They were strong.
No matter how much Richard had become a veteran, that fact was unavoidable.
Invisible acceleration accompanied by a punch with heat and shockwaves. Both punches were impeccably powerful.
Even if Richard hadn’t fought many priests until now, he could guess that their strength ranked among the highest.
However, Richard emerged victorious.
The reason was simple.
Because in front of them stood a veteran, and since they were martial arts masters…
They couldn’t suppress the will to revere the veteran.
Thus, the subsequent events were predictable.
Roim and Demis charged at Richard with all their might to revere him, and Richard fought back.
And Richard used his newly acquired skills, their impatience, and his own advantages without reservation.
He fought desperately and barely won.
To the point where it could hardly be called a fight at the end.
It was merely a struggle for survival.
Therefore, it took Richard quite a while to realize where he was.
Broken trees were scattered here and there. A tree that had been kicked off a fist strike leaned over, and Richard, leaning against the tree, briefly lost consciousness before waking up.
The martial arts master Roim, who had been pierced through the chest by a half-broken tree and died, lay there with his head separated from his body, confirming his death.
Demis met a similar fate. He couldn’t overpower Richard, who gradually increased the speed of his attacks while deflecting all of them, and ultimately fell to Richard’s relentless assault at an exhausting speed.
Though this left Richard’s mana tattoo drained of all its mana, he smiled faintly upon realizing he had defeated two martial arts masters.
—Boom!
A sudden deafening roar. Not too far away. With both hands and his entire body covered in the blood of martial arts masters, Richard walked toward the sound.
Crossing the forest, he arrived at a place that felt like a battlefield had been directly transplanted.
Kwaang!
With the boom, broken trees flew about, and at the center, a group of people intertwined with martial arts masters came into view.
Next, what caught his eye were the scattered broken and severed trees and fallen martial arts masters all around.
A martial arts master who had lost one eye and an entire arm but still wielded a greatsword with a deep smile.
Though one ankle was crushed and unable to move, she forced herself to use it as a foothold while swinging her weapon.
The scene of cutting and grinding them down slowly to crush them was vivid with clear scars. Upon seeing these scars, Richard’s expression went blank before he noticed the humans opposing them.
They were completely unscathed.
They only seemed to have some vague sense of fatigue.
“Aslan, look out!”
As the woman shouted and swung her spear to block an attack, the man called Aslan swung his sword.
Strangely elongated trajectories connected, and the martial arts master twisted his body at the last moment to reduce the area being cut.
A martial arts master laughing wildly amidst flying flesh. Then, flipping his body and shifting his entire balance, he swung his greatsword, carving into the ground and sending countless rocks flying toward them.
The woman deflected the incoming rocks with her spear, moving it in strange arcs. Toward these individuals came subtle cuts using the scattered dust as a smokescreen.
A sword strike seeping in from the upper-left corner, eroding the entire left side. This strike aimed towards the woman, and Aslan stepped forward.
Clang!
“Guh…!”
A groan followed by a sword being deflected. The long slash aimed at Aslan caused him to reverse his step and barely block the attack.
Zing, the metallic sound rang out as Aslan was sent flying. Only then did Richard grasp the situation.
The goal was generally to win without dying or getting injured if possible.
Unlike Richard, who risked his life to kill two martial arts masters and prevent his teacher’s remains from being stolen, barely surviving in the process.
These people seemed to be thinking ahead.
Even though the goal of killing the evil deity might seem unrealistic, they appeared to take it seriously.
For that grand objective, it seemed they were struggling not to get hurt now.
As evidence, Richard could see that all members of Aslan’s group had only minor injuries.
And because of that, it seemed they couldn’t easily turn the situation around.
As if someone appearing would immediately change the situation.
As if they needed someone.
Richard stared at them for a moment before stepping forward as if entranced.
“Haha! Ha!”
The executioner laughed while swinging his sword. Attacks so fast that they barely left afterimages were delivered with full force. The long greatsword accelerated near his body, gradually increasing its speed.
She was incredibly skilled in chaotic battles.
Indeed, the situation was similar when her teacher I’taar had fallen.
The radius formed by two swords. Every attempt to penetrate that radius led to fatal death or injury.
Watching Aslan barely deflect a downward strike, Richard realized he alone could reverse the current situation.
So Richard moved forward. As he began to press forward slowly, the sound of his limping steps and labored breathing from his broken ankle drew everyone’s attention.
“You…!”
The executioner reacted most dramatically.
Because the ragged Richard, with both hands drenched in martial arts masters’ blood, had appeared.
An unmistakable trace visible to anyone. The exhausted figure after a fierce battle. Even the vacant expression.
Upon seeing this, recognizing the wounds, and understanding the hidden truth within this context, the executioner moved.
This judgment didn’t even take a second. It was a perfect instant where no one could intervene, even in the midst of experts’ combat.
A man who had killed two martial arts masters, two top-tier ones at that. There was no time for prayer to the Supreme Divinity or confirmation of his status as a veteran, but the atmosphere was clear.
‘A veteran.’
A veteran of combat, disciple of I’taar. And yet, a man who had become a veteran.
I’taar’s technique approached perfection in defense.
That defense could serve as the key to further securing the executioner’s predetermined defeat.
‘No, it must be used. All the time spent buying time was solely for this moment!’
The executioner quickly judged and hesitated in delivering the sword tip she had aimed at Aslan.
Whoosh!
Then she turned her body.
Receiving the recoil through her waist, pressing down on her crushed ankle, she swung her sword.
The sword strike rising from her waist aiming for the neck became invisible even to the executioner by the time it reached the blade tip.
Today’s second all-out decapitation.
A genuine decisive blow used against Aslan, not a technical feint.
The obvious target of this strike was the seemingly unresponsive Richard lowering his arms.
A first-class warrior beyond excellence calculates countless possibilities in an instant. The executioner was such a master.
Thus, having triumphed over the collector and becoming a martial arts master despite losing both arms, she remained undefeated.
Nothing changed now either. She would win again. Sketching the trajectory toward victory, she belatedly sensed something amiss.
Richard’s posture was changing.
Even with the eyesight of a martial arts master, this swift execution was invisible. Few among the same priests could block this single strike.
Thus, humans cannot see it. Although Aslan blocks it well, it’s due to his inhuman skill.
Being the greatest combat expert in history, that’s why he could do it.
So what was happening now?
The executioner didn’t know.
All she saw was Richard stepping back as if he knew the unseen blade tip beforehand.
She could cut his neck whether blocked, grabbed, or deflected.
This was her ace prepared for I’taar; she was confident there was no way to counter it.
No matter how excellent “I’taar’s Compliance” was, there was no way to break this ace.
Thus, she was surprised when Richard didn’t simply deflect the attack.
As the narrowly missed sword strike passed Richard, his hand moved swiftly.
The moment the crimson tattoo running across his face flickered red, his hand struck the blade with added momentum.
Clanggg!
TRAMISOV’s Beast is a single-edged sword. Specifically, a single-edged saw-toothed sword.
Thus, the back of the blade wasn’t sharpened. Naturally, the punch broke, but the result achieved by breaking just a punch was beyond imagination.
In that bold act of striking the back of the blade resided “I’taar’s Compliance.”
But it wasn’t truly I’taar’s Compliance.
Because I’taar wouldn’t use it this way.
Compliance usable only by someone blessed with physical prowess unlike I’taar.
Unlike I’taar, who saw the limits of the technique when used only as a counter, this was Richard’s compliance born from innate martial talent and physicality.
The executioner was shocked. Her stance was greatly shaken by just the force of that strike against her blade.
‘Surpassed the teacher…?’
Compliance is the art of going with the flow of the direction of force, resisting nothing, and using the opponent’s power to defend oneself.
However, the technique Richard used now wasn’t defense.
It was offensive compliance.
Compliance designed to disrupt the opponent’s balance and dominate offense and defense.
It was compliance forcing submission onto the opponent.
“What…!”
The executioner staggered in astonishment. That brief stagger wasn’t missed by the veterans.
Lumel deflected the bouncing sword tip with his spear and pushed it aside. The attempt to incorporate the stagger into another swing failed.
Behind him, Phey burst forth from the shadow of a tree. Phey, spinning fiercely, leaped and snatched the storm sword embedded in the ground, swinging it immediately.
Despite the sword being taller than her height, the sword’s energy flowed accurately and cleanly, slicing through the ankle.
“Guuh…!”
The executioner collapsed. As she tried to correct her grip on her sword while staggering, Ereta intervened. Swinging an axe she had spun around her body while stepping forward with her right foot, the axe attached to her side launched precisely, severing the executioner’s wrist.
Both the sword and the ankle were lost.
However, the poison needles and venom reservoirs remained. But as she opened her mouth, a speeding arrow pierced her cheek.
The short arrow accurately pierced both the venom reservoir and the poison needles. The person who shot it winked while shirtless, causing the executioner’s face to contort.
“Hryaa!”
She was sent flying after receiving a kick from a rushing girl.
Thud, thud, kooong!
Her body bounced, smashing several trees. Despite breaking large trees, her sturdy build showed no signs of damage. Just as she inhaled to perform her final technique and prepared to land,
“I’ve seen it before. Not this time.”
As if knowing exactly what she was about to do, Aslan appeared where she was preparing to land.
Holding TRAMISOV’s Beast, previously wielded by the executioner.
“Take the sword with you.”
As she brought her wrist to her heart to perform her final technique,
‘Shadow Reversal.’
The shadow swirling beneath Aslan disappeared.
Tzazazazak!
Ten simultaneous strikes pierced her body.
Shoulders split apart. Legs shattered and crushed. Waist severed and collapsed.
With precise cuts following the muscles, the executioner knelt, and Aslan moved once more.
Using his entire body fluidly. Twisting his waist as if performing a sword dance, his entire body moved in unison with the rotation. The movement grew more intense as it approached its peak.
Using his lower body as the handle and his upper body to the sword tip as the whip.
At that moment, the executioner realized this was her own technique.
A technique she had shown only twice before Aslan.
Decapitation.
“Kh, khgguuuuuaaaa!”
Despite her futile determination to collide with Aslan,
Crackkkkk!
Her technique betrayed its owner.
The sound of tough chitin splitting echoed, and her severed head rose before falling in a different direction from her body.
Plop, two sounds of something landing. Aslan absorbed the recoil of the swung greatsword by turning his body.
Cooduk!
His advancing step digging into the dirt stopped just as Aslan spun once more, holding the sword close to his body.
Facing away from the executioner’s head.
Just as the rolling head of the executioner finally stopped and looked up at his back,
Chyak!
The nearby TRAMISOV’s Beast folded.
The folding sound was like the closing slate of a life.
The executioner finally closed her eyes and accepted death upon hearing that sound.
