Chapter 489: The Virgin Master and the Perverted Disciple (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 489: The Virgin Master and the Perverted Disciple (7)
Son Si-woo was different from Kim Do-jin.
Unlike Kim Do-jin, who possessed a versatile array of powers, he was born with nothing.
All he could do was work hard.
Even his reason for picking up the sword was laughably trivial.
Weapons shattered one after another, unable to withstand the daily battles. To deal with this, the government mass-produced equipment like crazy, and among them, swords were the cheapest.
Whatever the reason, he never let go of the sword he held. Not for a single day, from the moment he started his life as a Hunter until his body was swapped.
From the brink of death.
From the seniors who walked the path before him.
From the enemies who exposed his weaknesses.
It was a constant cycle of having the path he’d walked be denied, only to rebuild it again.
His entire life was forged in that process.
His beloved partner, his daughter more precious than life itself, and the ardent attention of the public.
Although his physical limitations prevented him from standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the world's top Hunters, he was certain of one thing.
His swordsmanship, honed and refined over a lifetime, could easily rival their greatest strengths.
“Khk…?!”
Angela, having retreated a good distance, flinched slightly and grimaced.
Her questioning gaze turned toward me.
“My body suddenly feels heavy… What did you do? Was it magic?”
I shook my head.
The doubt in her eyes deepened.
“If it’s not magic… then what is this…?”
“Who knows.”
The price he paid for saving the country was immense.
Permanent damage to his mana circuits.
Because of it, his growth was stunted.
All that remained was a relentless decline.
After struggling endlessly in a flood of despair, he finally accepted it.
The fact that it was time to leave his past glory behind, let everything go, and move on.
But that time was not now.
Whether he wanted it or not, he was the hope that carried the people’s expectations on his shoulders.
That’s why he fought to descend as slowly as possible, even if just for one more day.
Until someone or some group appeared to take his place.
So, while spurring on the growth of promising talents within the guild, he also paid close attention to his own path.
How could he buy just a little more time?
After long deliberation, he found an answer.
The one power that allowed him to keep moving forward, even with a body destined only to decline.
That was the sword.
“Even with her power output limited, keeping up with Angela’s strength and speed is a tall order, isn’t it?”
“So?”
He would polish his swordsmanship even further.
Make each and every strike heavier, sharper.
With that single-minded focus, he whipped his deteriorating body, pushing himself to run and run again.
And then he hit another wall.
What good was it if each attack was heavy and swift when his slowing body couldn’t land a single hit?
So he thought.
“Since I can’t get any faster right now, what choice do I have? I have to make the enemy slower.”
He decided to make his opponent, his enemy, slow down to match his own body, which could no longer get any faster.
Hearing this, a look of doubt crossed her face.
“Is… that even possible?”
“I wondered the same thing.”
In fact, even after coming up with the idea, he was half in doubt.
Was it possible for a swordsman, not a mage, to slow an opponent’s movements?
But.
“Turns out, it worked.”
“……”
Overwhelm the surroundings with an intense aura to pressure the opponent. An incredibly heavy aura, born of mastery, would ensnare the opponent, weighing down their body. That was the essence of this ability, which he didn’t know whether to call swordsmanship or a skill…
But now that I could see mana, I understood.
“Aura, my ass.”
It wasn’t simply pressing down on the opponent with something like an aura or fighting spirit.
What was used was mana.
A mana of a completely different color from the usual was surrounding and pressuring her.
“…What is that color?”
A dark blue, almost black.
It had a different feel from the ultramarine blue used by the guy who attacked with shadows. Having devoured that mana, I could feel the difference even more clearly.
The ultramarine mana was a bit lighter but had high viscosity, while the dark blue was heavier but had low viscosity.
Seeing this, I realized one of the secrets surrounding mana.
“The color…”
Could it be that different properties are added depending on the color of the mana?
For a moment, I wrestled with the thread of a clue that was tantalizingly just out of reach.
“You’re really amazing.”
Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
“This feeling… it’s a first for me. To think your swordsmanship is even more incredible than your magic…!”
Her face was flushed red as she let out a voice full of admiration.
“Alright. Just as you wish, I won’t move a single step from this spot. So come on, bring it!” Angela declared, licking her lips with her long tongue.
It wasn’t the arrogance of thinking she could face me head-on.
It was more like she just wanted to put a period on it.
By raising that last, missing degree through this one attack.
“Alright.”
There was no backing down in a situation like this.
I readjusted my grip on the sword and moved forward.
When I was moving so fast that afterimages of the background streaked over the fixed scenery, I came face-to-face with her as she radiated an intense fighting spirit.
I threw myself toward her as she stood with her legs spread wide, shield held out in front.
“Hyaaaah!”
“Hmph…!”
My shoulder collided with the shield.
CRACK!
Unable to withstand the impact amplified by my acceleration, the shield shattered into pieces.
At the same time, a mace came crashing down toward my head.
The sword must be used only for attack, so I took a perilous risk.
Just as the mace was about to hit my helmet, I jerked my head to divert its path.
SKRRRAAPE!
The helmet was shaved away with a gruesome sound.
CRACK!
Unable to endure the sudden change and pressure, the helmet finally made a wretched sound and fell apart.
With that, all I had left was a single sword.
On the other hand, she still had her mace, helmet, and a half-broken suit of armor.
I calmly took my turn to attack.
Now free of my helmet, I threw my head back and then slammed it forward in a vicious headbutt.
CRACK!
“Damn…!”
Unable to withstand the mana enveloping my forehead, her helmet shattered.
The silky hair contained within cascaded down like a waterfall.
A momentarily obscured view.
For me, it was a perfect opportunity; for her, a crisis.
But who was it that said it?
A crisis is an opportunity, and an opportunity is a crisis.
“You wish!”
A situation that looks like an obvious opportunity means an attack is almost certain.
Taking advantage of this, her mace rushed to strike the sword I’d thrust toward her armor.
If this continued, my sword would be shattered before its tip even touched her armor.
“This is the end!”
I wonder if she knows.
That the moment she breaks my sword, the development of our relationship also ends here.
She probably doesn’t.
The reason or meaning behind this battle has long since vanished from her mind.
I met her gaze, confident of her victory, and smiled.
Didn’t I say it before?
“Too soon.”
An opportunity is also a crisis.
I had faith.
That I could counter the first crisis, no matter what.
The sword, which had been moving straight for her armor, changed its path abruptly.
Its linear movement became curvilinear.
One curve soon drew dozens more, blurring the air.
Angela was flustered by this.
“Ah…!”
Not missing the opening, my sword slid up the head of her mace, locked onto it, and then dragged it down.
CLANG!
Firmly caught by my sword, the mace fell to the ground.
At the same time, I reached out my hand.
My target was the crack in her armor, created from my victory in our first clash.
I shoved my hand deep into it.
Facing her look of utter dismay, I roughly ripped at the armor with my arm.
KRR-R-RIP!
As if waiting for this moment, the armor broke into pieces along the cracks and fell away.
I asked her, now disarmed.
“Is this hot enough for you?”
“Huh? Uh, uh…”
With a dazed look on her face, she nodded and finally declared her defeat.
*
Sshaaaaa—
Standing under the stream of water pouring from the showerhead, she recalled what had just happened.
She had lost.
Completely, without any room for excuses.
It was a fight with restrictions, but she had been confident.
After all, S-rank Hunter wasn’t a title you could get just by having high stats.
Technically and strategically, she was undoubtedly formidable.
It was just that her opponent had been even more so.
In skill, and even in the battle of wits.
‘How can this be…?’
She felt as if she’d been possessed by a ghost.
A rookie Hunter with only three or four years of experience being so good at strategy.
“This… doesn’t make any sense.”
It was so unbelievable that for a moment, she even had the illusion she was fighting a veteran who had survived as a Hunter for decades.
That’s how masterful his swordsmanship and his strategies were.
The image of him ripping off her armor came to mind.
“Ngh…!”
At the same time, a thrill spread through her entire body.
“Hah, hah…!”
Her breathing grew ragged, and her body heated up.
Bright red.
Hot enough that she could be molded into any shape her opponent desired.
“……”
Click!
She turned off the shower, drew on her mana to dry herself, and covered her body with a robe hanging on the wall.
“Hoo…”
And after taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out of the shower.
The studio apartment inside the workshop had been her residence for the past few months.
Kim Do-jin was sitting on the bed there.
To claim the spoils of victory.
She repeated to herself inwardly.
‘I-I can do this. I can do it.’
And she took a step.
Soon, his gaze turned toward her.
Her body grew even hotter.
‘Ah… what do I do?’
Feeling this, she finally admitted it.
‘He’s so cool…!’
That Kim Do-jin was the ideal male she had always dreamed of.
And that standing before that male, she had become nothing more than a mere female.
This body, burning hot and constantly humming with need, was the proof.
Reaching him, she opened her mouth.
“Th-there’s one thing we need to get straight.”
“…What is it?”
Suddenly, she remembered the things she’d heard here and there about men.
Based on that, she declared boldly.
“D-don’t think you can have all of me with just one round of sex!”
They said men don’t pay attention to a fish they’ve already caught. So she must never give her heart away so easily.
At that, Kim Do-jin got off the bed, stood before her, and asked.
“Then how can I have you?”
The temptation in his deep, low voice stirred her mind.
“Th-that… is…!”
While she floundered, faced with a question she’d never considered, Kim Do-jin’s face gently drew near and left a trace on her lips.
Mwah!
A light kiss.
It lit a fire in her chest.
“Th-that… will depend on how well you do from now on.”
Angela untied the front of her robe, revealing her body to Kim Do-jin.
Large breasts that defied gravity, rising up perkily.
Smooth, bronze skin, as if sculpted and fired by a master potter.
And below her brownish pubic hair, her tightly closed slit.
“Wow……”
While he was mesmerized by the marvelous work of art that would make any man gasp in admiration, Angela curled the corners of her lips.
She gently laid her heated body down on the soft anvil and provoked him.
“For now, try shaping me however you like.”
At that, Kim Do-jin, just as heated as she was, lunged at her fiercely.