Ch.129Demon Hunt (3)

In literature, transcendents like Sword Masters and Great Mages are described as those who “touch the realm of gods with a human body.”

Najin realized once again that this expression contained no exaggeration. The scene unfolding before his eyes was truly worthy of being called a divine miracle.

The impact that crossed an entire city.

Vibrations felt across thousands of meters.

It was a flow too great to have been caused by a single human. They weren’t called transcendents for nothing. They were called such because they could perform acts that transcended human common sense.

And before such immense power, most people feel fear. They revere and fear overwhelming force, and regard them as completely different beings. The inquisitors covering their ears beside Najin were like that, as were the black mages who would be terrified in that city.

But there are humans who aren’t like that.

The boy standing here is an example.

Najin removed his hands from his ears. He listened to the echoing sound of the sword. He straightened his reflexively bent knees, raised his head, and with wide-open eyes, took in the scene unfolding before him.

Naturally, the corners of Najin’s mouth turned upward. His wide-open eyes sparkled. And that expression was anything but fearful.

Excitement. Anticipation. Or interest.

The proposal written in the letter Juel had sent. It wasn’t for nothing that Najin had accepted it without a moment’s hesitation. As mentioned before, Najin considered this a “good opportunity.”

An opportunity to warm up before departing for the Outer Continent.

A realm he would eventually have to reach, and a chance to directly observe the battles of the strong ones he would face in the future.

It was an excellent opportunity. Truly.

Without hiding his smile, Najin moved forward. While the inquisitors were overwhelmed by the impact Juel had caused, cowering with their bodies, Najin walked toward the city’s main gate.

“I’ll go ahead.”

Clang! Najin drew his sword.

2.

The streets of Valdernos were dark.

Befitting a city spread across the Outer Continent, thick darkness covered the entire city, with not a single lamp placed to illuminate the darkness.

Dark, damp, and eerie atmosphere.

An ordinary human would surely develop a mental illness after spending just a few days here, but not the black mages. As evident from the fact that they proudly attached the word “black” to the term describing them, they loved darkness.

Dark, damp, eerie, and terrifying?

Even better.

That’s the kind of people black mages are, shouting such things and willingly creating workshops in underground sewers or abandoned cities. There was also the minor advantage that such places were convenient for escaping and hiding, but black mages genuinely liked dark and damp places.

‘I wonder if your brain structure changes when you enter black magic? Like mold that likes damp and dark places.’

-There was a mage who wrote a thesis on that.

‘Really? Who would write about such a useless topic…’

-I did.

‘…Hmm.’

Dilapidated and collapsed buildings. Bricks scattered here and there. The city, where all residents had vanished overnight about 300 years ago, was desolate.

Except for the “Screeeech!” sound of the executioner’s blade in the distance.

Anyway, Najin walked in the silence.

His footsteps echoed unusually loudly through the streets. Najin was deliberately making noise as he walked. Eliminating the sound of footsteps would have been easy, but there was no need.

He didn’t hide his presence so that the black mages hiding throughout the city could notice him. With the executioner literally grinding up the city from the back gate, the black mages in confusion had few options.

One, kill the executioner.

Two, evade the executioner and escape.

If the first option had been possible, they wouldn’t have hidden in this city in the first place. Naturally, only the second option remained, which meant they had to somehow get past Najin. Or climb over the city walls to escape.

Screeeech!

Najin glanced toward the city wall. He saw a black mage who had been climbing the wall with magic get his waist cleanly cut and fall down. He had successfully escaped—from this world.

Anyway, escaping over the walls seemed impossible too. Climbing the walls without cover was essentially advertising “please cut me” to a Sword Master with a range of hundreds of meters.

So only the main gate remained.

The only escape route was where Najin was loitering. With Juel’s presence approaching moment by moment, the black mages finally seemed to make a decision. Presences that hadn’t been felt until now suddenly became noticeable. They had shed their concealment.

Abandoned city. Abandoned buildings.

The mages hidden among abandoned things moved.

Old buildings. Gaps between collapsed bricks. Small gaps in curtained windows. Spaces between roofs and chimneys. Behind pillars. Black lights flickered from literally every corner of the city.

The precursor to spell manifestation.

The simultaneously flickering lights were the same color as darkness, making them difficult to perceive with the naked eye.

Difficult, but not impossible.

As the lights flickered, Najin’s pupils moved rapidly. From left to right, from top to bottom. The lights flickered for just about 3 seconds. But that was enough time for Najin.

‘Seventeen.’

17 lights. 17 mages. 17 spells.

It took 1 second to identify them. Another second to stomp the ground with his raised foot. The final second passed as he exhaled and struck the ground.

3 seconds, the time it took for the spells to be completed and fired.

Spells were fired at Najin from all over the city. The moment the spells were fired, Najin was already running, having kicked off the ground. Black stakes embedded themselves with a “pababak!” sound where Najin had been standing. Blood-red beams melted the ground, and more than ten spells rushed in, shattering all obstacles in their path.

10 spells.

Najin’s eyes remained calm.

If it had been before he reached Sword Seeker, and before he experienced battles with witches in the Outer Continent, he might have struggled. But now, after experiencing all that…

It didn’t seem that difficult.

Najin sprinted. The spells that couldn’t keep up with his speed only hit wrong places, not reaching Najin. With a momentary acceleration, Najin began running along a wall.

Swaaaak!

Spells that targeted Najin rather than being manually aimed by mages eventually changed direction to chase him. Even with spells coming from behind, above, and in front—literally from all directions—Najin didn’t stop moving.

He swung his sword while running.

Despite his unstable posture from running along the wall, the trajectory drawn by his blade was clean. Skak! Spells caught in the sword energy disappeared without a trace. Through the clear field of vision, Najin kicked off the wall and leaped.

Among the 17 lights he had spotted earlier.

Toward the closest one.

Leaping toward a black mage hiding behind a collapsed wall, Najin swung his sword. There was a collapsed wall between Najin and the black mage, but the moment sword energy flashed from Najin’s sword, that wall lost its value as cover.

Skeuk.

The sword tip smoothly cut through the wall.

Since a human neck isn’t harder than a wall, the head of the black mage hiding behind the wall met the same fate as the wall. Najin’s movement didn’t stop there.

The motion of swinging the sword, landing, changing direction, and leaping again happened almost simultaneously.

Thus, by the time one black mage’s head hit the ground with a “thud,” Najin had already arrived at his next destination. Above the head of a black mage hiding between a roof and chimney. Najin swung his sword as he leaped over the black mage.

Pit.

A line was drawn from the black mage’s forehead to his chin. Najin didn’t wait for the body to fall forward. Kicking off the roof, Najin ran. His speed was excessively fast. It was difficult to track with the eyes, let alone pursue with magical means.

How could anyone be that fast?

Of course, while Najin’s physical abilities were excellent, they weren’t this overwhelmingly superior. The terrain played a role in creating such a scene. A terrain with many things to kick off from. Combat in an urban area lined with buildings and cover.

It was an environment extremely favorable to Najin.

‘It was also a familiar environment.’

Recalling the urban battle he had fought against the Order’s shadow branch in the underground city, Najin smiled unconsciously. He had become incomparably stronger since then. Feeling his growth, Najin moved his body even faster.

And from the black mages’ perspective, it was nothing short of a nightmare.

A corpse with a split head rolled off the roof. Seeing his comrade falling, a black mage hiding in a building was terrified. He reflexively tried to scream but barely held it back… but there was no need for that.

Because Najin fell through the ceiling.

Where to? Right above his head.

The black mage who reflexively looked up had his eyes wide open. Just as a scream was about to escape his lips, Najin’s sword tip swept across the black mage’s neck. While sweeping, Najin released the sword he was holding. He caught the sword that spun once in midair with a reverse grip.

Simultaneously with catching the sword, Najin swung his arm. Just like throwing a spear.

The longsword shot from Najin’s fingertips like a spear. Throwing a sword rather than a javelin. Of course, a longsword wasn’t designed for throwing, but with sufficient physical ability, it wasn’t a problem.

Swaaaak!

The sword shot in a straight line shattered the window of the opposite building. It embedded itself with a “kwak” in the shoulder of a black mage who was aiming a staff at Najin from behind the window.

“Kuuugh…!”

Even while screaming, the black mage didn’t stop casting his spell. It was a good decision, but not the best. The trembling from pain added 1 second to the spell manifestation.

1 second. More than enough time for Najin to jump over the building and arrive in front of the black mage.

Clang.

After completely shattering the window he had already broken once by throwing his sword, Najin kicked it again and entered the building. The wide-eyed black mage turned the tip of his staff toward Najin, but it was already too late.

Once a swordsman is allowed to approach, a mage cannot defeat the swordsman.

Kwak.

Najin’s outstretched hand grasped the hilt of the longsword embedded in the black mage’s shoulder. Sword energy, which had disappeared when the sword left Najin’s hand, surged again in the longsword. Using the black mage’s shoulder as a scabbard, Najin drew his sword.

The longsword, wrapped in sword energy, was swung, shattering the scabbard. The blade that rose, cutting through the black mage’s shoulder, split the black mage’s head.

Kuuuung…

As if intending to crush Najin along with the building, the black mages fired spells indiscriminately at the building. Of course, Najin wasn’t slow enough to be hit by blind spells. After cutting through the outer wall of the building, Najin escaped outside.

‘This is too easy? When I fought black mages before, I don’t think they were this easy…’

The previous Fauve subjugation operation in the underground sewer.

He had received fatal wounds then, and it had been somewhat dangerous. Now it was too smooth. Was Fauve perhaps stronger? As Najin thought this, Merlin spoke with disbelief.

-How could that be? He was only at the 4th circle level, purely thanks to artifacts and masterpieces. The ones you’re fighting now are probably around the 3rd to 4th circle too?

Merlin clicked his tongue.

-Back then, you were a Sword Expert, right?

‘Yes, I was.’

-And you didn’t have a star either.

‘That’s right.’

-But now you have a star and you’re a Sword Seeker? Plus, you have a very great archmage by your side.

‘The last one doesn’t seem very helpful.’

-What did you say?

As the great archmage glared at him, Najin moved forward with a smirk. Of course, his own strengthening played a part, but Najin knew there was another reason why this operation was so easy.

The leader of the black mages settled in this city.

The estimated 6th circle mage, Zarkan.

He and his main forces would be busy trying to stop Juel right now. Even with all the sacrifices and artifacts they had prepared in their workshop, it would be difficult to block Juel’s steps.

As evidence, the castle that was presumed to be their workshop was constantly being shaken.

From the perspective of the black mages occupying Valdernos, it was enough to drive them crazy.

A Sword Master was rampaging at the back gate, and at the main gate, an unknown boy was thoroughly defeating the mages sent to secure an escape route. The Sword Master was one thing, but who on earth was this boy?

His position changes with each blink of an eye. He always moves one step ahead, as if foreseeing the future. He closes distances in all sorts of extraordinary ways. Somehow knowing where they’re hiding, he suddenly breaks through walls, rushes in, and takes their heads.

He jumps out from ceilings, extends his sword through walls to kill, and even throws his sword to kill. With each spell they cast, one comrade disappears—it was enough to make ghosts wail.

‘Is that guy really an inquisitor?’

‘What kind of inquisitor is like that?’

‘Is he a knight then? No, he doesn’t seem like that either.’

‘What kind of knight throws his fucking sword?’

The black mages screamed.

They were supposed to be the ones fighting unfairly, but the opponent was fighting even more unfairly and meanly. The black mages groaned as they realized how the knights they had defeated must have felt.

Of course, their circumstances were none of Najin’s concern.

Najin leisurely roamed every corner of Valdernos, hunting black mages escaping from the castle.

Kuuuung!

And then, it happened.

The old castle located in the center of the city. The castle that the black mages had occupied and converted into a workshop. With a roaring sound, a person fell from the top of that castle. No, can this be described as falling? There should be a more appropriate expression.

Yes. A person was being “shot.”

And in a straight line toward where Najin was standing.

3.

“Do you know something?”

“Kuk, huk, heuik…”

“If you divide Valdernos in a 7:3 ratio, here, where you and I are standing right now, is part of the 7.”

Juel spoke calmly.

Her hair, resembling the first snow of winter, was white and smooth, and her blood-red eyes, half-open and half-closed between long eyelashes, were bewitching.

She is a beautiful woman. Befitting a woman who is never left out when discussing beauties in the Empire, Juel’s appearance was terribly beautiful. Even her perpetually expressionless face felt charming.

Zarkan, the black mage now facing her up close, almost found Juel “beautiful.”

“Kuk, keuk!”

If only this crazy woman wasn’t strangling him, if only she hadn’t ground up all his subordinates filling this castle, he might have thought so.

Zarkan, the 6th circle black mage.

The leader of the black mages occupying Valdernos.

He looked at Juel, who was gripping his neck, with trembling eyes. Meeting his gaze, Juel’s eyes remained indifferent. As if she had not the slightest interest in the person before her.

“And I promised. I would take care of the part corresponding to 7, so you should take care of the remaining part corresponding to 3. Ah, the ‘you’ I’m referring to here is not you whose neck I’m currently holding.”

He wasn’t curious. Not at all.

But if your neck is being held, and the one holding it is a Sword Master… you should listen to stories even if you’re not curious.

“So according to our promise, killing you is my role. Since you were in a place corresponding to seven. But, I’m disappointed.”

Juel moved her lips with a “hmm.”

“I want to see that boy fighting a little more. I want to see him bleeding, see him winning by a narrow margin. Yes, killing you right in front of me would certainly be enjoyable, but…”

She nodded.

She seemed to have made a decision.

“I think this would be more enjoyable.”

The top floor of the castle occupied by black mages.

The top of the castle where the entire view of Valdernos could be seen at a glance. Juel walked toward the edge of that top.

“Demons are very resistant to physical impact. I’ve tested it. How much pure physical impact, without any magical means, is needed for a demon to perish? The results were quite interesting.”

Juel spoke while walking leisurely.

“3,761 times. Even after a blade entered its heart 3,761 times, the demon did not die. Did it die on the 3,762nd time? Surprisingly, no. At the 3,762nd time, the demon committed suicide. A pity. I wanted to test how much it could endure.”

Saying this, Juel tilted her head.

“I’ve talked too much. The point is this. Demons are sturdy. Naturally, your body, which has contracted with a demon, must also be sturdy. You won’t die just from falling from this height.”

The edge of the top floor.

When dividing Valdernos in a 7:3 ratio, this was precariously part of the 7. One more step forward would be part of the 3.

Tak.

Standing at the boundary, Juel raised her arm.

“Humans always want to fly. Most humans have a longing for the word ‘flight.’ I hope you do too.”

Then she swung her arm.

As if throwing a ball.

“Have a good flight.”

Juel threw Zarkan.

From the top floor of the castle toward the ground. More precisely, toward where Najin was standing.

Swaaaak!

Except that the method was somewhat rough, and the direction was toward the ground rather than the sky. And, considering that the expression “flying in the sky” is used for “moving through the air without feet touching the ground”…

Zarkan was undoubtedly flying right now.

“Ku, uaaaaaaaaaak!”

Zarkan screamed.

Unfortunately, there was no one to hear his scream.