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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 162
Kwaaaaaa!
A surge of murderous intent explosively erupted, instantly engulfing the interior of the temple.
Ian clenched his teeth as he silently observed the scene. This was the worst possible situation.
They were nothing but bones, meaning there were no vital points to target, and it was obvious that most attacks wouldn’t have any real effect. Just like now.
No matter how he looked at it, the last moment had been his best chance to inflict real damage.
It wasn’t enough.
A chill ran down his spine. Before he could even steady himself, Galan moved.
Mana and aura poured out, flowing into the old sword gripped in his hands.
Then, the sword began to emit an eerie noise, as if it were screaming.
Wooooooong!
Annoying. He didn’t know what kind of origin that decrepit old sword had, but its durability was beyond belief.
It looked like it could snap at any moment, yet it remained in the same intact state as when he first saw it. That alone was astounding.
Wooooooong!!!
But suddenly, that resonance surged toward him.
He had been keeping his distance, but in the blink of an eye—just the moment it took to close and open his eyes—Galan was already right in front of him.
Damn it.
Fast.
The eerie glow in the hollow sockets of the skull declared merciless intent.
—Dodge.
The rest of the sentence was deliberately left unsaid. If you can. That part was clearly omitted.
Crazy bastard.
If dodging were that easy, there wouldn’t even be a need to curse.
His target was obvious.
The upward-slashing blade’s trajectory was clear, but there was no option to evade.
Pouring mana throughout his entire body, Ian raised his holy sword. The blade, flickering violently in a purple hue, surged forward.
Kaaaaaaaaang!
The impact was so loud it was hard to believe it was just two swords colliding.
“Hngh…!”
He had blocked Galan’s sword several times before, but it had never felt this heavy.
Even deflecting the blow felt precarious. Each time he stepped back, Galan followed in perfect sync, swinging his sword relentlessly.
It felt like his space was being stolen away. As if this entire area belonged to the skeleton.
The immense pressure was suffocating. The only fortunate thing was that their physical abilities weren’t drastically different.
Galan was fast, but not to an overwhelming degree.
Keep up. Adapt. Pour in everything.
Fwoooosh!
Flames scattered, disrupting the enemy’s vision.
Ziiiiiing!
In an instant, Ian accelerated, using Bane of Evil: Execution with its lethal cutting power to create an opening.
Tudududududu!
Arrows of fire shot out from the sun suspended in midair, providing covering fire and buying him precious time.
The entire area was already engulfed in flames. The corpses of the paladins burned in the inferno, while the searing heat filled the space, making it hard to breathe.
Had he ever been this focused in battle before? His head felt like it was about to explode.
He had to predict the opponent’s movements through Insight, react accordingly, and utilize the environment simultaneously.
That alone wouldn’t be an issue. The real danger is that a single mistake could result in permanent injury.
Shhhk!
He can’t even close his eyes properly. Every breath he takes feels like death is tightening its grip around his throat.
There’s no time to count how many times it has happened. The blade, infused with mana, tears through his clothes and grazes his flesh. The wounds that have opened and healed aren’t just one or two.
‘At this rate…’
Galan’s mana lingers, causing continuous damage.
On top of that, its potency is so strong that it pierces through the mana surrounding the blade and directly damages the holy sword.
Realizing this, he focuses on evasion, but situations arise where he has no choice but to block.
Each time that happens, the durability of the holy sword visibly deteriorates.
Clang!
The moment their swords clash and interlock, he is forced backward. For an instant, both of them are left defenseless.
In that brief moment, Galan closes the distance and grabs him roughly by the collar.
“!”
Ian grabs Galan’s arm with his left hand, attempting to channel mana.
But before he can, his feet lift off the temple floor. Then, he is slammed into the ground.
Boom!
“Guhk!”
The impact surges through his back.
And it’s not just the physical force. Galan’s mana seeps in.
It feels like he’s inhaled poison. Just from the contact, it feels as if his skin is necrotizing. Galan lifts Ian off the ground again and hurls him.
Boom!
He doesn’t know where he’s being thrown. He crashes into a staircase piled high with debris like a mountain.
Assessing his location, he sees Galan leaping from below.
Clearing dozens of steps in a single bound, Galan reverses his grip on his old, worn sword and swings it down.
Ian rolls to the side. The staircase he landed on is part of the temple’s broken columns, leaving enough room to move.
Crunch!
He sees Galan’s blade sink deep, but it doesn’t stop there. The sword cuts through the column, extending its reach.
It’s not an impossibility. Those who wield mana can achieve such feats. Let alone a transcendent being beyond the hierarchy.
Crack!
Purple mana bursts from the fissures of the massive, ancient column, splitting it apart.
Soon, Galan’s sword is freed from the column and forces Ian back.
As his foothold disappears and he starts to fall, Galan relentlessly follows, raising his sword high.
Woooooom!!!
Just how much mana does he have? Layer after layer of mana envelops the blade, elongating it.
The vibrating blade shakes the very air. It falls like a guillotine.
Whoooosh!
Ian conjures the Sacred Flame Armor, enveloping his entire body in the flames of Bane of Evil.
At the same time, he supports the underside of the holy sword with his palm, intercepting the descending blade. However, without anything to brace himself against, he plummets.
Boom!
He crashes into the ground, pain surging through him, but there’s no time to dwell on it.
As he rises, he notices severe damage to the holy sword in his grip.
It’s no longer in usable condition. If the same spot is struck even once more, the blade will snap in two.
No matter how much divine power the holy sword holds to maintain its sharpness and durability, it cannot magically reattach a broken blade. Even if such a method existed, it wouldn’t be possible right now.
“…Hoo.”
-…….
Ian lifted his head.
Galan, gripping a massive blade of mana, looked down before turning his gaze upward.
At the top of the seemingly endless stairs, a single sword was embedded in the ground.
It had remained silent for a while now, as if merely observing the battle unfolding below.
Even the periodic bursts of mana, as if seeking attention, had ceased.
Perhaps it had already made a tentative decision on its owner.
Galan glanced down at Ian indifferently before beginning to ascend the stairs, one step at a time. It was an unspoken challenge—if Ian didn’t want to lose the sword, he would have to come up and stop him.
“Son of a bitch.”
It was the leisure only the strong could afford. He must have heard the muttered curse, yet he showed no reaction.
Ian smirked. It might seem like a hopeless situation, but that wasn’t entirely the case.
“If possible….”
He had hoped for reinforcements to arrive in time, but that seemed unlikely.
If he listened carefully, faint sounds of battle could be heard from outside.
The armed White Bones, the Holy Knights, and the Bishops had made it this far.
But whatever they were facing, they hadn’t managed to break into the temple. That meant they were struggling.
‘Even if they do get in.’
By then, it would already be too late. That unknown Rank 2 Warbeast, referred to as the Queen, would fall into the hands of the skeletal knight guarding the necromancer of the Ten Thousand Demons War, Riorg Ribella.
The Sovereign would be disappointed in those gathered here.
Despite bestowing them with blessings, they had accomplished nothing. It wasn’t just an insult to his authority—it was a complete humiliation.
‘…They even summoned a Hero, didn’t they?’
They said they had prepared a countermeasure just in case. As frustration and resentment built inside him, Ian drew upon his mana.
“Well, this works out.”
Even with nothing left to burn, the flames within the temple continued to blaze as if resonating with him.
“If anyone else were nearby, I would’ve had to worry about them getting caught in this.”
They should be able to survive on their own. But seeing his comrades reduced to ashes later would only be more painful.
It was better to be alone.
The five rings encircling the mana core in his lower abdomen resonated, amplifying his power.
Fwoooosh!
The ring ‘Frey,’ which enhanced the strength and efficiency of fire-based techniques, and the relic ‘Ruby of Levate,’ obtained from the Inoria Foundation as a reward for retrieving the Angel’s Key.
Unlike martial arts, which required talent, effort, and luck to reach higher realms, supernatural abilities like Bane of Evil were heavily influenced by the environment and tools.
‘In other words, as long as the conditions are met.’
Its power could be amplified to an absurd degree.
Wooooom!
Flames and heat gathered, swirling as if alive, taking shape.
Dozens of greatswords formed, their burning edges threatening to explode at any moment.
Like a taut bowstring, the greatswords pulled back—then launched toward Galan as he ascended the stairs.
Swiiiish!
The air-splitting sound was lethal.
The greatswords hadn’t been aimed solely at Galan. They were fired based on general direction and positioning.
Thududududu!
Even the floating miniature sun in the air continued to launch arrowheads of flame. The relentless bombardment generated overwhelming firepower.
Galan swung his sword to intercept them, but simply deflecting them like arrows wouldn’t suffice.
With each explosion, fire erupted spectacularly, engulfing the area in heat.
Even for a skeleton, which neither breathed nor was significantly affected by environmental factors, enduring that kind of heat and firepower without a shield would force him to constantly expend mana.
KWA-KWA-KWA-BOOM!!!
It was a sight akin to an artillery unit concentrating the fire of dozens of cannons.
The temple shook as if on the verge of collapse.
Through the chaos, Galan’s slashes cut through the flames and rushed toward Ian, but he remained unfazed.
Distant attacks like that were easily dealt with.
The surrounding flames surged and gathered in front of him, solidifying into a barrier that blocked the strike.
‘I can do this.’
Feeling his mana depleting rapidly, Ian took out a vial and swallowed its contents.
Nerdiel’s Tear, Wigner Delta. He chewed and swallowed them.
He didn’t expect to end the fight with just this. He was keeping low for now, but there was no telling when something might burst out from within.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
With repeated explosions, the staircase finally collapsed.
The sword that had been embedded at the top was also caught in the blast. But Ian had no intention of letting it simply fall.
A precisely controlled explosion sent the sword flying.
Spinning violently in midair, the sword plunged downward—stabbing into the ground right at his feet.
Thunk!
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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