Chapter 130
Chapter 130
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: The Fall of the Beast Sword
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Last night, while Saladin was handing a sleeping bag to Luna amid their mutual probing, I sent a quiet telepathic message to Saladin and Set.
-Don't make it obvious, but listen up. From now on, if it comes to a fight with them, I'll let you know your positions in advance.
-A fight? Why? Weren't we planning to take down Viscount Genos together?
-We were. But Marquis Crank is a loyal servant of the Empire and an enemy of the Alliance. Once we deal with Genos's viscount, they'll realize we're not on the Empire's side and stab us in the back.
I was certain of it.
They were so focused on us that I had no way to inform Beskin and Aria, who couldn't use telepathy.
So I instructed Set to subtly clue in Aria and Saladin to do the same for Beskin via written notes in passing moments.
And among them, Saladin had the most crucial role in this fight.
That's why I'd emphasized it to him twice, three times.
-Listen well. If a fight breaks out...
'I told him not to step forward under any circumstances, but to fall back and slowly position Mimi and Nene in ambush.'
When fighting the viscount, I'd secretly maneuvered the flying Mimi and Nene—struck by magic—onto treetops and into magically dug pits.
At the time, I hadn't understood why bother with such hassle.
But Jerome's advice from back then...
Right now, in this moment, it delivered a fatal blow to Marquis Crank.
Pfuk! Pfuk! Pfuuk!
"Kuhk!"
As expected of one of the Four Marquises. Even caught off guard by the ambush, Crank blocked most of the aura-piercing projectiles.
Yet the attack fully exploited the element of surprise, so some of Mimi's darts slipped through his defenses.
That was enough.
Mimi's shredding darts were all coated in Nene's special poison.
Kwajik!
Finally, as Crank savagely split Mimi—who had closed in after unleashing all her projectiles—with his jagged sword, he furrowed his brow.
"How... did you fool my senses...?"
"It must be hard to comprehend, Your Lordship."
Marquis Crank's face plainly showed his utter bafflement at the situation.
"We already knew your senses were extraordinarily sharp. That's why we expected you'd block most of my attacks. Truly, the Beast Sword lives up to its legendary reputation."
I smirked mockingly at the marquis.
"But what about inanimate objects?"
"Kuh... what nonsense is this?"
"No matter how superhuman your senses, Your Lordship, you wouldn't sense a threat from a roadside pebble."
"...No way?"
"A puppet without its puppeteer's power infused is just a lifeless doll. That's why we lured you into position."
I glanced at the hole Nene had vanished into underground.
"Heh... So even this was all part of your calculations."
Marquis Crank seemed unable to hide his admiration for the unexpected tactic, despite being the enemy.
But I wasn't the first to think of it.
It was just an adaptation of the method Kandar's past-life self had used to capture Marquis Crank.
Of course, it wasn't something just anyone could pull off.
No matter how inanimate the tool, if the user couldn't perfectly mask their 'intent' with flawless emotional control, Crank's superhuman senses would detect it.
That's why I'd told Saladin not to look my way but to watch Beskin's fight.
I didn't want him accidentally revealing emotions with his overdramatic flair and ruining the setup.
Beetle!
As the poison spread, Marquis Crank's movements grew sluggish bit by bit.
"Now, it seems I'm the one with the advantage, Your Lordship."
"Kuk! Aren't you ashamed to bear the name of the Shield Family's direct lineage?"
Crank clearly never dreamed that I—a direct heir of a continent-renowned noble house—would resort to ambush over a fair duel.
But.
"Not at all. Why should I be ashamed?"
His words fell on deaf ears.
"You tried to ambush me first, didn't you, Your Lordship?"
When eliminating enemy talent, quibbling over honor or fairness was the real joke.
Especially in a remote place like this—why bother with face-saving?
"Hmph, even so. If you're a dingo, at least the knight you brought should—!"
"Your Lordship."
Crank seemed to pin his hopes on Dingo of the Treasure Urn Palace, but.
"Your senses must be badly dulled by the poison. You still think that after seeing him?"
"...!!"
Incredibly, Dingo was freezing up like an ice statue before Beskin.
Of course, Beskin's armor was cracked and shattered from Dingo's knuckle strikes in places, so it wasn't a situation Crank could confidently call in his favor.
Wuuuuung!
As I drew up the energy of the Adamantine Unyielding Aura, the air itself wailed.
"Time to wrap this up. We're busy, after all."
"You damned brat!"
Paaak!
Crank's sword swung even more ferociously in rage.
The immense power within was nothing to scoff at, even wounded by Saladin's poison.
A wounded beast grows even more dangerous than usual.
Like a seasoned hunter, I didn't rush but slowly deflected Crank's blade.
Then, at one point.
Kang!
Kigik, kigik, kigik!
Crank's jagged sword was caught between my gauntlets, unable to move further.
"Your Lordship... now that sword is mine."
"...Insolent whelp!"
Ppeok!
The marquis's kick to my solar plexus used the rebound to wrench his sword free from my gauntlets.
"Think this Beast Sword will fall to the likes of you—not even the Heavenly Shield himself?!"
Heavenly Shield.
My father's epithet, the Heavenly Shield.
"That's not a name for the likes of you to utter lightly."
The great name of the one who fought alone against the Empire's Three Swords and One Staff from his throne.
Spoken by some beast with a sword for a title...!
The aura gathered in my gauntleted hands condensed, dying black.
Kugugugugugu!
"Let's see you block this, if you can."
A trapped, wounded beast? I could handle it alone.
"...I just can't figure him out."
Saladin muttered, watching Jerome—still an onion of endless layers after years together.
Nene had used up her stored poison, and Mimi was wrecked by that brute.
To a puppet master like Saladin, losing both puppets meant combat incapacity.
All he could do was twiddle his thumbs and watch his friend battle the Empire's beast.
'What the hell is that guy's real deal?'
When he'd first sweet-talked him, Jerome seemed a sly merchant with ten eels in his belly. Other times, just a talented noble's son.
When ordered to assassinate Marquis Crank, Saladin thought he'd misheard.
He understood Crank's shock all too well.
No one expected a Shield Family heir—the cream of the elite—to stoop to ambush.
Yet what tipped the scales decisively was his own darts and poison.
And the profound scheme accounting for it all.
"...Alright, I've seasoned it just like you asked."
So show me the picture you're painting once more.
Like always.
Kwaaaang!
"Kuk!"
As Jerome's gauntlet grazed Crank's head in a desperate dodge, the wind pressure from the punch tore the marquis's cheek, blood bursting forth.
"What's wrong, Your Lordship? You seem sluggish."
"Shut your mouth!"
Marquis Crank gnashed his teeth.
Beast Sword.
The name that had terrorized the Alliance from the Holy Empire's central border for over a decade.
When he'd rampaged across the vast central front, the brat before him—blood not even dry—was a powerless greenhorn.
No, not even that. A 'worm.'
To his house, his kingdom, the whole continent.
A pup born under a tiger, no—a worm unworthy of scorn.
Crank couldn't bear that such trash now threatened his life.
Kiiiiing!
Sparks flew as his jagged sword clashed with the boy's leg.
He hated to admit it, but he had to.
The worm once mocked by the continent was no longer a weakling he could disdain.
Kwang!
He ignited aura along his jagged sword, widening the distance from the greenhorn.
"...Hah. To think I'd be pushed like this by someone not even a kingdom master—let alone the Heavenly Shield. A mere whelp with no dried blood on his head... I admit it. Your martial prowess."
Juruk!
Red blood from his churning guts trickled from Marquis Crank's mouth.
Crank raised his jagged sword overhead, drawing mana from his dantian.
Kugugugugugu!
A beastly aura began boiling around the marquis.
Like a predator filled with intent to snap its prey's neck at the slightest lapse.
"Pathetic. This technique wasn't meant for trash like you... but survive first. Try blocking it."
At his words, I spread my stance, gathering both hands at my waist.
"I expect great things."
The air quivered, warping the surroundings.
A branch clinging to a shattered massive tree finally fell.
Tak!
At the tiny snap, the marquis and I charged without a word.
Beast Sword Seventh Form: Flesh-Tearing Blood Splash.
Crank's jagged sword lunged like a bloodthirsty beast's fangs, targeting my body everywhere.
That condensed, hyper-condensed vicious power rendered aura or steel meaningless.
Trusting crude steel naively would get me devoured instead.
So.
'I'll punch through.'
I blocked the jagged sword ripping at my right thigh with my gauntlet and slammed my opposite shoulder into Marquis Crank.
The marquis met it shoulder-to-shoulder, no intent to yield in close quarters.
Kuwoong!
Our aura-wreathed shoulders collided, space buckling between us.
If he was a swordsman, I was a fighter.
With his sword sealed, advantage mine!
I whipped my collided left arm upward, aiming for his jaw.
"!"
His head snapped back; my left fist's energy pulverized the tree behind.
Chwajajajak!
A red line of blood appeared on my upward-swinging left hand.
In the marquis's opposite hand—a small dagger.
In the warped air, his lips curled.
As if saying, 'Who said my sword is just this jagged blade?'
Of course, I knew.
Deok!
Bloody left hand snatched his nape faster than it rose.
"!"
Left hand on his neck, right on his sword.
Both hands sealed mutually; I felt him guard his lower body.
Assuming kicks were my only option now.
'Time to shatter that delusion!'
I yanked his neck with all my left-hand strength, thrusting my head faster.
Kwaaang!
"!"
His mouth gaped from the skull-cracking forehead bash.
A headbutt.
Unforeseen, surely.
The kind of cheap street-thug move, third-rate trash. No one'd expect a Carviot heir in a noble brawl like this.
But.
'It's all in how you use it!'
My steel-hardened, aura-clad head was a vicious murder weapon itself.
Pain rocked me; his body staggered open.
I clawed diagonally at the gap with hooked fingers.
Grabbed his dagger wrist, tore viciously.
Kung!
True stance stomped, shattering his right anklebone.
Peudeudeuk!
Twisted my foot into the shards, grinding bone.
He swung his jagged sword in counter. Razor-sharp despite agony-induced haze.
That vicious blade.
Kkaduk!
I bared teeth, bit down.
Pounded the fixed blade flat with my right hand, shattering the sword.
His body gaped again from the breakage recoil; I elbow-smashed.
"...Kheuk!"
Kicked his spurting torso with full force.
"!"
Kwaaaang!
Compressed aura's repulsion hurled his body even farther.
Finally, gripped the dropped broken jagged sword between both hands and snapped it.
Udeuk!
Gazing at the dust cloud rising where he'd crashed, I steadied my churning internals from the massive recoil.
Felt like collapsing any second, but still.
I stood tall, facing his direction.
So what if it's dirty?
So what if it's sneaky?
To eliminate the enemy, I'd endure anything.
"My... victory."
Today, here in the Dragon Mountains.
I felled the foe I couldn't handle in my past life.