Chapter 20
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Atalanta, the Budding Psycho
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“Damn it! That bastard's pulling the same shit again!”
“Fuck! Everyone, form the rotating battalion! This time we'll smash through that damn boar!”
“Aaaah! Can't we just eat breakfast in peace for once?!”
“Hestia preserve us, when have we ever had a proper breakfast?!”
It wasn't their first or second rodeo. The kids swiftly fell into formation under Theseus and Jason's command, encircling Heracles in a setup that evoked memories of Galaga.
“Kuhehehehe! You whelps think a simple encirclement can break through me?”
“Hmph! Don't you realize we have backup this time?”
“Yeah! With Zeus's blessing, our greatest warrior is here to take you on!”
-Dianes! Dianes! Dianes!
The warriors, arrayed like a wall, banged their shields and stomped their feet, summoning their champion.
The spear master who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Chiron.
The other great hero even that monstrous Heracles had acknowledged as his equal!
But I couldn't answer their fervent calls.
Why?
“Insolent punk! Acting all high and mighty, you freshman scum!”
It was because Atalanta, who'd been fuming at my side, suddenly lunged at me with her sword.
“Whoa there.”
Of course, with my experience, I wasn't about to eat such a sloppy attack.
I twisted my body just enough to let her thrusting blade slip harmlessly between my armpit and side,
then seized her wrist with my other hand. Suddenly, Atalanta was trapped in my arms, both hands pinned.
“Ah, this is why being handsome is such a hassle. Even one of Artemis's shrine maidens ends up snuggled right up against me.”
“Y-You... filthy... lowlife...!”
As I smirked mockingly, Atalanta's sharp, beautiful features flushed crimson beneath her helmet.
She strained desperately to wrench her trapped hands free from my grip,
but her left hand was sealed at the inner and outer wrist points, trapped in my grasp,
and her right arm, yanked from my armpit only to be caught and paralyzed at the acupoint just a moment ago.
In short, all her means of attack were completely shut down.
“H-How... dare you insult me?!”
“The cries of the powerless ring so hollow. Where'd all that bluster from earlier go?”
“Eeeek!”
Atalanta thrashed wildly, buried deep in my embrace.
Like a butterfly caught in a spider's web, there was nothing she could do.
“...Hya!”
But then again, she was a hero in the making.
Feigning struggle to lure my guard down, she seized the moment and stomped down hard on my instep with her heel.
“Oh?”
-Boom!
Not a bad try, kid.
“Eeeeeeeek!!”
The gap between where her foot slammed into the earth and my neatly withdrawn one was exactly half a step.
That I'd dodged her strike so precisely infuriated this fiery beauty; her eyes blazed with murderous intent, as if she'd grind me to dust.
“Iyaaat!”
And so began our kicking battle.
Her hands were pinned, but from our earlier foot exchange, my balance had shifted too—her wrists stayed caught, but her arms were free.
Thanks to that, we spun in circles like we were about to break into song on some Alpine hillside,
trading furious kicks all the while.
-Thud thud thud thud!
-Smack! Smack! Smack!
Atalanta targeted my feet first, then shins, knees—stomping, kicking, even lunging for tackles,
unleashing every trick in the book. But each time, I pushed or pulled her to tangle her steps,
or kept a precise half-step distance with my footwork, evading it all effortlessly.
“Hah... hah... y-you... cheating with those dirty tricks...!”
“Not bad footwork for a dance. Right?”
Truth be told, the fight was decided from the start.
No matter how hard Atalanta attacked, with her arms pinned to me, her movements were inherently limited. She seemed versed in grappling,
but there was no way she'd beat me with footwork—the basics of martial arts basics.
‘Do you know how many years I've drilled footwork since dropping into this world?’
With me dominating her upper body too, she dangled like a balloon doll, dragged wherever I went. How could any attack land?
Seeing her already winded and heaving while I hadn't broken a sweat ignited her pride.
Flames flickered in those pretty ruby eyes.
“Die!”
“...Huh?”
That razor-sharp strike, fueled by her full power, even drew a grunt from me.
Bracing for her to dislocate my arm, Atalanta yanked me toward her with all her might,
aiming a devastating knee strike right at...
“You crazy bitch!?”
For the first time since our bizarre waltz began, I cried out and channeled inner energy to counter.
-Pow!
“Eeeeeeeek!”
“...”
Even as Atalanta pulled with everything she had, I withstood it with the Thousand Catty Drop technique,
and stomped down on her incoming knee in retaliation.
Suddenly, she was on her knees before me, both hands still gripped in mine.
“Tch... tch... y-you... I won't let you get away with this...!”
True to her psycho shrine maiden vibes, even with limbs pinned and immobile, her glare promised to shred me a hundred times over.
That aside...
“The spot you were aiming that knee kick at... it's exactly where I think it is, right?”
“...Hmph!”
Windstorm Spear Master Jang Cheon-ga once said: No matter how dire the life-or-death grudge match, targeting that spot goes beyond ethics—it's unbecoming of anyone wearing clothes.
Ultimate Martial Demon Jang Cheol-wan once said: Unless you're gasping your last in a true crisis, striking there transcends gender—it's no way for a human to act.
This pretty little budding psycho had targeted a man's most vital spot,
going for a killing blow in the heat of a morning spar, no less.
Utterly clueless about her own fault, she just ground her teeth in fury at being subdued—a total madwoman.
As expected from a wannabe psycho unicorn devotee; the resemblance was uncanny.
...Whew.
Calm down. Calm.
She's just a kid, after all.
I'd heard in home economics class in my previous previous life:
Kids around 15 start grasping the differences between boys and girls.
Before that, they don't really notice, leading to these kinds of mishaps.
“Hmph, so even a guy like you treasures that filthy thing!
How dare you grab and toy with a woman sworn to Artemis! The crescent moon will curse you!!”
...Looks like personal differences mean this budding psycho skipped that phase.
“So you knew exactly what you were doing when you went for that knee kick, huh?”
“Hmph! This humiliation, this outrage! If you don't want to suffer greatly later, kill me now.
You may defile my body, but my soul belongs to Artemis forever!”
...She knew full well and still targeted a man's most dangerous spot?
That's crossing the line.
“Crossed it big time.”
No matter that this was my third life, no matter my past as the lofty Heavenly Demon ruling the Central Plains.
This crossed the line—badly.
“Inscribe on Skin, Engrave on Bone... Let this etch into your flesh and marrow the line you must never cross.”
“Wh-What...?”
-Creaaaak...!
As my foot slowly bore down on her knee like a hydraulic press, building pressure,
her young face finally drained of color.
Her arms were splayed wide in my grip, and her knee pinned under my foot.
If I shifted my full weight, that knee would shatter.
“Y-You... you're serious?”
“Heard the healer here's pretty skilled. Let's see if he can fix a knee smashed to bits.”
Of course, I had no intention of actually breaking it.
No matter how obnoxiously she talked, even I wouldn't hate men if abandoned in the woods as a kid instead of being born one.
But sudden as it was, crossing that unforgivable line couldn't be tolerated.
‘Not just targeting my vitals...’
Even cornered at her young age, this wasn't a kill-or-be-killed duel—it was a spar she'd recklessly started.
Resorting to such cruel, extreme tactics proved her unstable temperament.
‘With roots like these, she'll end up offering suitors' heads as prizes and running death races because she hates marriage.’
Chiron had entrusted this filly to me, and she'd star in major Greek hero tales ahead,
so for the sake of all the lives she'd otherwise claim, I planned to fix that heart now.
‘Maybe dislocate the knee just enough.’
Asclepius had said yesterday that dislocations heal clean in a week of suffering.
With her legendary speed, losing a leg might teach her a lesson.
I was modulating the pressure on her knee when—
“Sniff!”
“Huh?”
A sudden sniffle made my pressing foot go slack.
With a bad feeling, I checked her face.
Her helmet had flown off in the chaos; her fierce face was smeared with sweat and dirt.
Her auburn bob, once in a ponytail, had come loose, soaked and limp like seaweed.
And those ruby eyes, brimming with venom.
Tears were now spilling from them drop by drop.
“Ugh... waaaah!”
“...Huh?”