Chapter 53
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: The Visit
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【Blademaster】☆☆☆.
A class similar to a swordsman, an aura user who wields a blade, but one more specialized in single-edged swords and offense.
Moreover, the Kahul family, who inherited the swordsmanship and secret techniques their ancestor learned in the Martial Realm, were particularly skilled in combat.
It was simply a matter of bad luck.
And of racial discrimination.
That was the only reason they hadn't obtained a territory despite their abilities.
Jemin had always lived with the unwavering belief that they wouldn't be easily defeated in a fight against any noble family.
That was why he’d resorted to the scheme of kidnapping the slaves from Waryongjang.
If he could ruin the White-Masked Young Master’s reputation,
and also thwart the Lord of Nangrang Fortress's plot,
he would finally have a chance to acquire a territory and elevate his family's prestige.
…If only the White-Masked Young Master hadn't turned the tables on him.
And yet, at this moment,
unlike his wife and children who were swiftly cornered, Jemin was proving with his blade that his pride was no mere arrogance.
*Fwoosh!*
One great step forward.
Simultaneously, his center of gravity shifted forward.
His body, having caught up to his advanced foot, stretched like a rubber band, unleashing a flash of light that swung like lightning.
Accelerating the shift in weight with aura.
Using that inertia to super-accelerate the body.
The result: an ultra-accelerated sword strike.
A triply accelerated strike that could sever an arm of a fellow aura user in the blink of an eye was blocked by the boy’s sword.
*Screeeech!*
But the blade did not stop.
Using the slight curve of the blade, he slid it free before extending it again in a lightning-fast thrust.
Dion rotated his sword in response, deflecting the thrust.
But that was only the beginning.
*Clang, k-klang, k-k-k-k-klang!*
He swings the blade.
He grips the spine to add force.
He pulls the hilt to block an attack.
Slash, slash, thrust, pull, feint, block, slash while striking, a double feint and slash, slash, slash, slash, a thrusting slash.
Faster, faster, even faster.
Growing quicker with every swing.
And all the more cunning for it.
The blade became deadlier.
Jemin’s blade steadily chipped away at the boy’s defense.
The technique of his swordsmanship.
The application of his aura.
The enhancement of his body.
His mastery of secret techniques.
His wealth of practical experience.
Even his cunning and strategic mind.
Unlike his children, Jemin was near perfect in every aspect.
A LV10 [Perfected One] who had devoured the vast amount of mana stones earned through crime and, after decades of relentless training, had fully blossomed his innate talent.
The essence accumulated over a lifetime by a Blademaster who had reached the pinnacle was just that sharp and deadly.
‘To think he’d rush at me without even being an aura user. What a fool!’
Ranger, Fighter, Driver, Summoner, Caster.
There was a reason Awakened Ones of combat classes were categorized as such; their fighting styles were vastly different.
A Driver, strongest with their Divine Beast.
A Summoner, stronger the more they fought against.
A Caster, capable of turning the tables in a single blow.
A Fighter, exceptional in direct confrontations.
A Ranger, master of ambushes and guerilla tactics.
It was meaningless to debate which class was the strongest.
A Divine Beast that could trample a Summoner’s army could be killed by a single spell from a Caster.
A Ranger who could easily assassinate a Caster would be cut to pieces by a Fighter in a head-on battle, and the horde of a Summoner’s countless familiars could swallow even such a Fighter whole.
One thing was clear.
Fighters were the best in close combat.
This was especially true for high-level Awakened Ones who were the most resilient and stable aura users.
That was why Jemin scoffed.
Dion’s senses, which allowed him to parry the swordsmanship despite being outmatched in both speed and power, were phenomenal…
But that was all.
The moment it was clear he couldn't wield aura, Dion was no match for him in close combat.
To think he would charge in, swinging his sword himself—the foolishness was almost laughable.
‘So this is the limit of someone who built his name on empty fame.’
Despite this, Jemin didn't let his guard down.
Even as his mind dismissed Dion, his perfected talent as a Blademaster and the instincts of a high-level Awakened One told him otherwise.
Above all, the boy's unwavering sword path and his cold smile, showing no signs of anxiety even in this situation, were telling.
The White-Masked Young Master, unless he was a complete moron, wouldn't have picked a fight he was certain to lose.
‘Show me! What other cheap tricks have you prepared to dare challenge me with such pathetic skills!’
He neither let his guard down nor rushed.
For a potential counterattack.
In preparation for a move that could turn the tables.
He just steadily pressed on.
Like methodically cutting off the pincers and tail of a venomous scorpion.
As long as he maintained his advantage, he could safely subdue Dion, no matter what hidden dagger he possessed.
…Yes, that was his plan.
The problem was that the situation was not going according to his plan.
“Guooorgh!”
“Kyaaaak!”
“...!”
His heir, his eldest son.
His daughter, who coveted that position.
His wife, who prided herself on being clever.
Even his youngest, who was all greed and no skill.
Jemin gritted his teeth as his family, whom he may not have loved but at least boasted about, fell one after another.
It wasn't just that his pride and honor were crushed by the fact that they had been defeated by a mere dark elf maid, a beastkin slave, and familiars.
It was because he was now in a position where he had to face Waryongjang’s entire force alone.
‘To think they couldn't even last this long against those inferior species, the incompetent fools…!’
‘…No, wait. Could this have been his plan all along?’
‘Was it to tie me down by bluffing, making it seem like he had some hidden trick up his sleeve?’
In the midst of his anger,
a sudden suspicion flashed in Jemin’s eyes.
If that suspicion was true, it meant he had been completely played by the White-Masked Young Master from the very beginning.
Of course, the White-Masked Young Master might truly have another trick…
‘It doesn’t matter which it is!’
The only way out of this predicament was to take the White-Masked Young Master hostage right now.
Besides, no matter what tricks he used, he could easily subdue Dion, who wasn't even an aura user.
And so, raising his blade high above his head in a high stance, Jemin drew upon his aura.
Aura was the most solid form of power.
Simply accumulating it provided enhancement to the body, power, and defense.
While it was versatile and reliably excellent, it was also difficult to modify or control with precision, and it took time…
But that was only a story for the unskilled.
『Secret Ultimate Art of the Kahul Blademastery
Heaven's Reversal』
The swift and precise concentration of aura, befitting a Perfected-level aura user.
And as the head of the family who had mastered all of the Kahul family's secret arts, he poured that power into his sword without spilling a single drop.
Its power was truly a killing blow.
It was not only fast enough to be difficult for even an aura user to block,
but if the opponent dodged, thinking it a simple downward strike, the sword would instantly reverse its path and slash upwards, cleaving their body in two.
*K-k-k-kreeeeech!!!*
“...?!”
“Hmm, so this is the extent of it.”
That was why Jemin’s eyes widened.
Dion had dodged his strike.
And even deflected the follow-up upward slash.
Then he muttered as if it were trivial.
As Jemin stared in astonishment at the movement, something absolutely impossible for anyone but a close-combat class,
Dion swung his sword lightly.
*Kaaaang!*
A speed so fast he almost failed to react, even for an instant.
And a power so immense that even he felt a heavy impact in his hands.
Jemin’s face contorted at the physical abilities that were on a completely different level from before.
“You…! You were hiding your strength!”
“Not really. It’s just been a while since I faced a high-level melee class, so I needed some practice.”
“What?”
“But this should be enough. Let’s end this now.”
What kind of nonsense is that?
Jemin couldn't ask.
Before he could even open his mouth, something caught his ankle.
Spider silk, finer than hair yet tougher than wire, extending from [The Black Spider’s Demonic Hand].
*Shwiiik!*
“Keuk! Such petty tricks…!”
“REi turOU, AraD.”
*Sssss.*
Jemin swung his blade lightly, severing the spider silk.
But that brief moment was more than enough for Dion to chant his spell.
With the short incantation,
a murky black magic coalesced on his sword.
Seeing it, Jemin, far from being surprised, wore a smirk.
‘I see, so he’s a magic swordsman type?’
Dark Knights, Paladins, Magic Swordsmen, and the like.
Classes that represented versatility, being proficient in close combat while also able to use spells.
But that also meant they were masters of none.
No matter how much he enhanced his sword and body with magic, it wouldn't be enough to pose a threat to him, an aura user.
Jemin was certain of it.
—Until Dion suddenly took a high stance.
“Something like this, I suppose?”
“...?!?!”
An explosively fast sword.
A sword path tracing a familiar trajectory.
Though he was so shocked his eyes felt like they would pop out, Jemin reacted instinctively.
And…
『Improved Style of the Kahul Blademastery
Heaven's Overthrow』
*Clang.*
*K-kang.*
*Shwaaaack—!!!*
“...Cough, ugh!”
It fell as if to crush a mountain.
Then shot up in reverse like lightning.
Jemin blocked the all-too-familiar sword path with the counter he already knew.
But it didn't stop there. Rebounding off his blade, it spun a full 360 degrees and came crashing down from above once more.
The third, unimaginable strike finally dug into his shoulder, severed his right arm, and exited through his side.
*Thud.*
Jemin collapsed weakly.
With his blade, right arm, and shoulder sliced off in a single strike,
even a Perfected-level aura user couldn't possibly endure it.
Even so, Jemin was plunged into a confusion so immense he couldn't even feel the pain.
‘H-how? That ability. And that swordsmanship… no, could a monster capable of such a thing possibly exist in this world…?’
Questions.
Doubts.
Suspicions.
A situation beyond comprehension muddled his mind.
But that was only for a moment.
The instant he came to his senses and saw the boy standing before him, sword dripping with blood,
he erased all his questions.
Instead, he simply glared at the White-Masked Young Master with eyes full of resentment.
“You, how dare you, do you know who is behind me…!”
It was a warning and a threat.
And a final, last-ditch offer for compromise.
That he had a backer, and killing him would invite retaliation.
So if he wanted to know who that backer was and avoid retribution, he should negotiate now.
It was a truly humiliating offer, chosen because he had no other options.
“That’s none of my damn business.”
“...What?”
“Only one thing is important to me.”
But Dion flatly ignored Jemin’s offer.
To the goblin who had been preparing to list just how powerful his backer was and what kind of retaliation they could expect, his eyes wide with disbelief, the boy spoke languidly.
“—That you touched ‘what’s mine.’”
Whether it was a slave, a toy, or a single coin, it didn't matter.
Having dared to touch what was his, there was only one reward Jemin could receive.
With a faint smile on his face.
Yet devoid of any mirth.
The boy spoke calmly.
Revealed through the gaps in his mask,
Jemin froze as he saw the utterly ghastly and ferocious gleam flickering within the boy's blood-red eyes, colder than ice.
Finally.
He realized.
The fundamental reason things had come to this.
His greatest mistake wasn't rashly accepting this job, nor was it kidnapping the slaves…
…it was the fact that he had failed to recognize a calamity that should never have been touched.
*Slice!*