Karmic Retribution (2)
I stared at the soaring flames of hell.
……Even more welcome than the level-up messages.
The Sword Saint who fell to become a demon, only to be defeated by me and cast into hell.
Shegwin.
Thud—
There he was, emerging from the flickering flames.
If you're wondering how I summoned Shegwin, who has no ties to Akshan, with Akshan's Legacy…
—"A pride that not even death can break."
……Is this another case of burying the lede with pride?
It was just another day of grinding away at my tasks, as always.
To be precise, I was in the midst of that damn grindfest of a class, the demon hunter's training quest.
"Benign competition is ever welcome."
It's no fun suffering alone. I don't buy that sharing sorrow halves it, but sharing the grind definitely does.
Two heads are better than one, even for grinding.
To be brutally honest about my evaluation of the Akshan demon hunters: aside from demon slaying, what could they do well?
I had my doubts. But they're still my seniors, right? Maybe they'd share tips on leveling Tenacity more efficiently, or ways to slack off during training.
With those hopes, I pulled out the Torch of Hell.
Whoosh!
But what emerged from hell's flames wasn't who I expected.
It was none other than Shegwin.
I didn't show it, but I nearly passed out for real…!
I'd summoned an Akshan demon hunter, so why the hell did Shegwin pop out of the flames?
Before I could even grasp the situation.
Zap!
Shegwin's gaze locked on me, brimming with killing intent.
At first, I thought it was resentment from his lifetime defeat at my hands.
Well, technically, he lost to Guiche…
But no matter how hard he glared, I wasn't one to back down.
So I calmly continued my training quest and said,
"Thou hast grown more prideful than before."
……More prideful? Now you're inventing words that aren't even in the dictionary, Grandfell?
I watched warily, unsure what he'd say back.
Thankfully, Shegwin said nothing.
No—he couldn't.
Hell's rules. Just like the Akshan demon hunters, Shegwin couldn't speak to the living me.
If you're asking how I knew about hell's rules, I'd just point to Guiche at my waist.
—"So that's what happened, Atlas."
My sword Guiche and Shegwin's beloved blade, Atlas.
Swords could converse freely, rules be damned.
Thanks to that, I learned from Guiche what had happened to Shegwin.
And it all made sense.
I get why he'd resent me!
The effect of Sublime triggered.
That subtle shift kept Shegwin from becoming a full demon; he fell to hell as a demon harboring pride in his heart.
And in that hell, there were others in the same boat.
That's right.
Demon hunters who fell to corruption after slaying demons—but never abandoned their pride. My Akshan seniors.
Shared suffering.
That was the spark that reborn Shegwin as a demon hunter.
So what was with the resentful glare?
What else? Even the Sword Saint trembled at the grind-heavy Akshan training volume.
But who is Grandfell?
A tougher nut than even the Akshan seniors, in some ways.
He wouldn't let this unexpected reunion slip away.
"Then, without further ado, let us begin the training."
"……?"
"This time, 'tis a contest of benign rivalry, Shegwin."
"……!"
Click!
Shegwin joined the fray.
I couldn't gauge his full power.
But one thing was certain.
He's probably even stronger than back then…?
Setting aside senior-junior dynamics.
A cold comparison: Akshan demon hunters versus Shegwin.
I'm a demon hunter myself, after all.
I know better than anyone that demon hunters are a class with a few screws loose outside of demon-slaying.
Comparing those demon hunters to Shegwin?
A transcendent.
The pinnacle of the sword.
The Sword Saint.
Sorry, Shegwin.
I only beat him because he fell to demonhood, triggering Predator-Prey Relationship.
If he hadn't corrupted…
Even without his rejuvenation, he wouldn't have been easy.
Imagine that Shegwin repeating grueling training, growing stronger.
Not to mention hunting hell's demons—his combat sense wouldn't rust.
And sure enough, my guess was spot on.
Guiche spoke up.
—"Shegwin's sword aura has grown even sharper."
Swoosh!
Every swing of Atlas sent swarms of mechanical puppets flying like fallen leaves.
Dozens shredded per strike, mechanical limbs scattering.
—"Of course, it pales next to us."
Still cocky as ever, huh, Doppelganger No. 3 Guiche?
I'm too busy being impressed.
Quickdraw swordsmanship.
Shegwin's style, emphasizing speed above all.
Far more perfected than my unfinished version.
Crunch!
Shegwin's muscles surged with power.
No physical prowess, no such speed.
Since awakening as a player, I'd never skipped stamina training.
Yet…
I can't match Shegwin.
Simple as the years we've lived.
And I'd dumped most level-up points into Magic.
Maybe if I maxed Tenacity to hundreds someday—but that's a long way off.
Still.
"Is that thy sword path, Shegwin?"
Guiche's cockiness paled next to his!
I couldn't help raising Guiche before such a Shegwin.
And a message appeared.
You have entered B402-Deep Laboratory.
And with it.
A massive mechanical puppet entered my view.
If the prototypes from the previous floor were human-sized.
This one was building-sized.
Obviously a named monster.
But I didn't check its info.
"Did I not say? Numbers and letters hold no meaning."
Grandfell might have a cool reason.
I just didn't have the luxury.
Wasting this talent would be a shame.
Grandfell's talents were not limited to one.
Before me was perfected quickdraw swordsmanship, not unfinished.
And the situation had changed.
Not as enemies, but allies cooperating.
Meaning I could observe Shegwin's quickdraw from new angles.
In short.
I might learn it just by watching!
Could this fight complete my quickdraw swordsmanship?
Unlock my second achievement after circles?
As I savored premature victory.
A firm declaration.
"A path trod in imitation holds no meaning."
I knew it…!
Grandfell's pride wouldn't tolerate copying another's sword path.
Guiche piled on.
—"Well said, my liege!"
Alone, I'd rationalize and bend his stubbornness somehow.
But with Guiche chiming in, I gave up clean.
Fine, that's my lot in life.
I'll just watch even harder.
To forge my own damn sword path!
Think positive.
Actually, this thorny path might be right.
Shegwin's path isn't for just anyone.
I might need to pour everything into physical stats.
Why did Shegwin fall?
His brilliant talent fixated on quickdraw alone, yet he never reached the end.
His aged body couldn't keep up.
…And I'm worse off than old Shegwin.
In case Grandfell barked.
I sneakily checked my status.
Numbers aren't everything, but…
Strength and Agility are sorely lacking.
Grandfell aside, I had no confidence chasing Shegwin.
Completing unfinished quickdraw my way might be best.
So.
"Steel thyself, Guiche."
Brace for disappointment.
My full arsenal is scrappier than you think.
—"I've awaited this moment, my liege!"
Screech—the colossal prototype activated with a metallic groan.
Mechanical, but beast-like on four legs.
Front legs comically short, almost toy-cute at a glance…
But its combat power? Not cute at all.
Humanoids were level 1,000.
This named mob is incomparably huge.
My mediocre swordplay without Grandfell, facing that?
Without even Predator-Prey Relationship?
That's suicidal.
But as you see, I'm not alone.
Shegwin stood beside me, Atlas raised.
Shegwin glanced at me.
……What's with the subtle smirk?
Guiche translated.
—"A contest: who fells it first!"
What?
You too with the "benign rivalry," Shegwin?
One monster, and we're competing…?
I glanced at Shegwin—then flinched.
Oh no.
Forgot.
Raymon Sean's quest.
Quest: Choose Your Path
📍 Intruder.
To proceed, choose one of two paths.
─B401-Deep Laboratory (Selected)
─B402-Deep Laboratory (Selected)
Deep Laboratory. Two of them, right?
Two named mobs makes sense.
And ominous hunches never fail.
Screech—another identical colossal prototype appeared.
I thought we'd split them amicably.
But a contest to see who drops theirs first?
In this tense spot, would Grandfell play along…?
"If that is thy wish, so be it."
Why accept this request?
"I shall honor the pride that vows full repayment of thy debt."
Damn this sublime pride causing trouble again.
Tch, such a rare chance.
Shegwin was cheat-level strong among allies.
Considering endless hell grinding—training and hunts—he'd grow infinitely.
D Reliable? Try worrying he'd steal my EXP later.
But.
Can't summon anytime.
Akshan's Legacy. True to name, it inherits Akshan's pride.
Using it selfishly violates Grandfell's purity and demon hunter code.
Only with just cause, no abuse.
Shegwin too.
Only because opponent is Raymon Sean.
Some jaded salaryman might ask: can't exploit newbies freely?
Grandfell's venomous retort would be deserved.
His pride wouldn't allow it.
Wasting this rare shot on a risky bet.
Guiche, oblivious to my frustration:
—"Admirable resolve, unbowed by defeat! Well done, Sword Saint!"
……I'd rather die than deal with this.
The moment approval dropped.
Shegwin was already moving.
Swoosh—whirling blue sword aura.
Fast. Flashy.
That was the Sword Saint, one with Atlas.
Shegwin's true worth.
A blade representing an era on the Arcana continent.
Of course, no time to gawk.
I kicked off the ground.
Can't outpace Shegwin.
But more desperate, more ruthless? Bet on it.
Shegwin walked his path fixated on quickdraw alone.
I'd thrashed through hardship and trials just to stay afloat.
No abandoning that resolve now.
Rooooar—Guiche darkened to black.
Silver sword aura coiled around it.
My mana rippled.
—"……This is?"
Getting it now, Guiche?
Yes, this is how your master survives.
Crude: jack-of-all-trades.
Fancy: magic swordsmanship.
Grand: eccentricity incarnate.
Swipe—magic blends into every swing.
Optimal spells for slashing, blocking.
Wielding advanced swordplay and magic simultaneously.
Jack of all trades.
Grandfell's innate genius for both, unashamed.
A combat style only he could pull off.
Suddenly, Guiche's voice.
—"Impossible…"
Shocked at my true power without Predator-Prey?
No.
A pulse throbbed from my right hand.
—"I finally understand, my liege."
Understand what all sudden?
……My true nature?
Disappointing? Tough, deal with it—this is me.
—"Why you never named me alone…!!"
……Wait, what?
Guiche, what's with the name talk out of nowhere?!
How would you know a reason even I don't?
Thump—regardless, Guiche's pulse swelled.
Loud enough for even sword-swinging Shegwin to notice.
"!"
—"A misconception.
To walk thy sword path with thee, one name wasn't enough.
Foolishly, I envied High El and Diend."
……Sulking over no name?
Speak up! I'd have given one rivaling theirs.
Ridiculous, in every sense.
—"But today, I realize."
Realize what?
Uneasy.
Truly.
Guiche's solemn voice followed.
—"I am no being bound to a single name!"
……What?
—"Yes, my liege.
—As thou desirest.
—In this moment, I shall become the 'Sword that Cleaves Illusions'!"
Cl, cleaving illusions… what?
Feels like Grandfell's smirking smugly.
What's the damn name?!
A blinking message answered.
◈ Restriction: Unknown
◈ Effect: Unknown
◈ Description: An ego sword with a noble sense of self.
……
……Illusion Breaker, the Sword that Cleaves Illusions?!
More than that, you fiery—er, illusory bastard.
Where the hell did you get these cheat effects?!