Chapter 385
Chapter 385
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 385
Chapter Title: Mercenary King's Regret
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Tssstssstss, tss-.
Sparks danced across the turtle's shell. After a bolt of lightning ravaged it, a pitch-black scorch mark marred the surface.
The turtle's body slowed, its flesh seared from the blast. The sturdy shell held firm without cracking, but countless rankers lay sprawled unconscious atop it.
It was a truly dominant display. Soo-hyuk barreled forward, sweeping away everything in his path.
The battle was overwhelming.
Lightning rained from the skies, followed by charges that cleaved through foes.
The rankers competing in the counterattack were renowned powerhouses from worlds far and wide.
Yet the ones facing Soo-hyuk made viewers question if they were rankers at all.
Such reactions were inevitable in a fight without a hint of struggle.
The chat exploded with the topic. It was a testament to how impressive Soo-hyuk's performance was.
But Soo-hyuk ignored it. The moment he entered the trial, he was a player—not a streamer.
'Four duds in a row.'
He wanted to weed out dangerous rivals here if possible. In this match, defense was far more disadvantageous than offense.
Attackers had nothing to worry about, but defenders had to protect their mount—the turtle—as well.
Of course, that only applied when it was your mount.
"Looks like our targets overlapped."
Soo-hyuk scanned his surroundings.
Between thick trees, rugged warriors in leather armor emerged one by one.
Their numbers were substantial—easily over a hundred. In their midst stood a tall, slender woman who caught the eye.
"That was our prey, but you beat us to the punch."
She wore antiquated leather armor clashing with her sunglasses. In her grip was an axe far larger than her frame—one that made her identity obvious at a glance.
Mercenary King Bamael.
One of the three Mercenary Kings of the Lukan continent.
She clicked her tongue in regret.
"We had a deal to wipe those guys out for gold. You stole it, so we're hurting bad..."
"I must look like gold to you too."
Soo-hyuk tilted his head.
"Is there a bounty on my head as well?"
At his blunt question, Bamael sighed.
"There is. But can't you see I'm bummed about it?"
To a Mercenary King like her, the counterattack was one massive payday.
Requests flooded in for participating mercenaries—mostly to knock out rival guilds. Some even targeted Lee Soo-hyuk specifically.
But now facing him, Bamael swallowed her disappointment.
"Thought the payout was solid. Nearly did it for free. Hey, everyone—fall back! On to the next mark."
Bamael waved dismissively, ordering retreat. Her rough mercenaries pulled back accordingly.
Once they vanished, Soo-hyuk resumed his advance.
But in that instant—
Pewaaang-!
Thick arrows slicing through the air gleamed in Soo-hyuk's eyes. Not just one or two—dozens rained from every direction simultaneously.
Soo-hyuk spun, sword flashing to bat them aside. The arrows ricocheted away.
Each was mana-infused, thick enough to punch through iron plating.
The moment he deflected them, a ferocious axe hacked down from overhead.
"Hraaap!"
Bamael's axe swung with skull-splitting force. Its momentum churned the earth.
Kwarung-!
Crack-.
Soo-hyuk plunged into the ground from the axe's blow. A nearby tree bore a deep axe-shaped gouge, testament to its power.
Thick dust billowed. From hiding spots within, mercenaries hefting portable ballistas revealed themselves.
"Worthy of the Mercenary King!"
"Op success!"
The mercenaries cheered amid the haze, convinced Soo-hyuk was down.
But Bamael's expression soured.
"Damn it, we blew it."
"Huh?"
As confusion spread—
Pzzt-.
A blue line slashed across their waists.
Kwarung-!
Thunder boomed across the ground. Soo-hyuk strode from the dust, sword whipping like lightning.
Bamael eyed the unscathed Soo-hyuk—unfazed even after her axe strike—and muttered defensively.
"A bounty that juicy? Too good to pass up."
"I get it."
Soo-hyuk nodded. Bamael blinked wide-eyed, caught off guard by his calm acceptance.
His lack of anger or curses unnerved her more.
It hit home all too clearly.
Bamael wiped sweat from her brow and grumbled.
"Ehey, we're toast."
Cling, chingching-.
Two daggers clashed at irregular speeds as they scaled a tree trunk.
Ye-ryeong and Jang Se-ri targeted only vital spots with precision. As assassins, they knew better than anyone: one clean hit to a weak point ended it.
Jang Se-ri parried the dagger and leaped back. In that instant, a projectile hurtled toward her eyes.
Swoosh-.
The serrated dart grazed past. Jang Se-ri yanked one from her thigh and flung it in retaliation.
Whirrr-.
By coincidence—or design—her dart matched Ye-ryeong's: ten rotating teeth linked by thread, converging from multiple angles.
Ye-ryeong twisted aside, but the teeth pursued relentlessly.
Kwagagagak-.
The teeth shredded the trunk. One graze would dice flesh.
Ye-ryeong had thrown a single dart; Jang flaunted ten like a boast of superiority.
Jang Se-ri yanked the thread taut. The whirling teeth surged toward Ye-ryeong from all sides.
But—
Tingtingting-.
Harsh metal clangs rang out, sparks flying midair. Jang Se-ri jolted in shock.
'Deflected every one?'
Impossible without mapping every trajectory. She recoiled instinctively, widening the gap.
"Still way better than that Poison King clown."
Ye-ryeong grinned at the scattered darts on the ground.
"Manchun Hwau or whatever— all flash, no bite. If you want gaudy power, just learn magic. Am I right?"
Jang Se-ri nodded inwardly. It echoed her own long-held view.
Poison King Tang Pae-gun.
His lofty title stemmed from devastating poisons and darts. Yet Jang had never deemed him a true rival.
He lacked the essentials: subtlety.
"Kinda nice seeing a skilled junior like you... but baffles me why you'd tail a scumbag with that talent."
"Shut your trap?"
Jang's mouth finally opened since the fight began.
"You filthy bitch. Want me to rip that jaw off? Who the hell you badmouthing with that goblin trap?"
Vulgar curses spewed forth.
She moved like a viper, venom dripping. Ye-ryeong cackled at the killing intent.
"Yeah. Way better than the silent treatment. You were too robotic before."
"Shut it, you cunt!"
Jang Se-ri lunged—her fastest dash yet.
Her form sliced through wind, then vanished below sightlines into shadow. She thrust at Ye-ryeong's heart.
Clang-!
Sparks flew once more in brutal close quarters.
Their movements blurred beyond sight. Sparks flickered sporadically; in a blink, they clashed silently afar.
Then Ye-ryeong's daggers crossed.
Whip—lengths swapped hands unnoticed.
"...!"
Distance sense shattered. She'd just adapted.
Splat-.
A gash opened on Jang's face from the mismatch. She readjusted swiftly, only for left-right daggers to swap again.
Blood streaming, Jang retreated rapidly.
Ye-ryeong gave no quarter, shadowing like inescapable night.
She stabbed relentlessly.
Puk, puk-.
No sound, yet flesh parting echoed in the mind.
Eyes quivering in disbelief, Jang rolled across the dirt.
"Kuhk!"
She clutched her right thigh. Then agony flared in her left shoulder.
After vitals-only strikes, she'd targeted limbs for the first time. Mobility and offense crippled.
Dagger lengths. Attack angles. Ye-ryeong had switched styles entirely.
It felt like facing a stranger.
"Bet you've culled plenty with that trick. Weeding out guild deadweight."
Victory's smirk on her lips, Ye-ryeong closed in.
"Your turn now. Oh, won't actually kill you. Wait outside—I'll be there soon."
Eyes narrowed at the approaching figure.
Momentum had shifted, but this was her opening.
'Off guard.'
Exploiting carelessness was an assassin's core skill.
Ye-ryeong's steps lightened with overconfidence. Her footfalls clearer, presence more palpable.
Jang knelt feigned defeat.
She could stand. Thigh skewered, but no novice wound.
She became the silent serpent, tongue flicking, awaiting the approach.
Step-.
Distance closed.
Puhwaaak-.
Black poison mist erupted from her bosom—her final ace.
From five paces, it shot dart-like. Unblockable. Death warrant.
Ye-ryeong vanished in the cloud. Jang smirked.
But fleeting.
'Too easy?'
No struggle felt wrong. Couldn't be.
And sure enough—
Swoosh-.
The engulfed figure wasn't Ye-ryeong.
Her garb dissolved in the blackness.
Puk-.
Cold-hot steel pierced her throat.
Ye-ryeong's voice whispered at her ear.
"Some overly cautious punk kept nagging me. 'Don't drop guard—that's noob shit.'"
Now behind her, voice flat.
"Right, you noob bitch?"