Chapter 180
Chapter 180
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: The Beast King's True Form
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The blue trails I carved through the air spread like a spider's web, relentlessly pressuring Na Ryeon-un.
Bursts of energy occasionally erupted from Na Ryeon-un's body, shattering those blue trails in droves.
No need to feel bad about it. That's exactly how I designed them to break.
"Goddamn irritating."
Even when I land hits on him, they don't do a damn thing. Na Ryeon-un knows it too, and he's just tanking my attacks head-on while fighting back.
Normally, an opponent who charges in recklessly without dodging or blocking is easy pickings, but this guy's the exception.
"I am Na Ryeon-un, Terror of the Earth and Destroyer of Worlds. There is no hope for you. Surrender and accept your destined fate."
"Yeah, and I'm Yoo Chan-seok, the guy who ground up around 100,000 of your minions."
Right now, the one without hope is you. Endless blue trails pile up around his body.
"Sung Si-hoon, you slacking?!"
At my shout, Sung Si-hoon—who'd been waiting for an opening—used his psychokinesis to propel himself at blinding speed, latching onto Na Ryeon-un.
The moment Na Ryeon-un entered the range of his psychokinesis, Sung Si-hoon gritted his teeth.
"Good, hold him still!"
A sharp, resonant whine pierced the air as Na Ryeon-un's body locked up tight in Sung Si-hoon's psychokinetic grip.
At the same time, the Paradox Flames I'd ignited clung to his body, black tongues of fire licking at his movements and burning them away.
"I'll help too."
With Han Sang-ah's words, dozens of crackling sparks formed above where Na Ryeon-un stood, linking straight to his body. Like some kind of magnet.
Explosive Paradox Flames pinning him down, psychokinesis crushing him in place, blue trails webbing the area like a spider's net, and Han Sang-ah's lightning on top.
If he can still move after all that, we're out of options.
—Good... hold it just like that.
"Hurry it up."
This lunatic's spewing mana from every inch of his body in a frenzy. Sung Si-hoon's nose is bleeding, and Han Sang-ah's face has gone pale.
I keep fueling the Paradox Flames while layering more blue trails around him.
Only when Han Sang-ah and Sung Si-hoon are on the verge of collapse does Jeong Oh-hoon finally radio in.
—Got it... don't talk to me now. Gotta maintain it.
"Good work. Just keep his feet off the ground—no straining yourself."
His back or ass touching the earth doesn't count. Na Ryeon-un's immune to damage as long as both soles of his feet are planted.
Both of Na Ryeon-un's feet are definitely hovering slightly off the ground now. From here on, hits will actually hurt the bastard.
"No more showboating while tanking hits, you old geezer."
Black veins bulge and writhe across his face. He's pissed.
Na Ryeon-un swings a fist at my chest. I wrap my hand around his wrist, deflect it aside, and twist my body.
The storm blasting from his fist rips through the air behind my back.
"You little—"
Na Ryeon-un's expression hardens. That last attack wasn't just parried on instinct. I predicted it ahead of time.
"Here's a little secret. The longer you play with me, the worse it gets for you."
Most who've figured that out are dead.
"Your Majesty, remember how long we've been at this?"
We've fought long enough to gauge this guy's specs. Max output, attack habits, where his eyes flick, how his muscles twitch.
"Sung Si-hoon, fall back and focus on harassment. Han Sang-ah, only strike when I create openings while toying with him."
Both pull back. I keep distance, whipping my spear in erratic arcs. Every blue trail it traces restricts Na Ryeon-un's movements.
Those blue trails vibrate against his massive, analyzed mana output, slowly whittling it down.
"Not confident I can tank a direct hit."
A clean strike from him would leave me half-dead, sidelining me for about thirty minutes. But that won't happen.
This prick's got a short temper. When he gets mad, he loses all reason.
Like an annoying fly buzzing right in his face that he can't swat, I kept grinding his nerves.
Dodging or deflecting attacks, jabbing him lightly with spear and fist.
"Swing that wildly and it won't land~"
As I dodged, I drove an uppercut into Na Ryeon-un's jaw. A sharp crack echoed, snapping his head back slightly.
But getting tagged feels like pure shit.
"You... you fucking bastard!"
Na Ryeon-un finally snaps, eyes rolling back as he unleashes a frenzy of sword swings at me. A barrage of strikes in the blink of an eye.
Crack, crack, crackack, crack.
I evade or deflect every one, poking him back with spear and fist.
Easy to say "poking," but all my counters are slamming into Na Ryeon-un. Meanwhile, Sung Si-hoon—using psychokinesis for ranged harassment—chimes in incredulously.
"His movements just changed."
Thanks to the venom from those snakes he summoned earlier, injected right into me. I burned it all with Paradox Flame, converting it to mana, which slightly reinforced my blood vessels.
No visible difference, but that tiny boost was the turning point in this fight.
With my blood vessels a hair stronger, I can now pull off maneuvers against this guy that I couldn't even attempt before—ones doomed to fail.
It was paper-thin before. Near-misses that had to fail now land perfectly.
If TOEIC 700 was the graduation requirement, I was at 699 before. Now I'm at 700.
"Right now, I could solo-stall you for over a year."
No matter how he thrashes, he won't shake me or land a hit.
"You son of a bitch!"
In an instant, his sword blurs into dozens of afterimages, targeting me at blinding speed.
Amid that ferocious barrage, my spear extends and retracts repeatedly, carving big and small gashes across his body.
The moment he raises his sword for a downward chop, my spear shaft smashes his forehead. His full-power strike fails, countered instead, and his body sways.
"Now."
Time to switch from defense to offense. I shift stance and press the attack.
Dodge one way? A blue trail's already there.
Block? My spear tip slips past, aiming elsewhere.
"Where you gonna run?"
Na Ryeon-un tanks a hit to counter and break away, but I grab his collar, yank him in, and drive a fist into his gut.
A drum-like boom rings out, bending his waist slightly.
"Not yet."
I pour power into the fist buried in his stomach and hurl him skyward. The instant he lifts off, Sung Si-hoon's rock barrage pummels him.
"Han Sang-ah, now!"
At my call, Han Sang-ah charges in, swinging her sword. A massive white cross of lightning flashes, smashing into airborne Na Ryeon-un.
"That’s gotta sting."
It connected clean. Thick black ooze pours from the huge cross-shaped wound on his body.
I leap into the air, grab his head, slam him into the ground, then rain spear strikes like a meteor shower onto the embedded bastard.
His wounded body crumbles into mush under the relentless combo, form collapsing.
"Transform already, asshole. This ain't the end."
Where's he getting these drugs? I halt my assault, leap back to create distance, and shout to the other hunters.
"Hold that mana tight!"
"Kahk..."
No sooner do the words leave my mouth than a thin trickle of blood drips from Han Sang-ah's lips.
The other hunters stiffen, faces ashen. Black ooze from the pulverized Na Ryeon-un's corpse seethes with horrifying mana volumes.
From the bubbling liquid emerge dozens of massive insect wings and mantis-like forelimbs first.
Next, tiger paws. They plant on the ground. A head pushes out.
Compound eyes gleam red, a straw-like proboscis for a mouth. Shaggy fur covers the head, topped by a shattered crown embedded in it.
"What the hell kinda mongrel stew is this...?"
Fly-head with a crown, tiger-like forepaws, dozens of insect wings on its back... and a reptilian torso to top it off.
The grotesque, quadrupedal abomination—hard to even describe—is roughly 30 meters across just eyeballing it. The beast mashup crouches on all fours, glaring at us with its nightmarish compound eyes.
—I warned you already. There is no hope for you.
Yeah, now that's more like the core of Gon Sal-ok. Just riding a tank and swinging a sword while calling himself king? Lacked punch.
Takes me back to the ancient past. Even before returning to Earth from that other world, I fought something like this once.
Of course, comparing that to the freakish stew in front of me now? Not even in the same league.
If that other world's bug was a steroid-pumped tiger, this one's a rabid Pomeranian.
"This'll be a good fight."
Running through our ten-man team's strength in my head, that's my assessment.
Polite way of saying it. "Good fight" really means either side could drop dead.
"Don't get hit. Ever."
I radioed the hunters.
One solid paw swipe from that giant fluffy nightmare, and you're vapor—no corpse left. Even if intact, they'd find you kilometers away.
The beast opens its maw, unleashing a bizarre, chilling howl that spreads like a storm. We brace against the gale, pushed back a few steps weathering it.
"Ah..."
A murmur from beside me. The cry dazes the mind. But that's not its true nature.
Endless whispers buzz in my ears.
Submit. Bow to the great one before you. Dare not resist. An inexplicable surge of awe and reverence wells from deep within.
At the same time, a cozy warmth like soaking in warm milk seeps into my body. The distant hulking horror feels like long-lost parents.
Strength drains from my weapon grip. The hunters' fierce resolve softens on their faces.
"..."
I heft my spear and hurl it with all my might at the monster's red compound eyes. Breaking the sound barrier effortlessly, it streaks like a beam, embedding deep.
—Kraaaaaaargh!
The spear-pierced eye makes it thrash and roar. I extend my hand, and the spear rips free, flying back to me.
"Mind tricks don't work on me."
Like tugging a few heartstrings would make me go all googly-eyed, high as a kite, dancing to that bug's tune.