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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 161
Ian frowned. Even though he was already feeling immense psychological pressure, the person in front of him spoke trembling words as if it were nothing.
‘Why?’
The question arose naturally. If he had shown an impressive display, then it would make sense for them to remember him. But that wasn’t the case. He had barely managed to block a few strikes. If Hero Gailgron hadn’t appeared, he would have died without a doubt.
He lowered his stance. A violet flash from the old sword barely grazed over his head.
‘This is insane.’
Now, he understood why the Holy Knight struggled. Facing it directly, the flashes of light never left his vision. The seamless flow of attacks pressed down on him like a steady stream of water. A glancing slash silently split the ground.
With this level of power, it made sense that the Holy Knight couldn’t hold out even with a shield. Rather, if anything, he should be praised for lasting as long as he did.
— Ian Berger.
“Hah, seriously. What’s with the intimidation?”
— My master… is waiting for you.
He had earned Riorg Ribella’s resentment. Who would have known? The Dark Mage he had run into by chance was actually a disciple of the Necromancer of the Ten Thousand Demons War.
But it was surprising. Even those who carried out human sacrifices as if it were routine had some sense of loyalty between master and disciple.
“So, what? You plan to capture me alive?”
— As long as you’re still breathing, missing limbs won’t matter.
In an instant, Galan’s sword disappeared from sight.
Slash—
On instinct, he twisted his body. He had almost been impaled straight through the thigh. His leather pants tore, and blood seeped out. The wound wasn’t deep, but the fact that he had lost track of the sword’s acceleration was more shocking.
“You’re fast…!”
Yet, instead of being horrified, Ian smirked. No matter how skilled someone was, they couldn’t escape the effects of his Insight.
No matter how fast they were, every movement required a preparatory stance.
— ……
To thrust a sword, one had to pull back their arm and angle the blade. To swing a sword, the motion had to be larger. Even if there was a difference in skill, as long as he could predict the attacks, he could fight back.
If an attack was impossible to handle, then he just had to avoid it. No matter how lethal the strike, if it didn’t land, it was meaningless.
If he could dodge once, he could dodge twice, thrice.
Swish!
He didn’t back away. His opponent would just close the distance anyway. He didn’t bother conserving stamina either.
A prolonged fight would only put him at a disadvantage. He didn’t hold back on his mana—he knew that unless his attacks packed significant power, they wouldn’t deal proper damage.
His opponent was a skeleton. It had no flesh, no physical limitations.
So he moved forward. He had to give it his all. If not, this place would become his grave.
‘Wait, didn’t they say they wanted me alive?’
Becoming an experimental subject for a necromancer was out of the question. Even in death, he’d be enslaved.
The Galan before him had once been a renowned knight.
He didn’t know which era he belonged to, but if he had fought against a Hero, even briefly, then he must have stood among legends.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Galan stood his ground, receiving Ian’s torrential offensive.
He deflected each strike aimed at his joints, attempting to trap Ian’s sword in a bind, but Ian had already seen through it all.
“You’re too predictable!”
[Crimson Claw Style: Revolving Heaven]
He nullified the attack using a similar principle of swordplay.
He didn’t just keep clashing. He knew his strength wasn’t enough to win a direct contest.
Instead, he immediately backed off and lowered his stance.
[Bane of Evil: Fifth Form – Execution]
There was a time when using it once would drain his mana completely, leaving him exhausted. But that was no longer the case.
Claaang!
Most importantly, he was currently under the Monarch’s Blessing.
His physical abilities had surged exponentially. His overflowing divine power rapidly replenished his depleted mana and stamina.
His spirit radiated brilliantly in this ominous place, serving as an unshakable pillar of will.
On top of that, with the effects of Wigner Delta’s elixir, he could momentarily exhibit movements equivalent to Level 6.
Swish—
— ……!
Galan, who had never stepped beyond a single step's distance, retreated. It was because a sword wreathed in flames aimed for his cervical vertebra. No matter how much his body had been revived through necromancy, it wasn’t immune to damage.
Clang!
The holy sword grazed Galan’s ulna. However, as if the dark mana was protecting his bones like armor, a strong repelling force sparked upon impact. His crimson eyes flickered violently for a brief moment, but that was all. His movements remained swift, and each strike was nothing short of lethal. He had said he wouldn’t kill, and perhaps it was true—he only aimed for the limbs.
—You’re like a pesky insect.
It could hardly be considered a compliment. But that didn’t mean he had perfectly avoided every attack. His clothes were already in tatters. Thanks to the dense divine power enveloping his body, shallow wounds healed in an instant. As long as he avoided fatal injuries, he would be fine. However, he couldn’t afford to keep dragging this battle into a battle of attrition. A certain amount of risk had to be taken.
Suddenly, Galan turned his head. A knight who had been observing the fight had now entered the fray, wielding a battle axe. But he was no match.
Slice!
In less than a breath’s time, Galan’s sword severed the knight’s arm. In the same motion, he twisted his body, deflecting Ian’s incoming sword, then kicked off the ground and struck the knight with the top of his foot.
Boom!
It was an unbelievable sight, even when witnessed with one's own eyes. A knight clad in heavy armor was sent flying like a cannonball after being struck by a skeletal figure that seemed to lack any mass.
Crash!
The sound suggested that a stone pillar had collapsed, but Ian couldn’t afford to confirm. Galan’s sword trembled violently in his grasp.
Vrrrrm!
The blade, infused with immense magical power, lunged forward before a breath could be completed. It was fast. The moment Ian deflected one strike, another attack would pierce through an open blind spot. Some of the swings even seemed aimed at restricting his movement rather than striking him directly.
Slash!
The slashes didn’t fade immediately, lingering for several seconds as if forming walls. A suffocating sensation crept in. Just a fleeting moment, but it felt as though he had become the hunted. A blade sliced into his right shoulder. Ian began drawing on his mana to activate a technique, but he didn’t need to.
A massive axe blade tore through the lingering slashes, descending upon Galan’s sword.
Clang!
The knight who had been thrown away had somehow recovered and swung his axe once more. Ian didn’t take it as an act of assistance—it was likely a coincidence. The gaze from within the helmet was filled with pure hostility toward Galan. A coincidence, but an opportunity nonetheless.
However, there wasn’t enough time to swing his sword or draw the dagger at his waist. Ian made his decision in that brief moment. It was reckless, but it was still a method.
He stepped forward, closing the distance, and reached out. Mana gathered in his palm, compressing. The moment it was focused into a single point, the mana transformed into flames, exuding scorching heat. He compressed it further, preventing the heat from escaping. The fire roared fiercely within his palm, and as he reached Galan, it erupted as if a floodgate had been opened.
[Flame Realm, Accumulated Crimson Cannon]
Flames were unleashed.
Kwoooosh!
Cold sweat trickled down Ian’s back. The technique had minimal preparation and an extremely fast activation time, but if he lost control, the compressed fire could consume him as well. However, by forgoing the maximization of power and merely directing the flames forward, he managed to pull it off. This was the result. No matter how sturdy Galan’s skeletal body was, he couldn’t emerge unscathed after being engulfed in such intense heat.
But this was no time to be relieved.
Whoosh!
—This bastard…?
The knight’s axe came flying. The moment Galan disappeared from sight, an immediate attack followed. How utterly detestable. A sudden betrayal, but not entirely unexpected. From the beginning, the knight had been too mentally compromised for proper communication. Ian was grateful he had even followed his lead for a brief moment. He bent backward to evade the attack.
Slash!
A heavy yet sharp strike. However, Ian saw the mana infused into the axe expand, covering a wide area.
“Hah.”
Clang!
Fighting against those who wielded mana required anticipating even these aspects. If one carelessly dodged like an acrobat after reading an opening, they could meet a futile end. The knight, as if his hostility toward Galan had been a lie, now swung his axe at Ian with full intent to kill.
“I was hoping to use you a little longer.”
If this was how he would act, then things would have to change. Ian gripped his holy sword. As he prepared to draw on his mana, he caught sight of Galan rising from where he had been slammed against the temple wall. The black fabric that had once adorned him had completely disintegrated, and his body was now engulfed in flames. The Bane of Evil’s fire clung to his bones, steadily eroding his dark mana.
—His durability is truly ridiculous.
Galan’s crimson eyes burned like fire as he steadied his stance. Ian shifted positions, maneuvering naturally so that the knight ended up between him and Galan. Unaware of anything, the knight continued to swing his axe. Behind him, Galan emerged.
—Move aside.
Slash!
The knight’s waist was severed. His upper body fell, spilling entrails and blood. Galan casually kicked his lower half, sending it flying like garbage.
—That was quite the intense flame. You have promise. You’ve refined your technique significantly since back then.
“It would’ve been better if you had melted away entirely.”
—That’s beyond your current abilities. Do you wish to destroy me? Then bring your father before me.
Ian let out a scoff.
“You’re getting more articulate by the moment.”
—I simply had no reason to speak for a long time. There was no need. A tool only needs to fulfill its role. As I said, I won’t kill you. But I will sever your limbs and present you to my master.
As Galan adjusted his grip on his sword, the mana that had been suppressed surged forth.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
Join our Discord for release updates!
https://discord.com/invite/dbdMDhzWa2
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