabilizing in real time.
The three titans' faces twisted savagely.
He'd abandoned all defense and vigilance to focus purely on recovery.
With Rodan holding the front, he exuded utter confidence that the three wouldn't dare act rashly.
Even as Rodan pondered silently, Dranov's presence relentlessly bore down on them.
Strike at that opening now, and instant retaliation would follow.
But what if the target was Dranov?
Eliminate Dranov, and Rodan's blade would surely turn on them.
Punish them for killing White Shadow Church members? Illogical, but rumors painted One-Eyed Sword as capable of anything.
In that case...
Could Rishir persuade One-Eyed Sword?
-Shifting such heavy responsibility to that young mage. Unacceptable.
A voice echoed from within.
-Rishir!!!
Another inner voice overrode it.
Reason to choose companions carefully.
These titans, who rose through relentless rational choices, now devolved into primal beings chanting those three letters at death's door.
Intervention by an off-spec entity!
The situation was hopeless—thus demanding bolder action.
After a glance exchange, they scattered.
The flame sorcerer and demon hunter launched optimal strikes from wide angles.
Shakan blocked Rodan's path.
A textbook maneuver: "Even a Swordmaster can't interfere!"
And they executed it flawlessly—the ideal play, as if they'd trained together.
No one watching would guess they'd just synced up today.
The only issue: the Swordmaster's response far exceeded their expectations.
"Hup...!"
Shakan's breath caught abruptly.
A speed surpassing her fully tensed senses.
Her white hair fluttered before the beastkin's sharpened pupils.
The Swordmaster was already upon her.
Defense was possible.
In other words, defense was all she could manage.
The moment she assumed stance, a familiar sensation hit.
-Boom!
The beastkin flew from the Swordmaster's kick once more.
Unlike before, she shed the impact and held form—but
"Shaka—"
At her trajectory's end stood the flame sorcerer, spell just completed.
The harpoon of flame meant for Dranov slammed into the beastkin.
-Boom!
Flames engulfed them both.
Elsewhere, the demon hunter's special bolt hurtled toward the high priest's brow.
Perfectly on track—until it veered off suddenly.
"What...!"
A single pebble had struck it midair.
He'd held it in his hand all along.
Why carry a damn pebble?
The answer came swiftly.
"Gahk!"
Like shrapnel from an explosion.
A barrage of pebbles hurled from the Swordmaster pelted the demon hunter everywhere.
Instinctively channeling mana to vitals spared lethal wounds—but not the rest.
His left pinky snapped off; one ear tore free.
Bursts from his body—pebbles? Skin rupturing? Bones cracking? Indistinguishable amid the agony.
Full-body torment.
Staying conscious was her limit.
The demon hunter retreated into defense instead of pressing attack.
"Cough! Damn it, Balrod! You alright!?"
"You should worry about yourself..."
The flame sorcerer and beastkin warrior fared no better.
Step. Step.
Rodan strolled leisurely to Dranov's side.
Casually kicked the stone floor. Once. Twice. Thrice.
A pit formed. He bent, scooping a handful of gravel.
The three titans found terror in that trivial act.
Facing three foes, the Swordmaster felt no need for his blade.
Absurdly sturdy body, absurdly vast mana. That sufficed.
Unreasonable might born of personal feats, reaching superhuman realm. Violence.
One exchange made it undeniable; their stances shifted.
They'd never dreamed of full combat—but now it was certain.
Avoid all-out war with the Swordmaster.
Even escape offered no survival guarantee.
But how?
The choice wasn't theirs.
It belonged to—
-You bastard!!! Who dares speak of safety!!!
"..."
...who again?
The taut atmosphere slackened once more at Dangleon's roar.
The Swordmaster stood speechless, staring at the gray energy churning in the orb.
-You, human swordsman! Even as my precious master extends mercy, you still cling to that filthy, vile demon worshiper?
"No—"
You can't call demon worshipers that.
Rodan nearly objected on reflex.
"For now, shouldn't I keep my options open?"
And excused himself unwittingly.
Normal Rodan would've crushed or killed everyone but Dranov without a word.
But the human follower demon and his off-spec master disrupted rational thought.
How to think straight with embodiments of irrationality right there?
"You—something about 'precious master'?"
"Rishir!"
"Yeah, Rishir. Prove you can help me. Then I'll trust you."
-You brainless worm! Has that pathetic demon worshiper given you certainty? Can you bear it if my precious master withdraws favor due to your arrogance?!
"Rishir!"
-Precious master! Permit no more of his insolence!
'Ugh.'
What can you do if I don't?
Rishir swallowed his retort, playing along with Dangleon in exasperation.
From observation, brazenness beat humility here.
"No. There's no guarantee that demon worshiper can truly help him, as you say. I want to save him from the clutches of that evil demon."
-As expected of my precious master!!! Yes! Only you can save that blind worm from evil demonic grasp!
"I'll give it a shot."
Hell yeah. And amen.
From anyone else, empty bluster.
But from the one who turned a demon into such a devout human follower? Different vibe.
"Hmm..."
Rodan—and even the three titans—wavered at the human follower demon and his master's words.
"Rodan—gahk!"
Dranov, fed up, abandoned recovery and bellowed.
Mana tangled again; blood poured from every facial orifice. He ignored it.
If he must risk death to speak against a demon worshiper, now was the time.
"No need to heed that lunatic's drivel! That's not Dangleon!"
-Bastard!!! You dare deny me?!
"You're denying yourself—cough! Aren't you?! Where's your demonic pride, wagging your tail for a mere human?!"
-A wretch like you, unable to master your own desires, can't comprehend!
"No, you spewing that—cough! Gahk! Urk!!!"
Mental chaos accelerated the mana backflow.
His painstaking recovery unraveled worse than before.
The demon worshiper, who'd clung to reason till the end, finally snapped.
This way, the Swordmaster falling for those lunatics' sweet talk was inevitable.
Strike first.
Stab!
Something pierced Dranov's thigh.
A black-bladed dagger from his bosom.
He didn't stop—stabbed himself everywhere, feeding it blood.
Dark energy swirled within the blade.
The seal stone binding demon Maltel.
-That's...! Precious master! Stop him! He's trying to manifest the Scream that Cleaves the Forest!
Rare panic and fear laced Dangleon's voice.
The demon worshiper now substituted countless rites and sacrifices with himself.
For most, demon worship was mere means to power.
Dranov too. Thus, this act was utter perversion.
What good is demon power if you're devoured?
Dranov didn't care.
One conviction drove him: this would doom them worst.
Great Maltel, unlike those fools, would remember his devotion.
And grant mercy accordingly.
Take his power and flesh? Provide another vessel.
The Swordmaster, sensing wrongness, belatedly twisted Dranov's wrist—but too late.
'Scream that Cleaves the Forest...! Let your faithful servant ignite!!!'
His cry had reached the demon.
Greedy demons never miss such chances.
"!!!"
Leisure vanished from the Swordmaster's face.
He retreated from Dranov with uncharacteristically hasty moves.
Tossed the pebbles wildly. Empty hand reached for his waist sword.
Suddenly, the room thickened with humid air.
Dense, sticky dark energy swept through.
Like rolling prey in its mouth with its tongue.
Soon, Dranov's spilled blood animated, painting his body.
Veins bulging outside skin, or conifer needles sprouting from blood.
"Rodan... curse your carelessness..."
The demon worshiper burst into vengeful laughter.
The savoring ended.
The demon decided.
-Drip.
-Splat.
"...?"
The blood painting his skin lost form and collapsed.
The demon decided.
No resurrection here.
Black aura on the dagger dispersed.
Maltel abandoned most power, shifting ego to another seal stone elsewhere.
The demon worshiper's body shuddered.
Blood gushed fiercer from his self-inflicted wounds.
"You trash!!! You crawling vermin!!! I-I will become the demon and deny your existences-!!!"
His body crumpled.
Cause: mana backflow, self-harm bleeding, blood pressure surge.
His curse? Aimed at demons.
"..."
Tension filled the Swordmaster's eyes.
He turned to Rishir.
"...!"
The three titans hurriedly blocked Rishir.
Avenging the demon worshiper meant to aid him? One-Eyed Sword Rodan would.
And Rodan realized.
"Guess relying on a demon worshiper really was insane."
No more demon worshiper aid meant no persuasion leverage for Rishir.
As the three braced for One-Eyed Sword's whims...
"Help..."
One-Eyed Sword mumbled awkwardly.
To the human follower demon and his master.
"Ah."
The three nodded in understanding.