Chapter 376: Villain (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 376: Villain (3)
This current life.
His rapid growth was a natural outcome.
Having inherited his experiences as the Heavenly Demon in their entirety, he didn't find it strange at all that he—once called the Fool of Dmitry—was growing at such an explosive rate. Just as Chris, Kevin, and the now-deceased Henderson had grown from unremarkable individuals into powerhouses after meeting him, his own progress was well-founded.
However, at some point, he began to sense something strange.
When he absorbed the Flame Demon's flames in their entirety, Roman Dmitry realized his progress wasn't solely due to the power of his past life.
‘No matter how much I used the Flame Divine Art, absorbing that mass of the Flame Demon's fire into a human body requires undeniable talent. The problem is that this is completely different from ordinary talent. It is entirely separate from the realm of genius as people commonly understand it—such as having a high affinity for mana or innate physical superiority.’
When he first opened his eyes as Roman Dmitry, his physical condition had been at rock bottom.
His body was completely undeveloped, clogged with accumulated impurities, and showed absolutely no potential as a warrior. However, after undergoing Shedding Bones and Rebirth several times, he discovered the true nature of this new vessel.
There was no rejection.
Whether he used the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, the Flame Divine Art, or absorbed the mass of the Flame Demon's fire, the innate resistance that usually occurred when introducing something foreign to the body was remarkably weaker than anything he had experienced in his past life. Instead, his body accepted these forces almost instantly, as if they had always belonged to him. They were perfectly absorbed, manifesting over a hundred percent of their potential. This was what allowed Roman Dmitry to make such rapid, unprecedented progress in just a few short years.
Martial arts have limits.
There are absolute temporal limits to laying a foundation, gathering mana, and raising it to a certain realm.
Yet, living as Roman Dmitry, his rate of growth was far too fast, even factoring in his past life's experience.
His past life.
What realm had he reached at his current age back then?
Absurdly enough, he couldn't confidently say his past self had been superior to his current self.
Before his death, Baek Joong-hyuk had reached the Realm of Heaven and touched the sky, but during his growth phase in his late twenties, he had not possessed this level of strength. Unlike back then, when he had yet to escape his father's shadow, the Roman Dmitry of this life had already spread his wings, displaying an unprecedented rate of growth.
Had there been any special, miraculous encounters?
None.
There was no external help like elixirs; solely through his own training, he had surpassed the growth rate of his past life. This didn't mean he was currently stronger than his past self at his absolute peak. It simply meant that, purely in terms of growth speed, his progress in this life defied even the common sense of the Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk.
And so, several years passed.
Now, Roman Dmitry had arrived at the truth.
‘This body in my current life possesses a different kind of talent. An ignorant beginner wouldn't be able to do anything with this physically undeveloped frame, but for me, someone who retains the experiences of a past life, it is actually the optimal vessel.’
Come to think of it, he had known the answer from the very beginning.
Possession.
A body that remained perfectly fine even after accepting a soul that did not belong to it.
That alone was not normal.
The one everyone had pointed fingers at and mocked as the Fool of Dmitry was, in truth, born with a talent that no one could recognize.
It was certain.
The Roman Dmitry of this life... Ironically, his body was practically designed for an absolute master.
It was a body that no one could control unless they already knew everything from the start, bypassing the normal process of growth everyone else had to endure.
And into that very body, the soul of the Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk, had taken root.
* * *
Rumble!
Ruuuumble!
The world was dyed in a kaleidoscope of colors.
The Valhalla warriors charging from all directions risked their lives, unleashing their full power in a desperate bid to bring Roman Dmitry down. They knew the cost. Though many would die to deal with just this one man, as warriors of Valhalla, they believed there were values far more important than their own lives.
Countless auras.
Countless wills.
Gripping his sword, Roman Dmitry flared his aura toward them.
It was a single strike.
Taking the eighth step of the Heavenly Demon's Sovereign Step, Roman Dmitry unleashed his full power.
‘Heavenly Demon Sword Technique - Latter Half Second Form.’
Flash!
Light exploded.
A vortex of light that swallowed all sound enveloped the surroundings, followed by a deafening explosion that threatened to tear through their eardrums.
Boom!
Crash! Rumble!
It was a cataclysmic blast.
Thousands of warriors caught in the blast were instantly vaporized, and merely being within the radius was enough to tear a body to shreds. With a single strike, the entire area within sight was reduced to ruins. Although he had not yet reached the Realm of Heaven and could not perfectly execute the final form, Baek Joong-hyuk had conquered the Murim in his past life using only this eighth step.
Everyone lost their minds.
Human common sense had its limits.
The sight of thousands of warriors dying in a single attack was simply impossible to accept. Even Muroro, watching the situation from atop a tree, could not utter a single word. He had heard the rumors of how strong Roman Dmitry was. But the moment they realized that the rumors which had shocked and horrified the world did not even represent his full power, goosebumps broke out all over the Valhalla warriors' bodies. The primal urge to flee seized them.
The problem was, this was only the beginning.
That strike was just one of many. Roman Dmitry appeared right before their eyes for the next attack.
Boom!
Rumble!
Space itself was swept away.
The first warrior he encountered couldn't even let out a scream.
As that man and his surroundings were torn to shreds, the other Valhalla warriors gritted their teeth and tried to attack Roman Dmitry.
Flash.
He vanished.
When they strained their eyes, screams erupted from dozens of meters away.
"Aaargh!"
"Ugh!"
Rumble!
It was a terrifying display of movement.
Roman Dmitry unleashed his Ultimate Footwork, tearing through the surrounding forces and rendering the Valhalla warriors' encirclement utterly meaningless. Anyone who stood in his way was ripped apart. When they tried to block him by flaring their auras, the auras themselves shattered, and the Valhalla warriors met futile deaths without exception.
"For Valhalla!"
"For Valhalla!"
"If we turn this into a war of attrition, we will definitely win!"
The men screamed in desperation.
The Emperor of Valhalla was dead.
The scene unfolding right before their eyes made it impossible for them to retreat, no matter how powerful the enemy they faced.
They charged.
And they died.
Roman Dmitry's presence swelled terrifyingly as he severed heads and tore bodies apart with every step he took.
Crunch.
He crushed a head underfoot.
Letting the blood splatter directly onto his face, Roman Dmitry severed dozens of heads in the blink of an eye. The sight of the world being dyed in red was truly a grim spectacle. Whenever he unleashed the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique, space itself was swept away. He plunged into the dense crowds of enemies, slashing indiscriminately. They were utterly disoriented. They tried desperately to attack Roman Dmitry, but the situation shifted wildly with every blink.
Blink.
A scream echoed from the right.
In a space that had just been swept clean, a warrior who had been swinging his sword with a face full of spite was sliced in half along with his blade.
Blink.
This time, it was the left.
Blood splattered every time Roman Dmitry swung his sword. Amidst the chaotic, tangled clash of blades, only his attacks produced meaningful results. And when too many warriors swarmed him, the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique was unleashed again. The powerful strike that swept through space rendered their numerical advantage completely meaningless.
Blink.
They strained their eyes.
They thought there was still a safe distance between them, but Roman Dmitry appeared right in front of a Valhalla warrior and crushed his head.
Thud.
It was a horrifying sight.
Just how many had died already?
Muroro trembled violently.
"...A-A monster."
Only now did he realize.
It wasn't their opponent who had fallen into a trap.
Roman Dmitry had stepped in knowing full well it could be a trap. The battle unfolding now was not a hunt, but a war. A war of one against hundreds of thousands. Even at the cost of hundreds of thousands of lives, there was no guarantee they could kill this single man.
But, did they know?
Roman Dmitry's Heavenly Demon Sword Technique displayed immense explosive power.
Though he unleashed attacks that swept through space, the true nature of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique was not meant for fighting crowds. It was a single strike that concentrated absolute power in an instant. It was only because the opponents couldn't withstand it that the surroundings were swept away by the devastating aftermath; the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique was originally designed to strike down a single enemy.
Which meant, no one had been able to withstand even a single blow.
To the point where they couldn't even exchange proper strikes, Roman Dmitry crushed his opponents with overwhelming might.
There was definitely a limit.
Mana was not infinite, and there would be an end.
Muroro knew this, but he also knew he wouldn't live to see that end.
"Is this your full power?"
Right before his eyes, Roman Dmitry appeared.
* * *
There was no time to counterattack.
The thought of spotting his opponent and attempting a counter registered in his mind, but by the time he snapped back to reality, blood was already spurting from his severed right arm.
"Aaargh!"
Thud.
He fell from the tree.
Crashing onto the ground, Muroro screamed in agony.
He gritted his teeth.
Struggling to push up his trembling body, Muroro guarded his surroundings with his remaining left arm.
"Come! I will face you!" he shrieked in desperation.
He bellowed at the top of his lungs, his mouth stained with blood.
The truth of Valhalla.
He wasn't ignorant of it.
When Roman Dmitry had mentioned that the Emperor of Valhalla might be Kronos's dog, Muroro had felt a profound sense of misery. Everyone had suspected it to some degree—the thought that there might be a conspiracy behind Valhalla heading in the wrong direction. Roman Dmitry had revealed that truth publicly, but even after witnessing it with their own eyes and hearing the facts, the warriors of Valhalla could not accept reality.
Valhalla was a nation of warriors.
A nation that valued honor over death.
Even if this country were to perish, they could not bring themselves to speak the ugly truth aloud.
The great warrior Carlos.
People did not know how he truly met his end.
He, who had spoken of the existence of the ugly truth, had spent his final years in loneliness before being found hanged in his own home.
This was the very foundation of Valhalla.
Even if some criticized them as foolish, and others called it futile, they would rather die on this spot than admit that the ugly truth was real.
"I am Muroro of Valha—"
Thud.
His head flew off.
He couldn't even see the blade, let alone react.
And that was merely one of the countless deaths that would follow.
* * *
He slashed.
He slashed, and slashed again.
Like a blood-drenched evil ghost, Roman Dmitry slaughtered his enemies, baring his teeth.
"Tell me. Tell me this isn't your full strength. Tell me you are stronger than this, enough to push me to my limits."
Like the gluttony of a starving ghost, a deep thirst arose within him.
In his past life, he had reached the absolute pinnacle long before meeting his end.
He hoped this life would be different.
With no one able to properly withstand his sword, Roman Dmitry was not surrounded by enemies; instead, he plunged deep into their ranks, committing wholesale slaughter. The situation had completely reversed. They had surely thought they had trapped Roman Dmitry, but instead, Roman Dmitry was the one hunting them.
His throat burned with thirst.
He drove Valhalla into a corner.
At the end of all this, Alexander would be waiting.
And he was certain that Alexander possessed something that would finally force him to unleash his full power.
However, his overwhelming might began to crack their unyielding resolve.
"...T-This is wrong!"
"Retreat! Regroup with the main army first, then we will attack Roman Dmitry again!"
Muroro had been their focal point.
Fearing that staying here would only lead to meaningless deaths, the Valhalla warriors began to falter and retreat. Valhalla's honor was trampled underfoot by overwhelming might. The Southern Jungle was vast, and since Roman Dmitry was alone, they rationalized to themselves that there would surely be another opportunity to deal with him.
The warriors of Valhalla retreated.
They fled.
Those who had swarmed this honorable land ran in all directions like frightened children.
It was a fact Muroro had overlooked.
Though he had sacrificed his life despite knowing the truth, not everyone had remained as steadfast as him through the decaying years.
It was over.
After the tempestuous battle subsided, Roman Dmitry looked up at the sky, his eyes filled with a hollow emptiness.
"I hope the reason I was summoned to this world wasn't simply to save it."
His thirst remained unquenched.
In the end, he hadn't even been able to unleash his full power.
Whether it was Alexander or whoever pulled the strings behind him, if this was all they had, he would be deeply disappointed.
He had not yet reached the realm of his past life.
To satisfy this thirst, there had to be an existence that threatened him, forcing him to reach that realm and aim even higher. Thus, he sincerely prayed. He prayed that Alexander had spent a long time preparing. He prayed that the unknown power Alexander possessed was formidable enough to truly threaten him.
It was then.
"...Ah."
A groan leaked from afar.
Looking toward the sound, he saw Sanchez, who had just regained consciousness, staring at Roman Dmitry with a look of utter shock.