Clang!
The metal and stone collided. The two finely honed blades, despite being made of different materials, sparked upon impact.
Before the sparks had even settled, the trajectory changed. And they clashed again.
Clang, Clang!
A few flashes. An artistic level of sword energy produced in a single breath. As the red longsword and stone sword bounced off each other, a fist shot through the gap.
Thud!
The punch delivered during the swing of the stone sword was on the verge of reaching the limits of power that a human could generate. Even without any force from the hips behind it, it was strong enough to shake the body.
The man wielding the red longsword, Dimitri, barely managed to identify the stone sword aiming for his head amidst his dazed state.
Clang!
Another defense. He inserted his blade into the trajectory to block. The stone sword, deflected once by his wrist and once more by his waist, surged forward again.
And they clashed again. With every exchange, Dimitri was skillfully pulled along. Bouncing back, being pushed away. He could feel it every time their swords met.
‘It’s a monster.’
The strength of a person named Aslan.
But Dimitri does not falter. Retrieving the futile slash at empty air, he strikes downward. Blocking this downward strike with an upward one, Aslan extended his hand.
Tung!
An invisible shockwave emitted from the bare hand. This shockwave pushes Dimitri’s face back, unsettling his balance. Seeing this, Aslan twisted his waist and kicked out.
Bang!
“Guh…”
His body bent sideways. A spinning kick embedded in the defensive gap struck precisely at his side.
With no chance to either block or cut the leg, Dimitri tumbled across the floor.
“Kh… Khh…”
Dimitri now felt the pain gradually fading as he rose.
It was wrong.
Dimitri realized this fact again.
Every time he fought Aslan, he had this impression, but he always thought it:
This strength is definitely wrong.
‘But what can be done? The fact that the opponent is strong isn’t a reason to give up the fight.’
Rising, Dimitri wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and firmly gripped his longsword before charging forward.
Carefully chosen, the attack aimed for the neck—a short and swift slash, almost a thrust. Aslan blocked it with the hilt of his sword as he withdrew his arm.
With a clang, the blade was caught by the hilt. Just as the blade was about to slice down to sever fingers, Aslan’s other hand grabbed the edge of the stone sword.
The situation reversed. The blade touching the hilt was dragged down and rebounded. What Aslan aimed for was the heaviest blow in swordsmanship—the fatal slash. The reversed sword charged toward Dimitri.
Thud!
It was too late to counter with a return strike. Dimitri raised his arm to block and felt his elbow shatter.
A horizontal slash. It was an opening. Dimitri sent his bouncing sword upwards, and Aslan blocked Dimitri’s thrust with the reversed blade.
An attack like driving down a trident; the blades clashed directly and rebounded.
‘Accurate, powerful, and fast.’
Hitting a thrusting blade with another thrust is difficult. If the one executing the thrust were a master among masters, it would be even harder.
Such near-impossible actions performed effortlessly—truly a bizarre and extraordinary peak of skill. Aslan wielded such techniques.
But that wasn’t all.
Thud!
“Kk…!”
When Dimitri narrowly avoided or blocked those precise, rapid attacks, an even faster martial art followed.
Dimitri felt his head being tilted back just in time to avoid having his jaw shattered and knocked unconscious. Only someone of Dimitri’s caliber could withstand such an attack.
Aslan’s sidekick flew toward the staggering Dimitri. That sidekick struck squarely against Dimitri’s abdomen, and Dimitri barely managed to lessen its impact by lifting himself just before the collision.
Rolling across the ground, Dimitri spat out a mouthful of blood.
‘Still, he’s strong. Like a monster.’
Dimitri shook his blurred vision clear by slapping his head repeatedly. His body, seeking rest, regained vitality. The man stood up.
He held the longsword with both hands, lifted it high, and bent his wrist, adding variation to the standard stance. This time, it faced forward, pointing the blade at Aslan while ignoring the blood flowing from his mouth.
The chances of victory were slim.
‘To think, a guy who’s been fighting priests unarmed since forever wouldn’t be weak. That’s a real monster.’
A bitter smile spread across his face. Dimitri looked at the flail that hadn’t even left Aslan’s waist and laughed helplessly. Aslan wasn’t using his full potential.
Even so, he was this strong.
‘Extreme skills, decisive combat techniques, some mysterious magic-like tricks, and there are probably many more skills he hasn’t shown yet.’
Aslan’s special moves, known as his ultimate techniques in the world. Techniques whose existence Dimitri knew of but had no way to counter. Recalling these techniques alone made Dimitri feel his breathing tighten.
Calmly lowering his sword, Dimitri observed Aslan standing opposite him. At first glance, the posture seemed vulnerable, but it wasn’t.
Dimitri knew this stance well.
The unshakable center of the Perfect Stillness Stance, mastered by veterans of countless battles.
With perfect stability, Aslan slightly stepped forward, ready for immediate engagement.
Dimitri had fought Aslan seven times, and each time, he thought:
This strength is a different kind from that of the priests.
The strength of priests was akin to natural disasters.
Fiery flames, surging lava, and intense life forces—unique and powerful abilities that were simply overwhelming, much like natural calamities.
However, Aslan’s strength wasn’t simple—it was complex.
It was like walking through a bottomless swamp.
Once you fell into it, there was no way out.
No matter how hard you struggled, there was no escape.
In his chest, the mutated blood worm was forcing its way towards his heart.
Time was running out.
Boom, Boom, Booming!
At the entrance of the tunnel, the number of blood worm hosts striking the shielding material increased, and the corpse of the bandit leader Torek lying on the ground grew cold. Amidst the chilling blood flow, Dimitri laughed.
On the other hand, Aslan’s expression remained cold. There was hardly any emotion in his teal eyes.
All that could be sensed was cold-blooded intent to kill, a mechanical gaze determined to eliminate threats.
While looking at Dimitri with such eyes, Aslan sighed and regretted.
There was no other way. Once the blood worm consumed the heart, resurrection was impossible unless one became a priest.
After all, the heart was the source of life.
Aslan clenched his weapon and blinked. In that brief blink, which lasted only a moment, Dimitri lunged.
Moving his entire body, he flipped the sword that was initially pointing downward and swung it in a large arc with a rotating motion of his arm.
A sweeping slash accelerating from behind, rising diagonally from below. Aslan stretched out his blade upon seeing this diagonal upward cut.
Clang!
The clashing blades screamed. Sparks flew as the metal and stone collided. It was heavy, but not beyond endurance. Aslan moved his blade as if pushing it aside and twisted his wrist.
He deflected it. The pinnacle of martial arts bloomed within swordsmanship. The deflected slash rebounded horizontally. Dimitri smiled as he flipped his wrist and absorbed the recoil with his waist, despite his creaking spine, and swung horizontally with a laugh.
Clang, Clang!
Aslan caught the incoming slash with a sidelong glance and a tilted blade, illuminating the dim tunnel. The red blade rebounding downward significantly disrupted Dimitri’s stance.
But he didn’t stop. Dimitri knew this might be the last time he’d ever fight Aslan.
This was his final battle. He didn’t want to leave regrets in his last fight.
Despite his creaking spine screaming in protest and his wrists breaking from excessive strain, Dimitri kept moving.
Aslan’s descending stone sword, flowing smoothly. Dimitri rotated using the momentum Aslan created.
Rotating with Aslan’s deflecting force, even as his ankle snapped and his waist screamed in agony, he continued to spin.
Burning his life away.
Clang!
“You…!”
Spinning into a massive diagonal slash, he repelled Aslan’s descending sword. Amidst the flying sparks, Dimitri smiled. Blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, staining his lips red, and though one eye was half-eaten by the blood worm, he still smiled.
His sanity was slipping away. But he had to keep moving. Burning through the remainder of his life, Dimitri’s sword technique reached its zenith.
Aslan’s expression hardened, and amidst Dimitri’s laughter, their swords clashed again.
Clang!
Receiving the downward strike and deflecting it, blocking the thrust with the blade and deflecting it, intercepting the horizontal slash and bending it, twisting the locked blades and countering the thrust with the hilt.
Blood streamed from Dimitri’s eyes. His wrist was broken and bent backward, and his heart was almost entirely consumed, ceasing to beat, yet Dimitri finally reached Aslan.
Dimitri’s swordsmanship was purely original, built solely from his own experiences in battle. Facing Aslan, this colossal wall, Dimitri had further refined his own sword skills.
The existing sword paths had already been blocked by Aslan. So, Dimitri abandoned them and gripped the crimson sword in reverse.
The reversed red blade ascended along the stone sword.
Thud!
Clang, Swish!
The red blade surged upward like ascending flames. The extending stone sword. As the stone sword pierced Dimitri’s chest, the crimson longsword grazed Aslan’s right eye.
As the blood flowed and dripped onto the ground, Dimitri smiled, spitting blood from his mouth.
His trembling hand, gripping the sword in reverse, also trembled.
A creature without a heart cannot move. Normally, that’s true. But Dimitri had already given up being human and was becoming a host to the blood worm.
For a very brief moment, one can move even without a heart. Shaking hands lifted the sword, gripping it in reverse, and struck downward.
What he aimed for was mutual destruction.
With his final resolve and strength, Dimitri attempted to strike downward.
At that moment, if the shadow swirling beneath Aslan had disappeared…
“Shadow Reversal.”
A quiet voice. A sound as if defying the laws of the world. Before Dimitri could interpret its meaning, Aslan moved.
Swish!
The ribcage was split open. The sword that had pierced the heart simultaneously slashed two paths. The blade withdrawing to the side tore apart the lungs and ribs, and the ascending path fractured the collarbone, causing blood to gush out.
“Heart Piercing.”
Crack!
Aslan’s leg, glowing pale blue, plunged into the thigh. A low kick. Agonizing pain surged through the thigh. Bones broke, flesh crushed. The body crumpled.
Falling down, Dimitri reflexively raised his sword. Aslan’s blade was descending.
“Knight Slayer.”
That blade gleamed black.
Swish!
The diagonal downward strike passed through the crimson sword, severing the shoulder. Consequently, the arm went limp. Feeling the crimson sword slipping from his grasp, Dimitri raised his head.
There stood Aslan.
Aslan with the pale-stained leg.
Dimitri smiled. Taking his final breath, he opened his mouth.
“Brilliant.”
Then he closed his eyes.
A familiar thunderous sound echoed.
“Thunder Summoning.”
Rumble!
In the next instant, Aslan’s foot connected with Dimitri’s face. His body bent sharply and flew through the air, rolling roughly on the ground until it came to a stop embedded in the debris blocking the tunnel.
Boom!
Amid the rising dust, Aslan stood with one eye closed and his leg extended.
As the leg slowly descended, the dust settled.
Beyond the settling dust were the hosts, crawling out between the rubble, staggering.
“Shit!”
Until now, Angie had been watching the duel transfixed. Now, at the end of the tunnel, the blood worm hosts charged toward Aslan.
Aslan watched the rushing blood worms and picked up Dimitri’s sword.
Holding one sword in each hand, he relaxed his breathing. His expression was calm.
“Aslan! They’re…!”
Whatever she shouted, Aslan paid no attention.
The number of approaching blood worm hosts was not small. Easily twenty of them rushed through the narrow, dark tunnel to devour Aslan.
Aslan looked beyond the tunnel.
Beyond the sunlight cast by the high-hanging sun.
Quietly, he spoke to himself.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t miss such an opportunity.”
The blood worms had mostly died or transferred to new hosts.
A motherless blood worm forcibly relocates to a new host to create a new queen.
Therefore, killing the host is sufficient to exterminate a motherless blood worm. It’s one of the tricky ways to deal with them.
Moreover, the bandits had been annihilated long ago, and the elves had been rescued.
The most challenging, Dimitri, was now dead, and the hosts were all confined within the narrow confines of the tunnel.
A space narrow enough for someone with sufficient leaping ability, elastic physique, agility, and sword qi to massacre them all.
“Right, Phey?”
At that moment, something flashed as the sunlight parted at the tunnel’s end densely packed with hosts.
It was two blades.
Punch, Slash!
The two blades spun. They swept necks and pierced hearts, then moved on.
The plain gray dress fluttered, and the barefoot girl kicked off the wall, spinning her body. The crescent moon-shaped blade split two hosts diagonally.
They collapsed, clutching their torn hearts.
The scene resembled the sunlight seeping into the tunnel ends reflecting off walls and scattering among the hosts.
Amid this chaos, crimson hair like blood billowed.
Cutting, slashing, piercing, tearing, slicing, splitting, and cutting again.
The catastrophe was caused by the leaps generated by kicking off walls, ceilings, and floors with two swords.
Defying the small frame, dozens of hosts split simultaneously.
Thud, Thud
As the sound of flesh raining down like rain echoed, Aslan saw the girl standing silently amidst the silence.
She appeared around fourteen years old, with crimson curly hair tied into two braids, and cyan-colored eyes.
Despite being splattered with blood, her plain gray dress remained clean.
Her feet, standing firmly amid all the carnage, were pristine and bare. The only proof of her existence in the material world was the spreading blood beneath her feet.
An elven knight.
A fighting elf.
A veteran of the sword.
“Phey.”
Upon hearing her name, the elven girl smiled brightly.
“Hi!”
Cheerful greetings. Aslan faintly curled the corners of his mouth into a smile, and the girl greeted him with a bright grin, her cyan eyes gently closing.
“It’s been a while!”
The girl approached. Cutting through the blood, she approached Aslan. To Aslan, it was a surprisingly familiar sight.
The girl stopped in front of Aslan. Revealing her cyan eyes with a gentle smile, they clearly expressed goodwill.
“Phey wanted to see Aslan, but did Aslan want to see Phey?”
Smiling coyly, the girl held twin short swords dripping with blood in both hands.
