Chapter 17
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Just Die Nicely
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Too late to dodge.
Thanks to Blue Eye, I could observe it in slowed time, but my body was trapped in that slowed clock too.
I'd relaxed my strength, focusing purely on speed as I swung my hand blade.
Claaang!
I smacked the flat of the blade away at the perfect moment.
The missed strike on the staff didn't hit the ground—instead, it was swiftly recovered.
As if he'd planned for a counterattack all along.
What the hell do these bastards eat to get this strong?
It was something I'd half-expected.
The casual chatter as they invaded this deep, dark cave, the monstrous strength to climb a near-vertical fifty-meter shaft using just one arm on a rope—it all spoke to their skill.
But I hadn't assumed they'd be this elite.
I figured they weren't just petty thieves or grave robbers...
Abilities were rare treasures.
Most people went a lifetime without gaining even one.
Yet these guys tossed around talk of pricey abilities like it was nothing, drooling over them.
Even after entering this unfamiliar rocky cave, they traded lame jokes.
That confidence came from real skill, no doubt.
"Never thought there'd be someone already inside."
Bong switched his grip on his sword and rotated his numb wrist, but he still grinned, curling his lip.
Andre looked surprised too, yet he calmly aimed his blade at my left side.
Bong ignored him entirely, blocking my right.
It was a perfectly coordinated move, honed from years of fighting side by side.
I hunched my torso, bracing my straight back with core strength. I bent my knees, ready to lunge at any moment.
Bong smirked.
"Dodging my sword and talking? You're no monster. Who the hell are you?"
"Breaking into someone else's house and asking me who I am? Goddamn pervs always love playing the victim."
"Perv?"
"Anyone gunning for Dokdo is a perv."
Ah, crap—that wasn't what I meant.
I definitely had control of my mouth, but the words came out weird. Or... did they come out right?
Bong glanced down, narrowing his eyes at my lower abdomen.
Even to my untrained eyes, it didn't look careless.
If anything, it seemed like a ploy to throw me off.
His sword tip didn't waver, and Andre was inching behind me, sliding his feet silently.
"You perverted bastard—whose precious goods are you eyeballing?"
They weren't my nuts originally, but they were mine now. Couldn't just flash 'em around.
I backpedaled quickly into the shadows.
Fuck fuck fuck. Up against sword-wielding psychos while buck naked.
Thud.
I ditched the flapping cloak too.
They didn't chase recklessly.
The light-devouring darkness was to blame.
The sanctuary's gloom was so thick, even I'd struggle without Blue Eye.
"Not bad at erasing your presence, for a barbarian."
What the—?
Strip naked and suddenly you're a barbarian?
And I wasn't hiding my presence—I just didn't have one. Heh.
The two backed against each other, one holding a torch, eyes blazing as they strained their senses.
Whoosh. Fwoosh.
They'd whirl the torch at every little bird noise, but I wasn't there.
Being barefoot helped in moments like this.
Footsteps barely made a sound.
"Come out!"
An opening.
I charged the one who'd yelled and whipped his head around. Using momentum, I slammed my instep into his groin.
Remember this: when groin-kicking a perv, the ankle's more fundamental than the top of the foot.
Smack!
"Kiiiiyahehehehe!"
Bong's legs trembled as he dropped to his knees.
He dropped the torch and sword, clutching his junk.
Needed both hands, probably.
Bong had two balls, after all.
But remember this, Bong.
You've become a true perv because of me.
Andre couldn't check on him—he whipped his sword toward where I'd appeared.
"Sneaking up like a coward! And such un-knightly tactics!"
"What're you on about, you perv bastard? You invade our land, go for our throats, and now you're mad about going eunuch? Want me to fix you up too, perv?"
Andre lunged two steps toward my voice and swung.
Swoooosh!
Ferocious killing intent, but no reason to take the hit.
I'd already shifted the opposite way as I finished speaking.
Against a master like Andre, I'd figured he'd anticipate the voice trail from me circling around.
And nailed it.
One more time.
I slipped behind him, then circled counterclockwise.
"Hey Andre, guess what's on my mind right now?"
Andre was right-handed.
Just twisting his waist let him slash perfectly at someone circling counterclockwise from behind.
He'd go aggressive, and his swings would get bigger.
Piiiing.
The sword came flying right on cue, but I'd already looped to his left, taking his back.
End this quick.
A well-trained warrior—you couldn't take him with amateur brawling.
I didn't miss the moment he sensed something off mid-swing and froze.
Left arm around his throat, legs pinning his arms. Weird-ass fisherman pull, but better than getting stabbed by that flailing blade.
"Eeeeek! Gurk!"
He kicked instinctively, but he couldn't overpower me.
I was Luke Seid, after all.
His sharp jaw and stiff beard dug into my forearm, like it was pleading.
I'm a living person!
"Guhk. Gk."
"Andre? Listen close."
Andre paused his struggling.
To hear me out, probably.
"Guh?"
Maybe he thought I'd offer a deal—even choking, his calm only sharpened my alertness.
These guys were dangerous, alright.
"Die."
Crack!
I shoved aside Andre's limp body and grabbed his sword.
Lightweight.
Shorter and narrower than a knight's blade.
Handy for scouting tight caves, sure.
I...
Used to be a rescue worker diving into fires for strangers.
Risking my neck to protect others' property.
But now? I crippled without mercy. Snapped a neck clean.
Snicker.
My lip curled in a way that even creeped me out.
No guilt over killing. Not a speck.
No pounding heart or boiling blood from the shock.
Instead, my head cooled, thoughts sharpening, breaths steadying.
"Hahaha—bald lunatic..."
Couldn't get riled up, not with that bearded bastard smiling at me from the shadows, looking intrigued.
He can see me clearly.
Charles, was it?
Thud.
He tossed something from his side onto the altar.
A person.
Gagged, hands bound behind, staring at me in terror.
So you're the one who sensed Silver Star and led the hunters here.
No special presence. Like a corpse. Like me.
"He was spot on, huh?"
The guy nodded at Charles's question.
Tears welled in his eyes, but not my problem.
Kill them all.
If I survive, that's the right path.
"Nice and spacious."
Shing.
Charles's weapon dwarfed Andre's and Bong's—bigger, longer.
The eagle-eyed greatsword zeroed in on my heart.
"I'm Charles Yarhen of Fiore Kingdom. Tell me the name of the one whose head I'll claim."
No reply. I backstepped.
Into the dark, but Charles stared right at my face and charged.
I sped up, widening the gap, and he glanced around briefly.
Line of sight has limits, huh.
Then I'd vanish completely.
"Playing it like that?"
Charles sneered, whipping a lash from his belt with his bare hand.
The thick cord swept a ten-meter radius.
Piiiit!
I ducked fast, but a few hairs got snagged and snapped.
Then his sword lunged.
The greatsword aimed for my neck height, then corrected trajectory downward.
Where do these monster bastards come from?!
Kaaaaang!
My sword shattered on impact—even though I'd angled it to deflect.
Without Blue Eye reading his path, without being Luke, my skull would've split.
"Not bad..."
Charles rubbed his numb wrist with his whip hand, muttering.
I hurled the broken sword at the opening, but he flicked his wrist smoothly, batting it away.
"That grit, those instincts. Too good to kill. Join me."
He lowered his sword and beckoned, like calling a dog.
"Fuck off, perv."
"Gonna keep running? Stalling won't help you."
"You sure about that?"
"Of course. If I don't go up, reinforcements will—and, hm?"
No plans to run or stall.
I kicked off the floor, charging straight at him.
"Madman!"
Whip!
I wrapped my arm around the incoming lash.
Piiiing.
It tautened like fishing line, thrumming sharply.
"Eeeeek!"
Charles had freakish strength.
But if it was raw power, I wasn't slacking either.
"I'll kill you!"
As his sword thrust, I yanked the whip harder.
Startled by the faster closing distance, Charles's eyes widened.
Even then, he adjusted, nailing my heart.
Now.
Pivoting on my right foot, I spun back—the greatsword stabbed air.
Whirl!
Charles stepped right where I'd been.
I looped the whip around his neck on cue.
Naturally pulling him into a rear bear hug.
"Thick neck you've got, Charles Yarhen-tina."
"Kk. Guhk."
Bigger build than me, but that worked against him here.
I peeled my chest off his back and stepped backward.
His body tilted like it was lying down.
My arm stayed put, so his full weight hung on the whip.
"Guhhe. Guh."
He flung the greatsword, clawing at my arm—but just keeping his neck from snapping took all he had.
Drip drip.
Hot, reeking liquid soaked his pants and hit the floor.
Sphincter gave out—stink was brutal.
I whispered in struggling Charles's ear.
"You who dared invade Hellite's sanctuary—pay for your sins with death."
"Gulp. Gulp."
His face bloated red, veins bulging.
His bulging eyes rolled, hunting me—impossible.
"In the name of Holy Knight Luke Seid, I declare death upon this sanctuary-defiling heretic."
"Gaaaah."
His frantic clawing at the whip, my arm—short-lived. Then his hands flailed wildly.
Nails raked my cheek; big fists hammered my head. I didn't budge.
His hand grabbed my hair.
Trade hair for head.
A few strands yanked? Fine. No letting go of the whip.
I squeezed harder.
Now he was flat on the ground; I was squatting wide-legged, hunched over.
Perfect for max power.
"Die, Charles Americano."
"Guhuh. If... that's... guh."
Whatever, if that's what.
"You... are... a Ho... ly... gk."
Charles Yarhen-whatever went limp.
I caught my breath lightly, glaring at the corpse.
"What the hell, asshole."
Just die nicely when you're gonna die—why cut off mid-sentence like a dick?