Chapter 31
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: The Three-Thousand-Man Slayer
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“This is a device called a suppressor.”
A memory from just before leaving the Papal Office of Haraldoniki, from a time still nestled in the embrace of a summer the Abyss had yet to defile.
“Wear it on whichever wrist is more comfortable. Twist and pull the pin in the center like a key, and the power of the Dragon Spirit will be unleashed.”
It was the day his investiture ceremony had ended.
Stan, the chief smith of the Holy Workshop, held out a restraint that gave off a dull gleam.
“What happens if it’s left in?”
“It controls the Dragon Spirit in your body, preventing its power from being accidentally unleashed. The pin is reconstructed with mana, so it doesn’t matter if you lose it. Feel free to toss it aside after you pull it.”
It was said to be crafted from dragon bone, the hardest yet lightest material in the world, and designed not to interfere with combat.
“Thank you, Chief Smith.”
“A warrior like you, saying such things. I’m the one who’s sorry I have only this to give you as you head to the battlefield. But remember this. An explosive output of power will suddenly overwhelm your body. Even three minutes is a long time. Depending on how you use it, you could lose consciousness even faster.”
“So it’s a race against time. Thank you.”
The FakeWarrior took his stance.
The longsword in his hand, crying out in a bloody wail, was more demonic than divine.
As if the sword itself craved blood.
Were its master’s eyes any different?
A blade that yearned for death, for an endless pandemonium, flickered quietly in those golden eyes.
“How are you still alive?”
A dark, venomous energy swirled from the tip of Ranikikan’s staff.
The Amhyeonchung.
The ancient parasites from the distant age of the Abyss—said to burrow into the brains and spines of the living to seize control of their bodies—responded.
*Thump, thump, thump…*
The Amhyeonchung parasitizing their bodies whipped the Tahuf madmen into a frenzy.
The moment countless Uruks surged forward like a tidal wave.
*Wooooo*, Aradamanthel sang a song of blood.
*SHIIIIING—!*
A crimson arc tore through the air.
The upper bodies of dozens, hundreds of madmen caught in its path were ripped apart.
Fast.
So fast.
By the time the madmen exploded into gore, the FakeWarrior had already advanced far ahead.
To the ordinary eye, it looked merely like a red wheel spinning forward.
*‘So fast…'*
Watching the martial prowess unfold before her, Ria could find no words other than awe.
*‘What did he do? Hundreds of Uruks are dying in less than an instant.’*
Just then, Kaisen swallowed hard, suppressing the sharp pain in his furiously beating heart.
Dragon Spirit Release.
A golden tide that pushed a human’s physical abilities and reflexes beyond their limits, to the realm of a true dragon.
The backlash of that absolute power spreading to every corner of his veins.
Three minutes.
*I have to end this in three minutes.*
Each time Kaisen stomped his foot—*thud*—a sort of ripple spread out from his footprint, and—
One-Clash Afterimage.
—the Tahuf who saw that ripple felt the sky and earth begin to spin for reasons they couldn’t comprehend.
When the world stopped spinning, their gazes were fixed on the ground.
Through their dimming vision, they could see a headless corpse staggering.
It was their own body.
A chill ran down Ranikikan’s spine as he watched the surreal sword dance, momentarily mesmerized.
*‘That’s no simple slash. What is this? He’s on a completely different level from when we met earlier.’*
He knew that the FakeWarrior was a being who used a dragon’s power for physical enhancement.
With the power of a Dragon Word, which converted life force into strength.
But it was still just a Dragon Word.
*‘There’s no way a Dragon Word inscribed by a mere wyvern could produce such overwhelming power…'*
There were at least three thousand madmen arrayed before him. And he was just plowing straight through them?
*SHWIIIIING…!*
The warrior charged in a straight line, carving a path by cutting down everything that stood in his way.
It was, without a doubt, a path.
The only difference was that its materials were not bricks, but corpses and blood.
“Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel is breaking through the enemy lines alone!”
The spotter watching through his scope reported blankly.
“The Tahuf clan is helpless… they can’t even react. The FakeWarrior is still advancing!”
Krauzan, trembling at the rapidly changing battlefield, raised his hand and shouted.
“Covering fire! Support the FakeWarrior so he can get to the Tahuf chief! Don’t spare any bullets or shells, let them have it!”
At Krauzan’s command, the soldiers who had been watching the peerless display in a daze snapped back to their senses.
Though powerless compared to the holy sword’s blade, the barrage of bullets was enough to disrupt the madmen’s attempts to form a defensive line.
They didn’t have to worry about the FakeWarrior getting hit. He was too fast for even bullets to follow.
With the sound of a trumpet, the cannons aimed at the square vented steam.
“First rank, fire! Second rank, ready… fire!”
The riflemen waiting on the rooftops all pulled their triggers at once.
As soon as the gunpowder smoke began to clear, the cavalry of the Black Rose Corps charged out.
Amid urgent war cries, a bloody battle began with the madmen who were trying to surround Kaisen.
“Hyulleureu!”
Ranikikan shouted.
Unlike the common madmen, the Tahuf Hyulleureu were royal guards armed with ancient bronze weapons.
Driven berserk by Ranikikan’s dark arts, the Tahuf Hyulleureu charged, emitting an eerie black light from their entire bodies.
—Sipmunjado, Tenth Form.
At that moment, Kaisen.
Crossed his sword and scabbard in an X.
After blocking the attacks of the Tahuf Hyulleureu.
—Cross Decapitation.
Before the madmen’s bodies were instantly sliced into four pieces.
Before their flesh hit the ground, before the first drop of blood touched the earth.
Forward again, and again.
*‘Even the Tahuf Hyulleureu, each implanted with a hundred Amhyeonchung…?’*
Just then, the witches’ barriers, which had been scattered across the city, caught the ankles of the converging madmen, holding them in place.
“Tahuf!”
Just then, the cavalry of the Black Rose Corps crashed into the madmen trying to get behind Kaisen, perishing in a fiery explosion.
“What are you doing! Kill him!”
And just then, the Supreme Holy Sword Aradamanthel resonated with its wielder’s will.
The sword’s high cry as it cut through the wind. The crimson radiance exploding from its blade.
The sword light surged into a pillar of light, painting the world red as if flinging paint onto a canvas.
The radiance of that explosion was brutal and terrifying… yet noble. Before it, everything living was dyed in blood, in death.
A tremor.
Ranikikan’s eyes trembled. He felt a fear that overwhelmed reason.
*‘Who are you.’*
From within the dazzling explosion of light and the thick, swirling smoke, a shadow shot out the next moment, rushing right before his eyes.
*‘Who in the world are you.’*
Ranikikan’s staff sensed the danger and let out a viscous howl.
*‘The brand of the Valkrush clan… could this be the one who… cut down Kiral’s whelp?’*
There was no time to think.
Black light poured from Ranikikan’s eyes, waves of power rippling through the surrounding air.
His final secret art: implanting a thousand parasites into his own body to explosively enhance his physical abilities.
*CLAAAAANG—!*
The next moment, a blade of light and a spear of darkness clashed, and an eardrum-shattering shriek of metal spread low across the battlefield.
- *Kaisen.*
In that instant, red lines bloomed like a spiderweb in Kaisen’s vision.
They were the lines of death.
The flames of conviction guided by the Supreme Holy Sword.
- *How do you wish to use this thing called a sword?*
Faster.
Faster, and faster still.
His vision, amplified by the Dragon Spirit, made the world slow down. It made his body’s speed catch up to his mind’s.
*‘Ah…'*
Sharon couldn’t close her mouth.
The shiver that ran coldly down her back was one of wonder.
It was hard to even see the blade.
Only the afterimage of the blade sweeping through the world remained, blooming crimson petals in this cruel world.
*‘That reckless way of fighting… it’s just like Camilla…'*
Was it just a coincidence that, for a moment, her dead friend’s back was superimposed over her disciple’s? Her eyes blurred with longing.
*CHAAAAAANG!*
The resistance from the clashing blade shot through Kaisen’s wrist as if to shatter it.
His vision filled with splattering blood.
Pain pulsed vigorously through his chilling body. But still, still, he did not let go of the sword.
*‘You people… what do you think life is.’*
The chapel on the far side of the square collapsed under the absurd pressure of the holy sword’s wide swing.
*‘What do you think daily life is.’*
The moment Ranikikan flinched to resist the pressure, the moment the holy sword’s blade sliced off his right arm, sending blood spraying.
*‘What do you think people’s lives are.’*
The moment Aradamanthel roared, having followed up by deeply cutting Ranikikan’s left foot to neutralize his mobility.
*‘What kind of noble cause do you have that gives you the right to kill, steal, and trample over everything as you please.’*
The scabbard and staff clashed.
As the staff was knocked from his grasp by the fierce impact, spinning through the air.
*‘As if it’s all perfectly natural.’*
That instant.
That very brief instant.
*‘Is it natural to steal and trample because they’re weaker than you?’*
The instant Ranikikan’s opening was laid bare.
The instant he sheathed the Supreme Holy Sword with both hands and raised it high above his head.
The ancient Dragon Word carved onto Aradamanthel’s blade began to burn with a brilliant light.
*‘Don’t make me laugh.’*
That day.
The day his mother died in his place.
The will he had harbored in his weeping heart resonated with the holy sword’s Dragon Word.
—Sipmunjado Battoujutsu, Wood Chopper.
A slash delivered from a stance so beautiful it could be called artistic split the world in two.
Everyone who witnessed that one moment of divine combat was left breathless.
Because of a red thunderbolt that pierced the dark clouds of volcanic ash, dyed the horizon in black and white, and slammed into the battlefield.
It was a lightning bolt from a sword.
Half a beat later, a powerful shockwave swept past their ankles, and a full beat later, Aradamanthel sang out with a clear peal like thunder before its light faded and died.
There was only one person.
Standing in the silence after the lightning’s aftermath was only one person.
Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel.
Tahuf Kipel Ranikikan had been engulfed in the lightning of hellfire.
The Tahuf madmen who had piled up a mountain of flesh in the slash’s path to protect their master were no exception.
All their bodies were incinerated, burned to ash, leaving not a single shard of bone behind.
*‘Sword Ki…'*
Ria’s eyes widened.
Sword Ki.
To go beyond merely constructing a blade of mana with a mana chain, and to manifest that power in various forms.
*‘The very symbol of a master swordsman…'*
A dazed cheer escaped the lips of the soldiers who had watched the battle from beginning to end.
“We won…”
“He took the Tahuf chief’s head all by himself…?”
“Is this any time to be impressed?! They’re running away! Shoot them all down!”
That was as far as it went.
With their master gone, the Amhyeonchung ran rampant inside their bodies, and the madmen began to scatter, screaming.
Krauzan gave an order.
“Stop! Let them fall into disarray with the other Uruks. Reorganize the defensive lines. Hold the fifth line as long as possible and complete the withdrawal!”
And so the advancing Uruks of minor tribes and the madmen became hopelessly entangled, their bodies exploding…
The soldiers now only had to shoot down the few Uruks that occasionally broke through the defensive line.
That was all Kaisen could make out with his fading consciousness…
“Three minutes…”
He used his scabbard as a staff to support his collapsing body.
The backlash from using the Dragon Spirit was setting in.
For a mortal’s mind, a mortal’s soul, could not possibly withstand such a tempestuous flow of power.
“That was… a close one…”
He desperately clung to his consciousness, which was trying to enter a dormant state to protect his soul.
“Kaisen!”
A warrior must never show weakness to anyone. Just as Camilla never had.
“Snap out of it, Kaisen!”
“My lady, what’s wrong?”
“Something’s wrong with Kaisen! What is this? All the strength is draining from his body! As if that power just now was a mirage.”
“We’ll cover you!”
An instant that felt like an eternity.
The moment Ria ran over and supported him by the shoulder, everything came crashing down.
He tried to hold onto his consciousness, but all he could remember were fragmented pieces of the chaotic battle…
“…Dawn will be here soon…”
“…Status of the withdrawal…?”
“…This is the last of them. The defense force has been ordered to withdraw, too…!”
“…How, when Uruks are swarming from all sides…”
“…I will stay. We need a suicide squad of about a thousand…”
“…Your Excellency, how could you…”
“…Hurry! Aren’t those Naga bastards about to shatter the witches’ coastal barrier…!”
“…No, I’ll stay. The life Kaisen saved… maybe it was for this moment…”
“…Isla is the strongest in the world! Isla will stop them all…!”
“…That’s right. The giants can’t board the ships without their dedicated transports. So we…”
Chaos on the pontoon bridge, people arguing over who would fight, who would stay behind…
The shores of Kerkunude were shallow. Without a pontoon bridge, the warships couldn’t approach.
They had to use fishing boats to ferry people to the warships waiting in the deep sea.
Just then, the Naga broke the barrier and entered the coastal waters. Now they would destroy the boats from below and sink them.
“…Withdraw, withdraw…!”
“…Pull the ships back…!”
When his consciousness distantly returned, everything was gripped by despair and terror.
Then, the first dawn broke.
No, was it truly the dawn? What kind of dawn rises with such a clear cry?
It was not the dawn.
It was the radiance of a dragon, the roar of a dragon.
And yet, it was truly more beautiful than any dawn.
It was a tone he had never heard in his life. A cold, pure, and clear sound.
A pure tone that made it seem as if a tranquil lake was unfolding before his eyes—no, one that was actually unfolding.
With no strength to lift his head, he carefully moved only his eyes to look up at the sky.
His eyes.
It was dazzling.
For a moment, it seemed as if the first dawn had risen on this cruel, ash-filled night. Ria murmured blankly.
“The White Dragon of the Blue Star, Lord Mirngadia…”
Mirngadia of the Blue Star.
One of the Three Great Dragons, the three miracles left on this land by the Dragon Sage, Rain Ludwick, who had ushered in the Silver Age.
Even from this distance, its form was so noble and majestic it made one’s heart tremble.
“Kal.”
“Gurs.”
“Oufari.”
“Diale.”
At the white dragon’s command, nature itself prostrated. The sea began to churn and capsize.
A miracle.
The power of a god, which no human could ever wield.
A light of hope that should not exist in a world abandoned by the gods was made manifest.
First, the sea parted all the way to where the warships waited. At the end of the parted waters, raging waves rose up and swept the Naga far away.
The crying water, churning with white foam, became a tidal wave that crashed down upon the advancing Uruk ground forces.
The enemy was busy fleeing in panic from the deluge pouring into the city.
“It’s Lord Mirngadia!”
“Lord Mirngadia has come.”
“Lord Mirngadia, wipe them all out!”
The white dragon glided through the sky and cried out again.
At that, the shoreline rocks began to stack themselves neatly, creating a path up to the decks of the warships.
Before that miracle, countless people began to burst into tears. Not of sadness, but of joy.
It was only natural.
For in these final days, after the age of dragons had ended, the greatest of dragons had appeared at a miraculous moment.
***
After that.
The withdrawal fleet, filled with so many people that the water rose above the plimsoll line, arrived at Talia Island with a favorable wind.
The Naga that had relentlessly pursued the fleet were stopped by Mirngadia of the Blue Star and the witches.
“Nearly eighty percent of the forces defending the city died, but thanks to their sacrifice, a staggering 2.3 million lives were able to escape the clutches of the Abyss.”
The Kerkunude Withdrawal Operation.
This operation is considered one of the great victories that concluded the prelude to the ‘Red Summer.’
“However, before the prologue of the ‘Red Summer’ could end—that is, before humanity’s counterattack could begin—one more battle remained. The Battle of the Red Mountains.”