Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Slaying the Troll Chieftain
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Chwachwachwachwa!
Graceful and unrelenting.
Ian's movements evoked the image of a bold painter's brushstrokes.
It was like a sword dance that inevitably captured the eye.
Only one difference set it apart.
What moved with Ian's motions wasn't a brush, but a sword.
And the canvas where the sword danced wasn't paper, but the troll's body.
Naturally, what adorned that body wasn't ink or paint, but Atilla's blood.
"Kraaaaaaargh!!!"
Overwhelmed by waves of agony, Atilla let out a scream of torment.
Paaak!
Atilla wildly swung the spear Ian had dodged.
There was no reason to stand under a pouring downpour.
Ian halted his frenzied blade dance and unfurled his Blood Cloud Step, leisurely widening the distance.
"Huff... huff..."
Drenched in blood in an instant, Atilla exhaled ragged breaths.
"......"
Even as the situation rapidly tilted in his favor, Ian didn't open his mouth. Instead, he charged at Atilla once more.
No, it wasn't that he chose not to speak—he couldn't.
With the three gates up to the Manipura chakra in his abdomen opened.
Considering his current realm, he should have been cautious even with a single gate, yet he'd thrown open three.
It was recklessness akin to leaping into fire while carrying kindling.
If he had time to utter a word, striking once more was the wiser choice.
"...Insolent whelp of a human!"
Kudududuk!
As Atilla poured strength into the spear blade, a murky energy began to coalesce.
As Atilla chanted the chilling voodoo incantation, eerie presences gathered around his spear.
Monstrosities distinct from spirits—abominations only trolls wielding voodoo could summon.
Entities the Eastern Continent called ghosts.
"I've prepared a feast for you—go and devour it!"
The ghosts lunged at the charging Ian with horrific laughter.
But Atilla didn't stop there.
This human was dangerous right now.
That alarm blared endlessly in one corner of his mind.
Kiiiiing!
The fearsome energy massing on Atilla's spear slammed into the ground, and the cave floor between him and Ian surged viciously toward Ian.
It was the secret art Munjuk had used: Earth Shatter.
Not just voodoo, but a technique rivaling Sophia's Crimson Lotus Blaze assaulted him.
Waves of earth pregnant with monstrous power, and ghosts frolicking atop those waves.
In this spine-chilling spectacle that made knees buckle just to witness, Ian didn't evade—he simply pressed forward, ever forward.
Kugugugugu!
"Huff... heh heh, no human could overcome this power. Quite the tenacious one."
Was it because he'd unleashed such potent techniques at once?
The previously composed Atilla let out a dry sigh.
Yet he had no doubt this would end the fight.
He'd marshaled so much energy, after all.
But when Atilla raised his head to check the outcome, his eyes widened in shock.
Kwakwakwakwa!
Earth waves filled his entire field of vision, crashing down.
No matter how vast, this was a cave.
Meaning evasion options were limited.
And with the dirt completely filling every visible space, there was nowhere to dodge.
Thus, Ian's choice was simple.
'Break through.'
Simply advance with all his might.
Swaeeeeek!
An egg ghost disguised as a tumbling stone amid the waves gaped its maw wide and lunged at Ian.
The head-hunting Doeksini, clutching a club, plummeted from atop the waves toward Ian.
That wasn't all.
A two-tailed Imiho, a one-legged unicorn ghost, a Jukwi said to ride sick horses.
They hungered not just for his flesh, but his soul.
The danger of voodoo ghosts, far weaker than spirits, was simple.
Even highly trained knights, let alone ordinary humans, couldn't escape them unscathed.
To those who felt fear toward them, their conceptual power became manifest.
The more fear one felt, the stronger the ghosts grew, spiraling into a vicious cycle of terror.
Thus, there was only one way to overcome ghosts.
Fear them not.
But since most humans never encountered troll voodoo...
Average folk stood defenseless before them.
Yes.
'If they were average humans.'
'A mere egg, of all things.'
Puwook!
He tore apart the egg ghost's grotesque head with his lesser chain.
Sliced the Doeksini in half, crushed the unicorn ghost's leg underfoot, severed the Imiho's tails.
Ian broke through the ghosts' onslaught like a hot knife through butter.
He thrust his greater chain straight into the waves of earth.
Chwarururuk!
Shaping the chain like a link into a spinning circle at high speed, the massive dirt mound split left and right around it, flowing backward.
Like a boat cleaving a river.
How far had he advanced?
As the surging waves ended, a troll stared at him with bulging eyes and a look of horror.
"H-How... how did you dispatch the ghosts so easily...!"
"Did you think trifles like that would instill fear in me?"
Ian knew of voodoo ghosts too.
But knowledge didn't save one from troll voodoo.
Except for him—it truly held no sway.
He'd lost his nation, led those fleeing behind him down paths to death.
That terror and regret dwarfed mere ghosts.
"Now, it's my turn."
Chwarurururuk!
Ian scattered both his greater and lesser chains.
Following his hands, two beams of light pierced through the flying dust with ominous whooshes.
"...Persistent bastard!"
To think he'd overcome Earth Shatter and the ghost ploy.
But that was the end.
He'd already experienced the human whelp's weapon.
A blade in form, but by the wielder's will, it extended like a whip.
The whelp's mastery was godlike, but that was it.
Atilla had found its weakness.
'Lacks raw destructive power.'
Even before taking Munjuk's body, and just now with the dual blades.
The whelp always shaped it into a sword form before striking.
He had no choice.
With those underdeveloped muscles, it couldn't pierce his hide.
In other words...
'That strike is just a feint.'
Impressive breaching the waves, but hesitation would open a gap for attack.
'Just the first one. Block that, and it's over.'
Then grab the whelp's blade, drag him in, and crush him like before.
Chwaruk!
Two blades hurtled fiercely with shockwaves.
Deflect one aside, smash down on the other aiming for vitals with the spear shaft.
No—as he swung down...
Whoooong!
"...?!"
The motion shifted, and Atilla's spear whistled emptily through the air.
In the instant Atilla swung, Ian manipulated the lesser chain to evade the trajectory.
And it didn't end there.
Chiriririt!
The small serpent swiftly coiled around Atilla's hand gripping the spear blade.
Wooong!
Blood-red energy gathered on the blade.
"W-Wait a moment!"
As his skin sliced away bit by bit under the crimson aura, Atilla cried out desperately.
If that aura-clad blade moved, his hand's fate was obvious.
Ian said nothing, but his eyes told Atilla everything.
What would happen next.
Shiiiiiing!
Like a serpent constricting captured prey.
The taut lesser chain followed Ian's motion, crushing Atilla's right hand.
Kwajak!
"Kraaaak!"
Overwhelming pain whitened his vision.
Flesh burst open, leaving only bone.
Blood streamed from the wrist, staining the bone red.
"......"
Step, step!
A chilling expression on his face, Ian approached Atilla slowly.
Atilla, smeared with pain and fear, backpedaled with each step.
"D-Don't come closer."
Step, step!
Ian ignored him and kept advancing.
"I said don't come! Stop those feet right now!"
No reply.
Backpedaling, Atilla hit the cave wall, unable to retreat further.
And finally, Ian stood before him.
Without a word of needless talk, Ian thrust the greater chain straight into Atilla's throat.
Puwook!
"Keurk...!"
Thud!
The massive body crumpled, sending a faint tremor through the cave wall.
The quake was minor, but its ripple effect was anything but.
It halted every battle within the cave.
"Kruk, krurk...!"
No voice emerged from the froth-bubbled throat.
Throat pierced, Atilla reached with trembling arms to extract Ian's chain, but to no avail.
The chain impaling his neck had already coiled tightly around it.
The moment Ian pulled, Atilla's life would end.
No troll, no matter their regeneration, could survive a severed head.
No monster could.
Yet for some reason...
Ian paused his hand from drawing the blade.
Atilla, bleeding profusely, spat words of resentment.
"Kr...uk... So unjust, so unjust. With this body, I could have... avenged... Iron Mask... for sure..."
Pfft!
But Ian sneered at him.
Utterly.
"You, who couldn't even beat me, dreaming of defeating Iron Mask? What nonsense."
"Kr...kuk! You know... nothing, human... Heh, then again... same as me. Until I took... Munjuk's body... I was blind too."
Had possessing his subordinate's body via voodoo revealed something?
"Out of respect... for the youth who bested me... one thing. Don't think... your human foes... are just the Great Calamity. In this Agena... the most vicious and foul... are you humans."
"What do you mean?"
"Kuh... kukuku! Figure the rest... out yourself."
Pusuk!
With those final words, Atilla pressed his throat against Ian's blade himself, widening the wound.
...Thud!
Ian silently watched Atilla's head fall, unable to bear the weight.
Confirming it, Ian released his Blood Gate.
...Ziiing!
'...Kugh!'
As the Blood Gate closed, chains only he could feel locked the three opened gates.
With it came the backlash.
In his fading vision, he saw the Latent Dragon Squad and Heaven Flower Unit halting their fights and rushing over.
'...I'll leave the rest to you, Sophia.'
That was his duty fulfilled.
With Sophia's abilities, she'd handle it.
The clan's star could manage that much.
Thud!
With that thought, Ian's vision went black.
Capital of the Khan Empire, Kahorin.
In its depths, birds with leg scrolls constantly came and went, and crystal orbs for communication magic blinked ceaselessly.
This was the Intelligence Hall, managing not just imperial, but countless events across Agena.
Continental hegemony wasn't won by strength alone.
Without the empire's vast purview, one couldn't steer the political landscape.
Among them, the one handling Great Calamity intel was none other than Kaidu's adjutant.
Under Kaidu's orders, secretly deploying the Hundred Ghosts Unit made it natural for him to oversee Calamity info.
Flip, flip...
The Great Calamity was an area humans could scarcely approach.
Thus, most related intel was shoddy.
Yet the adjutant never skimped on a single line.
Amid the sea of reports, there might be something tied to his lord Grand Duke Kaidu's mission.
Flip, flip...
His hands, ceaseless from dawn to dusk...
Stilled!
They froze as if time had stopped.
But his gaze, locked trembling on one sentence, betrayed profound shock.
"Th-This won't do. I must report to the Grand Duke immediately..."
The adjutant bolted up hastily.
- Birch Forest Troll: Deceased.
The lone sentence on the desk document was scrawled in red ink.
As if stained with the bloody import of its content.