Chapter 164: Remnants of the Dark Magic Association (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 164: Remnants of the Dark Magic Association (5)
Crunch!
With every swing of Goltep’s hammer, the cave floor shattered, sending stone fragments flying. Enya gasped as she stared at the cratered ground, while Jin maintained a composed, rhythmic footwork.
To Jin, it was composed. To Enya, it looked as if he were dancing on a razor’s edge. That was only natural, as she lacked the trained eye to comprehend the movements of a 7-star knight.
“Young Master!”
“Stay back, Austin.”
Enya had cried out in desperation, but Jin was experiencing an indescribable, electrifying thrill shooting up his spine, sending tremors of excitement through his entire body.
Boom! Crack! Thud! The massive weapon pulverized the floor again and again. Each time the hammer struck and rebounded, it sang with a savage, whistling wind.
The hammer moved with dazzling precision. Warriors of the White Wolf Tribe handled weapons like hammers, maces, and spears before they could even walk, and Goltep was a veteran with nearly three hundred battles under his belt.
From left to right, right to left, then left to right again—the hammer traced diagonal and straight lines that cut off all paths of retreat with terrifying accuracy. The trajectory of the hammer, dancing between the air and the ground, was the culmination of a lifetime of experience.
And within it, there was a flow. A flow optimized for pulverizing an opponent. Only a martial artist who had reached a certain realm could perceive it.
Jin, for one, had reached that realm. How could he not shudder with excitement?
Has dodging an opponent’s attack always been this exhilarating?
For thirty seconds, the relentless hammering had destroyed nothing but the floor. Not a single stray stone fragment had managed to even graze Jin’s collar.
How long are you going to keep scurrying away like a rat?
Goltep was not some amateur who would spout such a cliché line. Instead, a flicker of genuine admiration appeared in his glowing blue eyes.
“…Impressive!”
He paused his assault for a moment, looking down at Jin. Despite having swung the massive hammer dozens of times, Goltep’s breathing remained as steady as when they had begun.
“Just what are you? I have never heard of a human as young as you reaching such a realm. Are you using a disguise to hide your age?”
“Think what you will.”
“I can no longer classify you as mere prey. You are worthy of being offered upon the Altar of Javier.”
Javier of the White Wolf Tribe—the greatest warrior in the history of the beastmen. He was respected by all beastmen, but among the White Wolf Tribe, he was revered as a god.
A member of the White Wolf Tribe would only declare their intent to offer an opponent to Javier’s altar in two instances: when the enemy was strong enough to warrant a duel fought with all their honor on the line, or when the enemy was a Runcandel.
Goltep had judged Jin to be the former.
“I, Goltep Hapalep, shall from this moment forth face Jin Gray with all the honor of myself and the Hapalep clan. You shall become pure and untainted spiritual nourishment for Javier.”
“I see Kinzelo guarantees freedom of religion.”
“Indeed. It is a much better place than you might think. A pity you cannot join us.”
Zzzzzzt!
Goltep’s hammer began to swell. A light, incomparably brighter than before, illuminated his solemn face.
So he’s finally getting serious, Jin thought. It would have been too easy if that clumsy hammering was all he had.
Another layer of aura wrapped around Bradamante. Jin’s gaze, fixed on the beastman, grew cold and focused.
After taking a single breath to steady himself, it was Bradamante that tore through the air first. The blade, which had been held horizontally at cheek height, shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
It was fast.
So fast that Jin himself felt it, and so fast that Goltep struggled to track it with his eyes. Flash! Jin’s own eyes flickered as he followed the sword, which drew a single, brilliant line through the center of the cave.
Goltep swung his hammer upward with all his might.
Clang!
The resulting roar sounded not like a sharp blade meeting a blunt weapon, but like two massive weights colliding. As Goltep’s eyes widened in preparation for the next strike, he suppressed a surge of shock. Just how…
What kind of strength is this?!
The boy was using 7-star aura, but his body was clearly that of an adolescent who hadn’t even fully matured. Yet, the moment that sword strike landed, Goltep felt as if the palms of his hands would be torn open.
He overcame the difference in weight and overwhelmed the difference in reach. With every successive sword strike, Goltep was forced to revise his perception of Jin.
This wasn't the physical strength a normal 7-star knight could produce. As far as Goltep knew, there was only one source for such monstrous power.
“Runcandel…!”
But knowing the name of that blessed bloodline changed nothing. Jin didn’t answer, focusing every ounce of his consciousness into his sword.
Deflecting a giant hammer with a single blade, showering sparks with every impact… using the small, light body of a human to force a White Wolf warrior into retreat…
This was the very image of a Runcandel that he had dreamed of becoming since his previous life.
He had fought many battles since his regression, but never had he felt as proud of himself as he did today. Yes, a Runcandel’s battle should be exactly like this.
It should be this overwhelming. Every swing of the sword should make the opponent falter, eventually driving them to their knees in terror.
To one day make my enemies shudder in fear at the mere sight of me holding a sword.
That was the ultimate height the Runcandels aimed for. He felt as if that very philosophy was woven into the sword-light of Bradamante.
“Gwaaaaah!”
Whoosh! Shhhk!
Forced back, Goltep swung his hammer in a wide, desperate circle, trying to force Jin to take even a single step back.
The closer the distance, the more helpless Goltep became. While a long, massive weapon could generate immense destructive power, it was ill-suited for shaking off an enemy who had closed in.
Should I dodge?
Or should I parry?
If he parried, he would have to accept the strain on his body. Even with the blessed Runcandel physique and 7-star aura, a strike delivered with Goltep’s entire soul was bound to take its toll.
I’ll parry.
He discarded the more efficient choice for a single reason.
He wanted to savor the name ‘Runcandel’ a little longer. To shout to the world that he was a proud member of that family of mad monsters, that he was the most brilliant monster of them all, and that he was no longer a cast-off failure.
And that he would never forget those miserable years.
The desire to scream it all to the world pounded against his chest.
Claaaaang…!
At the moment of impact, the shock felt as if it would lift his entire body into the air. But the force that traveled up his blade swirled through his body before being discharged elsewhere. Still, he was forced back two steps.
Urgh! A metallic taste instantly filled his mouth. Blood that had risen in his throat seeped past his lips, and by the time he regained his stance…
He saw Goltep struggling to recover his flailing hammer. The beastman was also coughing up blood, two of his fingers broken and dangling limply.
When a Runcandel gives up their flesh, the opponent must give up their bones. When a Runcandel falls into a small mire, the opponent must tumble down a thousand-foot cliff.
Watching Jin charge again, Goltep couldn't help but sense his impending defeat. No matter how much he tried to push, shove, or strike, the boy refused to give him any distance.
For the first time in his life, he resented the giant hammer he had wielded for a lifetime.
“Damn it!”
Nevertheless, Goltep thrust his hammer forward again. He, too, was a warrior. A warrior who knew pride, honor, and how to accept defeat.
Now that the name of Javier had been invoked, he could not end the duel, even if it meant death.
As if his broken fingers were nothing, his hammer continued to move fiercely.
But it wouldn't last long. Each time Bradamante deflected his hammer, a vortex of surging aura tore through his body.
Huff, huff…!
The ragged breaths of Jin and Goltep drifted between their clashing weapons. Every time they gritted their teeth and swung, droplets of blood flew from their mouths, evaporating in the heat of their aura.
Clang! Clang-clang! Boom!
In contrast to Goltep’s desperate expression, the clashing metal produced a clear, crisp sound. Goltep’s aura was gradually fading, and Jin adjusted his strength accordingly. There was no longer any need to overexert himself.
The outcome had been decided.
“If I spare you, will you give me information about Kinzelo?”
Jin didn't know when he would encounter another Kinzelo executive. While there was Bubar Gaston, Kinzelo’s scale exceeded his expectations. How to approach the organization was a matter that required careful thought.
“Puhuhu… you must not know the laws of the White Wolf Tribe. Even if it weren't for Kinzelo, an informant faces only death. And now that this has become an honorable duel, it cannot be stopped. Jin Runcandel.”
“I know the laws. I only asked because life can sometimes be more important than laws.”
“There is not a single coward among the White Wolf Tribe!”
“Then I won’t commit the rudeness of asking again. To you, or any of your kin.”
“For a Runcandel, you are a decent fellow.”
Creeeeeak!
Goltep began to squeeze out the last of his aura. For a brief moment, he would be able to exert more power than he actually possessed.
It was the act of drawing upon one's life force—what martial artists often called True Energy—to fuel their aura. Seeing the hammer burning fiercely, Jin took a step back for the first time.
“Oh? We were just getting to the fun part. Don’t tell me you’re going to fight efficiently at the very end?”
If Jin didn't face him head-on, burning his life force would be useless. If Jin chose to dodge, Goltep lacked the strength to catch him and force him back into the fight.
Jin shook his head.
“No. As a fellow martial artist, I will show you my respect. I will grant you a fitting end.”
At that moment, Jin recalled his battle with Myuron Zipple.
The memory of cutting through the Hell Gate Myuron had opened… the veil that had briefly lifted from a certain realm while he was losing consciousness.
I will cut.
No one had ever taught him this.
But Jin was chanting a mantra, just as the magic swordsmen of the old Runcandel did when they gave their all. Cut. I will cut that…
Hiiiiiiing—.
Darkness spread along his blade. Smoldering spirit energy enveloped Bradamante, forming a black blade made of shadow.
“Ohhh…!”
Goltep let out an exclamation of awe as he faced that power, a look of honor on his face. Spirit energy—the very power the first Runcandel patriarch had used to send Javier to his eternal rest a thousand years ago.
While some in the White Wolf Tribe considered that power cursed and ominous…
Goltep felt that meeting the same end as Javier could only be an honor.
“Come, Jin Runcandel!”
I will cut.
The moment Jin moved forward, whispering his mantra.
Like a massive torch falling from the sky, Goltep’s hammer came crashing down. For an instant, the cave was illuminated by the brilliant light of his aura, flashing across both their faces.
Slice!
Bradamante’s black blade swallowed the light and cut through the hammer.
A clean bisection. As the two halves of the severed hammer fell to the ground, Jin’s face was revealed between them. Meeting that gaze, Goltep smirked.
Splllit…!
A half-beat later, Goltep’s body split in two. Jin sheathed his sword and let out a ragged breath.
Staring at Goltep’s corpse, Jin offered a brief, silent bow before turning to walk toward Enya.
“It was a good match, Goltep Hapalep. I will remember your name.”
With that simple eulogy, he left the warrior behind.