Chapter 277
Chapter 277
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 277
Chapter Title: The Undying Human (3)
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The sword of Kariot originally bore a blessing.
Unable to bear seeing Kariot return home mangled time and again, she had bestowed that blessing upon his sword. But it wasn't anything particularly powerful to begin with.
A blessing that could heal only the smallest scratches at best. It wasn't especially useful, and Kariot himself never paid it much mind either.
However, that blessing became corrupted.
"Kariot, there is no God anywhere." A village engulfed in flames, the corpses of children burned to death.
"There is no salvation anywhere. A life hoping for something that never existed in the first place... it holds no value, no meaning at all." Gathering the charred human corpses, she screamed. A devout believer until the very end, in her final moments she chose the path of apostasy.
"Delorhim, you incompetent Delorhim. A cruel god who desires salvation for no one." "Ah, Kariot. Were you an inquisitor? Then, will you judge me? With that sword?" A village engulfed in flames, death, the corruption of a soul.
The thing that pierced the heart of the woman who, in the throes of death, cursed God and clawed at the world was, ironically, the cross-shaped sword she herself had gifted her husband.
The blade of pure white was dyed red.
The platinum blessing twisted into a dark crimson curse.
"You cannot die. Forever." "You will only wander, searching for salvation that doesn't exist." The sword stained by the curse was proof of heresy, an object that deviated from the providence of Delorhim's doctrine. Yet Kariot never discarded it. To honor the promise he'd one day made with her.
To seek the will of a God that would never exist.
"Sorry, Kuntel."
Kariot endured the curse.
"I can't die without my wife's permission."
The curse dwelling within the sword: immortality against death.
Kariot had been stripped of his right to free himself from life through death. No matter if his body was torn to shreds, no matter if his head was pulverized, after 37 hours his flesh would return to its original form.
Schwaaak!
Kuntel's sword sliced through Kariot's body once more.
In the span of an instant, dozens of sword strikes shredded Kariot's entire form. Blood sprayed high, chunks of flesh scattered in every direction.
Yet Kariot did not die.
His sundered flesh regained its shape in a single moment. The spilled blood flowed back into Kariot's body as if time itself were rewinding.
'35 seconds.'
Kariot counted the time silently in his mind.
For those 37 seconds enveloped by the curse, the process of 'resurrection' occurred with excessive speed. After 37 seconds, he'd have to endure the side effects... but right now, there was no room to fight while fretting over details.
As he was rent apart by the slashing storm, Kariot raised his hand.
His fingers pointed beyond Kuntel, toward Galahal and Raniel. Even as Kuntel's sword tore him asunder, Kariot smiled. His throat was ripped open, no voice could emerge, but he shaped the words with his lips.
This is your chance, you idiots.
Facing the storm of charging slashes, Kariot stepped forward instead. For an immortal, there was an immortal's own way to fight.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The sight of Kariot charging forward, spraying blood and entrails, was utterly chilling even to the eyes of his allies. In the North, warriors who knew no fear of death were called berserkers, weren't they?
Even the fearless warriors of the North felt terror toward berserkers. For a man thrusting his own neck toward encroaching death had already transcended mere humanity.
As the knights held their breath, Saintess Sara frowned and took a step forward.
"Sa-Saintess."
The knights who recognized her fell back.
Pushing through the retreating knights, Sara rolled up her sleeves. She clasped her hands together and offered a prayer to the divine.
'The situation is annoying.'
Being dragged into this mess, having to aid this apostate of all people... it grated on her. But that didn't mean she could simply stand idle.
Not for now, at least. Not as the Saintess.
Sara felt the weight of her responsibility as a symbol of the church. She let out a short breath, and divinity infused her voice.
"O God, grant them your blessing."
The stars answered Sara's call.
"May God's grace be with them."
A brilliant radiance erupted, centered on Sara.
2.
Pillars of light descended from the heavens. Kariot and Galahal knew not their nature, but Raniel did.
'Blessing.'
The bursting light bore the mark of the highest blessings.
Ordinarily, such blessings required a gathering of high priests to invoke. Yet here, dozens rained down at once. Raniel knew precisely one person capable of such a feat.
The Saintess, Sara.
The Saintess blessed by God himself.
Her twisted heart was another matter entirely; the divine arts she wielded were undoubtedly those of a Saintess. And their effect was nothing short of miraculous. Bodies awash in spilling blood began to heal in a breath.
'...Blessing. Kariot's immortality. And Galahal.'
Raniel tallied what had been granted to her in this moment.
She assessed what she herself could do.
'Amateurish hand-to-hand won't land.'
After all, it was Kuntel who had taught her those skills.
'Spells are intercepted. Probing casts, area sweeps—everything gets sliced apart.'
For swordsmanship honed to its absolute limit could cleave even spells asunder.
Raniel methodically struck useless options from her mind. All the while, she kept her body in motion, sustaining the fight. Then, something caught her eye.
Thuk!
Leading with his undying body as a shield, Kariot weathered Kuntel's blade. Even as the sword split him open, he stretched out to seize Kuntel's wrist. Kuntel severed it in an instant, but in that fleeting gap...
A spark of insight flashed through Raniel's mind.
"Galahal."
Dodging the sword, Raniel fell back.
She jerked her head toward Galahal—a signal of preparation. Understanding, Galahal swapped positions with her in seamless rotation.
The momentary breather they had forged.
Raniel snapped her fingers without hesitation.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Balance Mana Trading System Engaged
A scale materialized before her.
Perfectly level, it embodied two concepts: the burden imposed on the flesh, and the vast reserves of mana Raniel commanded.
The pinnacle art of the Battle Mage.
Substituting the physical toll of reinforcement spells with mana expenditure. Raniel laid her hand upon the impeccably balanced scale.
It tipped toward the mana.
A torrent of mana shattered the equilibrium. Within the upended balance, Raniel pressed her hand to her heart.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Accel All Stocked Circuits Converted
All her stockpiled circuits transmuted into a single spell.
'Probing spells won't get through anyway.'
Might as well unleash them all.
Dozens of circuits, now Accel, set Raniel's body ablaze with heat. The tipped scale righted itself—then tipped violently in the opposite direction.
The burden now mounted upon her flesh.
Steam rose from Raniel's body, her eyes bloodshot. Blood trickled from her eyes and nose. Her vast mana burned away in a frenzy.
Hwaaak!
Ash erupted across her form.
The area swathed in ash heaps, Raniel took a step forward.
Thud.
Under normal circumstances, the strain alone would have felled her. But Sara's blessing granted her a sliver of time.
Dragging the ashes in her wake, Raniel pressed onward.
3.
Kaaang!
Each blocked sword strike shattered her stance.
The blade was heavy. Impossibly heavy. Sweat beading coldly on his brow, Galahal swung his spear shaft against the onslaught. Kang! The sword in Kuntel's grip snapped.
But there was no respite to catch his breath.
Leaping lightly to the side, Kuntel snatched the hilt of a fallen knight's sword from the ground. Shifting position bit by bit, he seized new blades one after another. Every motion flowed with impossible grace.
Kuntel's arm, gripping the fresh sword, blurred with afterimages. Explosive bursts of air rang out in succession.
Papapang!
The barrage of thrusts detonated Kariot's body as he lunged. It regenerated swiftly, only for the ensuing horizontal slash to send his flesh flying.
"...Kuh!"
Then Kuntel turned on Galahal.
Kaaang! Galahal's spear shaft shuddered in his grasp. The fingers clutching it snapped.
Strong.
Unspeakably strong.
The sword transcendent, Kuntel.
The swordsmanship he had devoted his life to perfecting had ascended to undoubted pinnacles. The techniques he unleashed with a single blade had long surpassed the mere instrument of steel.
A technique tempered through endless refinement, one that had even touched the sword of death itself.
And now, it unfolded through a flawless body.
Not the body of his declining years, but one surpassing even his prime—each exchange demanded Galahal stake his life.
Crack.
Galahal's fingers broke. The spear shaft tilted; the blade grazed his shoulder blade. Blood burst forth, and Galahal lost his grip on the spear.
Yet Kuntel's sword shattered as well.
"Huuk...!"
As Galahal exhaled and regripped his spear, he glimpsed Kuntel leaping sideways. And at his landing spot...
The sword Kuntel had originally wielded, blasted away by Raniel at the battle's outset.
Shifting laterally step by step, Kuntel had maneuvered precisely here. He reached down and claimed the blade embedded in the ground—his rare metal sword, forged for him alone.
"...!"
Galahal thrust desperately, but Kuntel read the trajectory and evaded with ease. All while regripping the hilt.
In that instant, the air itself transformed.
An unbreakable sword. One famed for withstanding Kuntel's techniques in full. The moment it filled his hand, the battlefield gleamed pure white. Galahal swallowed reflexively.
Sword path.
The sword's impending course etched itself into Galahal's vision.
His hero's instinct, sensing death, blared its alarm—granting a fleeting glimpse of the future. And that future was utter despair.
The field of white was woven entirely of sword paths.
Dozens, hundreds, thousands—all aimed at Galahal's throat. Yet there was but one sword. No single blade could trace a thousand paths. Then what were these visions before his eyes?
Kuntel provided the answer.
The thousands converged into one.
The unified path blazed like a streak of pure white lightning. Kuntel's sword followed its course.
Tick, tick-tick-tick.
All it touched severed. Air split asunder; space itself began to warp. Vacuum trailed the blade's arc. Galahal's instincts screamed a warning.
Even knowing the trajectory.
Even knowing the target, the swing.
None of it could be blocked or evaded. Thus was the way of the superhuman sword. Galahal felt death draw nearer than ever before.
It was then.
Puk! Shoving Galahal aside, Kariot hurled himself into the blade's path. Kuntel's edge clove through Kariot's body, bending beneath the impact. Yet even after carving through flesh, its momentum never flagged.
Splitting blood, the sword pursued Galahal.
But that blade would never reach him.
Hwaak!
A burst of ash interposed itself between Galahal and Kuntel in a heartbeat. The frenzied whirlwind of cinders blinded Kuntel, if only for an instant.
No matter one's superhuman senses, a shrouded vision precluded foresight.
His field of view constricted, Kuntel registered Raniel charging through the haze too late. His reaction lagged by a beat. He redirected the sword path toward her crown, but Raniel was swifter still.
She had wagered everything on this singular motion. In that heartbeat, she overwhelmed Kuntel.
Thud.
Stepping forward once more, Raniel took Kuntel's descending blade upon her shoulder. In the same instant, her hand shot out to clamp his sword arm.
The sword lodged in her shoulder advanced no farther.
The first deadlock since the fight began.
But the balance shattered forthwith. Even with his wrist pinned, Kuntel drove the blade deeper.
Then—gruuk.
He twisted it viciously within her shoulder. In that moment, a burst of pure white sword aura erupted from the tip. As it sought to devour her shoulder—chaeng!—something wedged between them.
"Quick!"
Galahal's thrust with the holy spear.
Slamming down at an angle, it halted the burgeoning sword aura. Seizing the breach, Raniel moved her free hand.
The ash blanketing the area surged toward a single point.
Clenching the explosively gathered cinders, Raniel swung her fist. No superhuman who severed spells at their root could counter magic with his arm restrained.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Ashes to Ashes Ash Ignites into Flames
The gathered ash belched forth flames. Fire spilled between Raniel's clenched fingers. Kuntel frantically shook free and leaped back—but something latched onto his ankle.
Kwachik.
Half-regenerated flesh, a face half-formed—Kariot sank his teeth into Kuntel's ankle. His evasion faltered for that crucial instant.
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
A deafening roar, and the flash swallowed Kuntel whole.
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