The Heibrun Subjugation, Part 6
Swoosh!
Heukgol's sword drew a massive semi-circle in the air.
Reading the trajectory, Pokryong instantly targeted a gap in Jacques's defense, but the bastard's wounds healed in the blink of an eye.
His regeneration speed is disgustingly fast...
Pokryong's brow furrowed.
He had heard plenty about the incredible recovery rate granted to those who contracted with evil gods.
But in Jacques's case, it was far too fast. New flesh sprouted before the severed pieces could even hit the ground.
Boom!
Once again, the giant flame sword Pokyeomdo and the executioner's sword clashed.
A shockwave rippled outward, and caught in the recoil, Pokryong stumbled backward despite himself.
In contrast, Jacques stood firm, completely unshaken. It was proof that he was rapidly adapting to his mutated body.
Damn it.
Seeing this, Pokryong grit his teeth.
The longer this fight drags on, the worse it is for us.
As Jacques grew more accustomed to his new form, the battle would only become more grueling.
Of course, neither Pokryong nor Heukgol was going all out yet.
If they fought with total disregard for the consequences, they could undoubtedly suppress the corrupted Jacques.
However, the aftermath was the problem.
Unleashing their full power against a corrupted Jacques here would trigger a cascade of complications.
...Do we have to pour everything we've got into this, even if we have to deal with the fallout?
While Pokryong was locked in dilemma,
Step, step.
he felt a presence approaching.
A man was walking toward them at a leisurely pace, holding a slender, snow-white sword.
It was the 13th Sword Master, Gaon.
"...?"
Pokryong, still locked in combat, furrowed his brow.
...What is this?
An alien energy drifted from the approaching figure.
Something had changed.
Though his outward appearance remained the same, the aura radiating from Gaon had undeniably shifted.
He was stronger. And sharper.
Could it be...?
A sudden possibility flashed through Pokryong's mind.
...Did a portion of his seal unlock in real-time?
If that was the case,
it explained why Gaon had held back, muttering about the "right time."
Perhaps he had been waiting for the seal to loosen to a certain degree.
And now, that optimal moment had arrived.
"He's finally moving."
Shhh.
Naturally, the two Sword Masters weren't the only ones who noticed Gaon's approach.
Jacques's dark red eyes flashed. The corners of his mouth twisted grotesquely at the appearance of a new opponent.
His right arm began to swell even further. Simultaneously, a sinister energy gathered around his executioner's sword.
"Take my blade, Gaon! I won't fall as easily as I did that day!"
Crash!
As Jacques swung his executioner's sword violently, demonic energy exploded outward in all directions.
A dark red wave shot straight toward Gaon.
Of course, the attack never reached him.
"Not on my watch!"
Clang!
Pokryong reacted instantly, deflecting the strike, while Heukgol seized the opening to prepare a counterattack.
Even as the battle raged between Jacques and the two Sword Masters, Gaon simply kept walking forward at a leisurely pace.
Slide.
It happened in the next instant.
Having closed the distance, Gaon thrust his sword into a bizarre position.
He didn't swing with any real force. He simply placed his blade at a specific point in space.
Much like Heukgol's swordsmanship, it was a method of predicting the opponent's path and pre-positioning the blade there.
This is nothing!
Jacques, busy fending off Pokryong and Heukgol, noticed the position of the sword.
It was annoying, but not worth worrying about.
There was no weight behind the blade.
Even if it grazed him, his regeneration would instantly heal any minor scratch, leaving his combat capabilities completely unaffected.
My regeneration can easily handle—!
Slice!
Gaon's sword grazed his body.
As expected, it was a trivial wound.
Nothing more than a shallow scratch on the surface of his skin.
"...?"
But something was wrong.
All his other wounds had healed instantly. Even the deep gashes left by Heukgol and Pokryong were already gone without a trace.
Yet the wound Gaon had inflicted was different.
Dark red blood dripped from it. For some reason, no matter how much time passed, it showed no sign of regenerating.
What the fuck is this...?
Bewilderment began to wash over Jacques's face at this completely unexpected turn of events.
*Inhale, exhale.*
I took a deep breath and calmly analyzed the battlefield.
The sub-stat I had recently acquired, Command & Control, laid out the flow of the battlefield like a painting before my eyes.
Pokryong's breathing, Heukgol's attack trajectories, and the options available to Jacques were as clear as stones placed on a Go board.
Once I grasped the flow, slipping into the movements of the three transcendents was child's play.
Of course, that didn't mean...
...I can't overcommit to the fight.
Level 40.
While it was an extraordinary level of growth for the early game, it was still far too low to directly intervene in a clash of transcendents.
If I overreached here, I could easily be swept up in the vortex of their clash and die in an instant.
Even now, the shockwaves and stray currents radiating from the battle made my entire body tingle.
But it was fine.
Because I possessed something far greater than mere raw power.
Whoosh—
My vision narrowed, focusing sharply on a single point.
My exponentially boosted perception and senses aligned with my Sword (Lv. Max) skill, allowing me to read the gaps in the battle.
Even the most precisely engineered gears have microscopic gaps between their teeth. Naturally, I could spot the openings within the movements of these three transcendents.
Slipping my blade into those gaps was all I needed to do.
Slide!
Once more, I thrust my sword through a visible opening.
Right between the pressure exerted by Heukgol's Zweihander and the options restricted by Pokryong's Pokyeomdo. Straight toward the path Jacques had no choice but to take.
Stab!
"Urgh...!"
Another success. A long scratch opened up on Jacques's abnormally swollen right arm.
Though the wound was shallow, it was more than enough. Crimson blood poured from the wound that refused to heal.
"...!"
By now, Pokryong and Heukgol had noticed the anomaly. They realized that out of the dozens of wounds on Jacques's body, only the ones I inflicted refused to close.
Shift.
Heukgol's hollow eye sockets flashed toward me, and Pokryong's slit pupils locked onto me as well.
Though no words were exchanged, we understood each other's intentions in an instant.
Boom!
Crash!
From that moment, the movements of Pokryong and Heukgol shifted subtly.
Like hounds driving prey into a trap, the two began herding Jacques into the path of my blade.
"Damn it...!"
Jacques was no fool. The moment he realized my sword bypassed his regeneration, hesitation crept into his movements.
Hook, line, and sinker.
A faint smirk played on my lips.
This was exactly what I had been aiming for.
This was the opening I truly wanted.
Shring!
I exploited his hyper-awareness of me. I feigned a thrust to the left, only to pivot to the right.
Already preoccupied with Pokryong and Heukgol, Jacques panicked at the unexpected trajectory. Because my blade had remained stationary until now, he had assumed it would be the same this time.
I did not miss that split-second opening.
Crunch!
Ah.
A jarring sensation traveled up my fingertips.
The sharp tip of the Feather Sword pierced through Jacques's carapace, sinking deep.
Spurt!
As the sword was pulled free, dark red blood erupted like a geyser.
It wasn't that I had pulled the Feather Sword out with force. Rather, the blade had naturally slipped free as Jacques scrambled backward to create distance.
In any case...
...It landed perfectly.
Drip.
Blood dripped from my torn palm. The skin had peeled, unable to withstand the intense shock and friction transmitted through the hilt.
But a minor injury like this was nothing compared to the blow I had just dealt Jacques von Heibrun.
Whoosh, crash!
The ground shook violently.
With a single leap, Jacques retreated a good ten meters.
The fierce battle ground to a temporary halt. Pokryong and Heukgol caught their breath, standing firm in their respective positions.
Having put distance between us, Jacques glared at me with eyes full of rage.
"How dare you... How dare you!"
He growled, but I didn't even blink. If anything, his agitated behavior looked like nothing more than a desperate struggle to mask his fear.
"You're hesitating again."
I slowly curled my lips upward. It was a smile of mockery and absolute certainty.
"You're always like this. You never trust your own choices at the critical moment. Just a few days ago on the training grounds, you hesitated to attack and ended up giving me your forearm."
"Shut your mouth...!"
Jacques roared defensively.
But his voice was already trembling.
"It was the same in the Sky Ocean Forest. You wavered before the temptation of the evil god, unable to commit either way. Even just moments ago, when you entered a formal contract with it, you hesitated until the very end, didn't you?"
Flick.
I lightly flicked the Feather Sword, shaking off the viscous blood.
The dark red blood stained the parched wasteland.
"But Adelia was different."
"..."
"She didn't run when she faced a wall. She charged forward knowing she might break, and she accepted the fight knowing she might lose."
Jacques's face gradually contorted. Rage, shame, humiliation, and disgrace—all of it swirled together in his expression.
"And that is exactly..."
I calmly finished my sentence.
"...why you've done nothing but run in place for the last forty years."
These were the very words Pokryong had carelessly thrown at Jacques not long ago.
How could you not have changed a single bit in forty years?
Grit.
Having his own failure thrown back in his face, Jacques grit his teeth.
The sound was clear despite the distance, proving his fury had reached its absolute peak.
"Fine."
Jacques's voice sank low.
"You're right. I always hesitated. I looked back and wavered at every critical moment."
Creak, crackle!
His massive body, previously weighed down by his heavy arms, slowly stood upright.
Jacques, who had been crouching on all fours, rose precariously onto two feet.
"But not anymore."
"..."
"If there is no turning back, then I simply won't turn back."
Jacques looked up at the sky. The dark red light leaking from his eyes grew even more ferocious.
"I offer everything. My soul, my body, and my convictions..."
Rumble!
A thunderous roar echoed as if the sky itself were splitting open.
The demonic energy erupting from Jacques's body surged exponentially, swirling into a dark red vortex that shot high into the heavens.
"Hey, wait. We have to stop that..."
"Wait."
"...?"
Grab.
Heukgol hurriedly took a combat stance, but I held him back.
We had to let Jacques proceed.
In fact, having him enter this "second contract" was all part of my plan.
Bzzzzzt!
More static and noise began to distort the level display hovering above Jacques's head.
An overwhelming pressure crushed the surrounding area.
The air itself grew heavy, making it difficult to even breathe.
"Hey! Are you insane? Do you have any idea how strong he'll get if he makes another contract?"
Heukgol yelled.
But...
I simply smiled in satisfaction.
"It's fine."
"...?"
"I told you, didn't I? Strategy doesn't matter. A single strike is more than enough."
Rumble—
As I finished speaking, I looked straight ahead and saw the beast enveloped in sinister demonic energy.
The corrupted Jacques von Heibrun.
His final phase.
Finally, the moment to use the Soul of the Sword Master had arrived.