Chapter 380
Chapter 380
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 380
Chapter Title: The Beast King's Blade
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The northern warriors were irreplaceable friends and mentors to Rak. Among them, the elite soldiers under the Grand Duke's command—known as the Thirteen Warriors—held a special place in his heart.
To Rak, they were like family.
The Thirteen Warriors stationed at Baekya Castle had supported Rak since his childhood, taught him, and sometimes even joined him on hunts. They were his brothers, his family, his truest companions.
Rak's eyes trembled faintly.
Those who had rushed over at the signal flare were, of course, the north's elite soldiers. Rak gazed upon the proud warriors' corpses. Muttering their names under his breath, he slowly stepped forward.
"......"
Rak stopped before Oyakal's body.
Third Seat, Hawk-Eye Oyakal.
Young among the warriors, he had been like a teacher and brother to Rak, the one who helped him choose his weapon. Whenever Rak faced a dilemma, he sought Oyakal's counsel. And Oyakal always offered thoughtful, helpful advice.
He was a wise warrior.
A warrior who took pride in his hawk-like eyes.
But from Oyakal—now buried in the snow, spilling dark red blood and entrails—Rak could no longer sense the man he once knew. What lay there was merely a corpse. With a trembling hand, Rak reached out and gently closed Oyakal's wide-open eyes.
"You did well, Oyakal."
Rak shut Oyakal's eyes.
"Young master, which weapon catches your eye?"
"Does that one appeal to you?"
"It's a fine weapon. Straight and true—perfect for you. Now, stand tall here."
I'll teach you how to wield an axe.
Oyakal's smiling face flickered before Rak's eyes. The memory didn't last long. Rak slowly rose to his feet. Standing before the warriors' corpses, he ground his teeth with a crunch.
Bloodshot veins burst in his eyes.
A faint snap echoed in his ears, like something breaking.
Rak's hand shot to his waist, roughly yanking free his axe. A harsh scraaape of metal rang out as the beast—that hungered for human flesh—slowly turned its head.
"......"
The beast stared at Rak.
Chunks of human blood and flesh dripped from its gaping maw. It chewed with a wet crunch, its eyes curving into wicked crescents.
The beast straightened its bent knees.
It recognized Rak—radiating raw killing intent—as an enemy. As the beast glared, Rak tapped his own chest lightly with the axe's haft.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Heating
A heavy thud. Then Rak pounded his chest savagely, as if to shatter his own heart. New spells layered over the first.
Heating, Heating, Heating, Heating, Heating.
The spells clinging to the axe haft were sucked into Rak's heart. His pulse thundered thump-thump-thump. His eyes flushed red, and just as his body—strained by the reinforcement—began to tear apart...
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Balance Time seemed to halt for an instant.
A platinum Balance shimmered into existence amid the frozen snowflakes. Unlike a standard summoning, this Balance bore restrictions—for a single trade alone.
One trade only.
The pinnacle of Battle Mage arts that Rak had honed over three years.
No questions asked, the stars accepted Rak's terms.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ 【The trade has been established.】
Time resumed its flow. Snow resumed falling from the sky. But the flakes never reached the ground.
Whoooosh!
A blizzard erupted around Rak.
Artificially conjured, Rak's mana swirled as snow in a raging storm. Amid the howling gale, Rak's eyes gleamed red.
With a sharp thud, Rak kicked off the ground.
In that split second, the beast lost sight of him.
2.
Rak was a warrior versed in both axe and sword.
Born with innate senses and a sturdy frame.
He possessed every quality to ascend as a true warrior. Yet the Northern Grand Duke hadn't raised him solely as one. Rak had another gift.
Vast mana reserves.
Top mages, including the White Tower Lord, had spotted it in him. His raw mana rivaled that of any first-rate mage in sheer volume.
Raniel had confirmed it too.
Thus, she taught him to wield mana. He could cast spells crudely, but intricate ones didn't suit his raw power. Raw mana demanded raw spells.
Body reinforcement led by Heating.
Raniel had taught him to push it to extremes, and over three years, Rak had drilled relentlessly. Proving its worth, he kicked off now.
In one step, the landscape warped.
Distance vanished in an instant; his body moved twice as fast. Blood vessels burst across his wide eyes. A hazy vista unfolded in his mind.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Super Sense
Not yet perfected, the blurry scene revealed the beast's impending moves. Eyes locked on them, Rak gripped his axe tight.
Spin.
The beast's eyes darted wildly, having lost Rak. Spotting him, its shoulder twitched with a grind. Elongated claws tore through the air toward Rak... but he'd already foreseen it.
Kaaaaaaaang!
Axe met claw.
The beast was repelled. Its lost arm—crudely replaced with a beast's corpse—lacked power.
That fleeting opening.
Rak advanced another step from his swing. A boom centered on his foot sent snow surging. Instant acceleration, pivoting on that axis.
One step for balance.
Pounding heart and boiling blood for speed.
His superhuman body pushed beyond limits. Such motion defied imagination.
Shrieeeeeek!
The axe blade traced a silver-white arc.
It buried into the beast's flank. As its body shook, the beast swiped back—
Kiiiiiiiiiiing!
The embedded blade vibrated. The beast's eyes widened. Rak twisted deeper, flicking his wrist.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Grace Style, Second Form: Rupture Boom! The beast's body lurched.
Shockwaves from the blade ravaged it, bursting dark ooze from the stitched beast flesh.
The beast staggered sideways.
Rak pursued relentlessly. Spinning his dripping axe, he forced silver arcs together. With a crunch, he stabbed and swung, chasing the retreating beast.
Rak's head burned hot.
Coherent thought evaded him.
Bloodshot eyes, feverish flesh, seething blood. His body accelerated bit by bit. The beast jolted repeatedly, spilling gore onto the snow. Rak moved with one obsession: kill the thing before him.
Crushing its shaking knee.
Mounting its lowered neck, Rak swung wildly—brute force over technique.
Crack, craaack!
The axe sank into the beast's crown.
He hammered it deeper with his second axe, like driving a nail. Each blow unleashed shockwaves, burrowing incrementally.
But.
It never split the skull or reached the brain.
Mid-swing, unease prickled Rak. The beast had started making odd noises.
"Grk, grrrk."
Foamy, like blood bubbling.
Yet it sounded like laughter.
Suddenly, the beast whipped its right arm at Rak atop its head. Rak kicked its shoulder and leaped away. With a crunch, the beast clawed its own scalp.
Dark blood flowed from torn flesh.
But the beast laughed through its open maw, icy eyes alight with ecstasy—as if reveling in it all. Then it gaped impossibly wide.
"Grk, grrrk."
Charging with jaws dripping saliva and blood, it lunged to bite. Rak parried the jaw with his axe and darted. The beast pursued.
Every part of it was a weapon.
Razor claws, fangs, inhuman leg strength. Leveraging its natural gifts, the beast pressed Rak. Its movements sharpened, grew wilder.
Snapping at empty air.
Clawing wildly around it.
A fight devoid of dignity.
Before the beast baring its savagery, Rak gripped his axe tighter, eyes fierce. The blizzard rising from him coalesced around the blade—like Lania gathering ash.
Whirling snow around his axe, Rak charged the oncoming beast.
Stacking acceleration, he unleashed techniques in sequence. Skills honed over years, passed directly from the founder. To slay the beast, Rak drew them forth. First: Initial Strike.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Grace Style, First Form: Initial Strike
A strike too swift to track battered the beast's charging maw. Its head snapped back; space ruptured belatedly, shaking its body. The gap created—
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Grace Style, Second Form: Rupture
Even as its head reeled, the beast swung its right arm. Rak cleaved down. The axe in its arm hummed, then detonated it.
Flesh rained down.
Rak pressed the now one-armed beast, chaining forms: Third, Fourth, Fifth. With each, the snowstorm around his axe intensified. When it peaked—
Rak hurled his axe at the beast.
Crunch—it embedded in its chest, unleashing the blizzard. The frenzy clawed, tore, and blinded it. Rak reached into empty air.
"Grk, grrrk!"
As the beast laughed and burst free—its pupils dilated. They fixed on the sword in Rak's grip.
Hummm.
Rak wielded a greatsword.
Drawn from thin air: his mightiest weapon, the first Hero's holy sword. Before it, the beast shuddered violently. Rak mistook it for fear.
It was ecstasy.
Ecstatic, the beast raised its left arm.
The arm it hadn't used once since combat began.
Its aura shifted dramatically.
3.
The beast sensed killing intent aimed at it.
Felt the raw obsession.
Something... I once lost.
In the man before it, the beast recalled what it had long forsaken. The more they clashed, the sharper the memories stabbed. Thus, it wished the fight to drag on.
So it withheld its left arm.
Fighting like a beast, chasing like a monster—using only its new acquisitions. Without its innate left arm, it prolonged the melee.
Each clash stirred something.
The man's techniques felt familiar—skills it once mastered, now lost. The beast yearned for more.
So it pressed him.
The harder it pushed, the more he revealed. Cornered, he drew them out one by one. The beast struggled yet craved his final card.
Humans were like that.
They held an ace till the very end.
At last, he played it.
The beast couldn't react as before. Eyes wide, it beheld the sword. The stance.
The sword once held by Ganikalt van Galatric.
The blade that severed its neck.
The radiant light from its final moments shone anew. The man gripped it in a similar pose. The beast exulted. Lusted. What it craved stood before it. Instinct screamed: it couldn't block without its left arm.
Dazzling radiance.
The same as that day.
Facing it, memory fragmented and seized the beast. Incomplete recollections moved its body. Its swollen form shrank with wet crunches. It thrust out its left arm—straight as a blade.
To a master swordsman, the body itself was a sword.
Gripping his, he assumed his stance.
...A mere instant.
Less than a second. A fragment of a second, splintered a thousandfold. Yet even in that blink—
The beast became king.
King of proud demon beasts.
Then blade met blade.