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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 158
──────!
For a brief moment, it was as if sound had been carved out of the world—complete silence.
Not even the faintest ringing reached his ears. Absolute stillness. And with it, every other sense sharpened to an extreme.
Though he had fought alongside Holy Knights before, this was practically the first time he’d faced them as enemies.
Clenching his eyes with focus, Ian unleashed a powerful slash, sensing something hurtling toward him immediately after.
A hand axe—one of the standard-issue weapons of the Ashen Holy Knights.
‘Oh?’
Tilting his head slightly, he felt the heavy gust of wind from the axe brush past his ear.
A diversion. The slash was meant to draw his attention while the axe aimed for a vital spot. Following that, the Holy Knight finally revealed himself, swinging an ornately decorated sword straight down from the front.
Ian knew well the strength behind that blade. But he didn’t dodge. Instead, he thrust out his sacred sword to meet the strike head-on.
[Crimson Claw Style: Sky-Revolving Slash]
He tried to use the opponent’s force against him, redirecting the blade outward. But the Holy Knight countered in an unexpected way.
Clang!
“……!”
Not surprising. After all, swordsmanship often shares common threads when broken down to its core.
If two fighters pursue similar techniques, their moves inevitably become predictable. Clearly, the opponent had realized this.
‘But still…’
The terrifying part about the Crimson Claw’s style wasn’t just its power—it was its relentless continuity. One block never meant the end.
[Ascend to the Heavens]
[Fall from the Heavens]
The sacred sword in Ian’s hand became a streak of light, aiming directly for the Holy Knight’s vital points.
The blade, infused with mana, sliced through the metallic armor with ease, pushing the Holy Knight back under intense pressure.
Panicked, the knight attempted to disengage, stepping back to regain composure.
Ian didn’t let up. He leveled the tip of his sword at the retreating enemy.
[Pierce the Heavens]
Shiiing!
A thrust so direct, it almost seemed too honest—no feints, no deceptive curves.
But its sheer speed and the force behind it made it impossible to ignore. The razor-sharp tip shot straight toward the Holy Knight’s carotid artery.
Claaang!
‘Shallow.’
Just a little deeper, and it would’ve been over. The thought escaped him in a silent sigh of frustration.
Barely managing to evade, the Holy Knight did not attempt an immediate counterattack. Instead, he pressed his left hand against his neck, checking for blood, before letting out a soft chuckle.
“Heh… Not bad.”
A heavy voice echoed as sound returned to the world.
The lost sense of hearing coming back brought Ian a sense of relief.
He silently observed his opponent.
“So you can speak after all.”
“Do I look like an idiot? I simply didn’t see the need to talk.”
“…You don’t seem to have overcome mental corruption.”
Considering how he had slaughtered his own comrades without hesitation and the way he spoke so flippantly, it was clear his mind wasn’t intact.
The Holy Knight lifted his hand from his neck, checking for blood.
Nothing. It had only grazed him.
“Mental corruption? Are you saying I’ve gone insane? Hmm, maybe I have. But you know, maybe this is who I’ve been all along. Her Majesty simply liberated my suppressed true self.”
“…Her Majesty? Who are you talking about?”
Ian frowned and asked back.
There is an Outer God known as the Queen, but as far as he knew, her domain was far to the north from here. It probably wasn’t referring to her.
The paladin looked at him with a puzzled expression.
“You came all the way here without knowing? As for Her Majesty… well, I don’t think I need to waste my breath. Even if you don’t seek to know, you’ll naturally come to understand her soon enough.”
“You follow and believe in someone who isn’t even a sovereign?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Her Majesty is my true light, my savior. Why should I follow a mere sovereign?”
Kiing—
Suddenly, a golden halo appeared behind the paladin’s head, only to shatter and dissolve into the air.
By denying the object of his faith, he could no longer receive the blessing or borrow the power of his lord.
The symbol of strength he had painstakingly built over many years crumbled in an instant. Yet the paladin muttered indifferently, as if he felt no sense of loss.
“Well now, I thought the lord would be endlessly merciful. But with just a few words of denial, I’m cast aside without hesitation. Is that what you were aiming for when you asked?”
“Doesn’t it make you sad?”
“Me? Why would it? I’ve found a new light. I’m rather pleased. Enough with the pointless questions.”
The paladin stepped aside, as if clearing the path. The sword in his hand hung loosely, showing no intent to continue the fight.
His attitude shifted so quickly it was dizzying. Even though Ian had no desire to keep talking, he couldn’t help but ask.
“What do you mean?”
“Go on. You’ve passed.”
“……”
“Her Majesty is looking for a consort. As the gatekeeper who serves her, I’ve judged that you’re worthy to take the trial—unlike the trash lying here.”
Ian stared at the paladin. Though the man wore a helmet, Ian could guess the expression beneath it.
He was probably smirking. Occasionally, he gave his sword a little shake, as if trying to be intimidating. His words and actions didn’t match at all.
Ian let out a hollow laugh at the paladin’s erratic behavior, and the paladin tilted his head slightly.
“Why aren’t you moving? I said you could go. You’d better hurry before I change my mind.”
“Leaving you behind feels a bit…”
“What an amusing trick!”
The Paladin leapt away just before the pillar of fire erupted. The ornate sword in his hand pulsed relentlessly with dense magical energy.
With his divine power fading from within, that void was now being filled by raw mana.
He snatched up a hand axe from the ground and hurled it.
Whirr—!
Ian deflected the spinning axe, gripping his dagger in a reverse hold. His palm tingled from the impact.
But it wasn’t just the axe. The Paladin kicked up fallen swords—and even the severed head of a corpse—sending them flying his way.
As Ian knocked them aside, the mana surging from the Paladin’s sword twisted unnaturally, lunging at him from impossible angles.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Their blades collided, the force bending and twisting along intricate paths.
Ian even tried to break the Paladin’s sword outright, but despite its decorative appearance, the blade was surprisingly sturdy.
A glance was enough to guess its era of origin.
Teramin.
A relic from an age when magical systems were taking shape and sorcery was spreading. Even back then, a weapon of this caliber would’ve been rare. Combined with refined swordsmanship, it was formidable.
His technique showed deep understanding, and for someone in heavy armor, his movements were remarkably agile.
Losing the Lord’s blessing and divine arts hadn’t stripped him of the swordsmanship etched into his body.
Slice!
The Paladin’s strikes were razor-sharp, slipping through openings with deadly precision. It felt like battling an assassin disguised as a knight.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Five rapid exchanges—faster than before, but now manageable.
Though he’d lost his divine power, the Paladin was amplifying his physical abilities with mana. However, with opposing forces coexisting in one body—holy and arcane—their effectiveness was inevitably diminished.
His form struggled to keep up with the escalating pace of the fight.
[Crimson Claw Style: Revolving Heaven]
“Ha! Well, look at that.”
The Paladin let out a hollow laugh as he felt his sword arm being pushed outward.
Retreating was impossible. Dodging—out of the question. In that fleeting instant, all he could do was watch.
Ian’s blade carved a long, clean arc, severing the Paladin’s arm. In the next breath, it sliced through his neck.
With a sharp, satisfying sound, the body sprayed blood like a fountain as both head and arm hit the ground.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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