Ch.295Storm (3)

The contractor’s upper body disappeared, collapsing as countless monsters surged from behind.

Soldiers were startled but prepared to respond.

In the distance, Isla and Melody were preparing for guerrilla warfare, while the Inquisitor was assessing Llewellyn and determining his next move.

Amidst the many eyes focused on him, Llewellyn withdrew the star cluster he had wielded to deflect attacks and took a deep breath.

With the help of the Elven Abbot, he had perfectly embodied all the techniques that transcended human capability.

It was thanks to this that he had achieved a proficiency of 8 points.

Six points was considered the realm of masters, the limit of human potential.

Seven points was the domain reached by sword saints, beyond human limitations.

And eight points—truly the realm of gods.

However, reaching such heights didn’t bring magical transformations.

He couldn’t perform miracles with his sword or make the impossible possible.

Rather, it was the opposite.

What was impossible with a sword became even more impossible, while what was possible simply became more refined.

Nothing had changed. He had merely deepened his understanding of his techniques until their forms and frameworks became meaningless.

In other words, technique had become infused into his every movement.

Llewellyn moved with this technique-infused action. He buried the metal toe of his boot into the ground.

His heel pressed against the floor. Preparation to launch without the slightest waste. The corresponding speed soon found Llewellyn.

[Explosive Leap]

The technique he had previously used to close distance with enemies now transformed into an even faster speed due to its completely forward-focused direction.

With acceleration and deceleration completely under his control, Llewellyn shot forward like a projectile, leaving his body behind.

At the end of his trajectory, his leg extended. A front kick adapted from the Dragon Drop technique.

It was like a ballista flying through the air. The monster that had been leaping from behind the dead contractor with its upper body carved out was struck by something invisible and lost its upper torso.

The full force of the front kick obliterated its upper body. The flesh scattered with a dry sound, creating a ghastly scene.

The moment Llewellyn came to a stop, there were two corpses. The contractor and the monster.

Llewellyn stood in the middle of the monsters’ formation, and they all turned to attack him at once.

It was an instinctive attack without hesitation or delay. The desperate struggle of transcendent beings. Llewellyn didn’t even roll his eyes. He simply exhaled a long breath while gripping his sword tightly where he had landed.

The insight gained from his 8-point proficiency and his senses replaced by divinity simultaneously predicted the situation. Llewellyn’s mind calculated.

If strength is lacking, the response is predetermined. One must rotate. Adapt to the enemy’s attack and return their power—that’s all.

But what if strength is abundant?

What if one possesses not just sufficient strength, but overwhelming power that no one else can match?

The answer is simple.

Make your posture compact and simple.

Slaughter them while tracing the most efficient path.

Llewellyn gripped his sword with both hands.

Swoooosh!

The great sword shot forward with a sound and then wailed eerily.

With both hands, he executed an upward slash from below.

The body of the nearest monster split in two. Before that corpse could even fall, Llewellyn pulled his right foot back.

His posture shifted. Following his naturally extended foot, he twisted his waist slightly and guided the upward sword with minimal waist strength.

This time, there was no sound. He executed a diagonal downward slash.

The humanoid monster that had been diving in from behind Llewellyn had its body split. The ox-like monster that Llewellyn had slashed first hadn’t even fallen yet.

In a fraction of a second, two monsters were already split and dead.

The number of monsters still charging seemed to create an illusion of infinity.

But Llewellyn didn’t hesitate. After the diagonal slash, he tilted his sword further sideways and applied waist strength.

Crrrack…!

Even that alone created an illusion of space being twisted.

What followed was a strike that wasn’t particularly special.

Just a horizontal slash from right to left, powered by waist strength.

But a storm was imbued in the sword strike.

KWAAAAAAAA!

A booming sound erupted as six enemies were slashed and scattered.

The power channeled through the long blade efficiently slaughtered the enemies, and the excess force became a storm that swept across the ground.

Countless monsters were caught up and sent flying, and even those that weren’t were thrown off balance. Staggering, collapsing, hesitating, and retreating monsters.

Llewellyn charged through that opening. His gripped sword painted the air blue.

Maximizing slaughter with minimized movement.

That was the answer Llewellyn had reached.

He dove in with a downward slash, splitting one in two, then moved his feet less than 5cm to swing horizontally, cutting off three heads simultaneously.

For the monster diving in from behind, he briefly extended his foot backward to crush its lower body, then used that stepping force to trace a large arc with his blade.

With each sword strike, a storm raged. It created openings in the enemy while negating any openings in Llewellyn’s swordplay.

It was perfection and beyond. A realm that no one else in the world could reach—only Llewellyn.

He thought to himself.

One strike, one kill—or more. No matter how many enemies there were, he could cut them all down.

Those who reached the same level of mastery would surely arrive at different conclusions.

If one lacks strength but has reached great heights, they would rotate.

They would channel the enemy’s power, their own sword strike, and precision all into the blade.

Even after defending against an enemy’s attack with rotation, they could strike precisely at their target without wavering, making it efficient.

Since they would be using the enemy’s own strength against them, such a person could fight indefinitely within the limits of their strength.

But what if one has abundant strength?

What if one possesses not just sufficient strength, but overwhelming power that no one else can match?

The answer is simple.

Cut down the enemy and force your will upon them.

Force endless one-on-one confrontations by nullifying the enemy’s movements, techniques, and attacks.

Until the killing blow, it’s essentially one-on-one, so even if they attack en masse, skillfully force them into individual confrontations.

But Llewellyn fit neither of these categories.

He had abundant strength. He possessed power that no one else in the world could approach, and it often transformed into a force that even he couldn’t control.

So what should he do?

Llewellyn now knew the answer.

Become the storm itself.

Become something like an irresistible calamity, something that no individual could possibly approach.

He might not reach the level of a transcendent being, but those transcendent beings couldn’t descend either.

So he would prove to their minions that he was no different from a transcendent being on this Netel.

As he cut through the swarming monsters, Llewellyn accumulated experience.

Slashing enemies, delivering kicks to monsters trying to attack from behind.

Taking the lives of those who tried to exploit openings in his swordplay by swinging his right hand like a claw.

“Advance! The King is with us!”

It was around the time the soldiers joined in and began pushing back the monsters alongside Llewellyn.

[Level up.]

The experience he had been gathering finally bore fruit. Llewellyn saw a window appear in the corner of his vision.

[Undertaker]

[When you defeat an enemy while under the effect of Mourning, you recover health proportional to their vitality.]

[Adds 2 points each to Strength and Dexterity.]

At last, he had obtained the core of his build.

[Name: Llewellyn]

[Race: God]

[Class: Warrior – Mourner 20]

[Reputation: Master of the Pantheon]

[Strength: 26(+8)][Dexterity: 26(+8)][Constitution: 26(+8)]

[Magic: □][Inspiration: □][Charm: □]

[Play Time: 11,041 hours]

Along with it came even greater power.

Llewellyn felt the vitality flowing through his body and twisted the corner of his mouth.

He could finally see the realm he had reached.

The star cluster screamed over his tightly gripped sword hilt, and Llewellyn twisted his waist greatly to swing his sword.

Monsters covered in what looked like swollen tumors were sent flying.

Monsters that had been charging toward the soldiers all collapsed as they were pierced by blood bullets fired by the Blood Knights.

Monsters that had been extending and swinging tentacle-like appendages from afar were stopped by arrows fired in volleys by the Inquisitor.

The enemy was being pushed back. No matter how incomprehensible transcendent beings were to human common sense and reason.

Would they remain idle as their objectives slipped further away?

Llewellyn rolled his eyes to look at the sky.

He could feel the “displeasure” emanating from something massive lurking beyond that sky.

Something that viewed them as less than insects, as mere microbes from their perspective, was displeased at the sight of its minions being crushed as they advanced.

It was just as Llewellyn had predicted. To stop the soldiers who were advancing behind him, Llewellyn raised his sword high and struck it into the ground.

KWAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

A strike that split the ground, creating distance between the monsters and the soldiers.

The overturned earth spewed its flesh and surged upward, and Llewellyn saw bright eyes revealed between the overturned earth.

The will of some enormous being. The one who created the Mourners, twisted life, and bestowed power beyond a single life’s potential.

The transcendent being that had its power usurped by Llewellyn was revealing its will.

“What is this…?”

A soldier’s voice filled with shock was heard. Llewellyn thought it was understandable while also thinking that it was finally showing its true colors.

The strength of a transcendent being lies in its near-infinite power.

Not in the number of minions it commands.

He believed it lay in its overwhelming strength and its authority to twist the principles of the world.

If such a transcendent being found that things weren’t going according to its will, it would surely reveal its power.

So this was inevitable.

He had discerned that this would definitely happen if they fought and pushed hard or defended well.

It was a bit earlier than expected, but.

Llewellyn narrowed his eyes as he stood at the forefront of the soldiers.

Crack, crrrrrack…!

He watched as something gradually revealed itself before him, accompanied by the grotesque sound of flesh and bone twisting.

It was like the time with the Night God. The world twisted, and something was revealing itself through a portal that had not yet closed.

The form of the transcendent being that had devoured his father.

Something twisted that combined regeneration and decay, birth and death. Something that couldn’t be fully perceived by human cognition, making its form not entirely visible.

It was like watching a severely damaged video. Distorted colors gradually swelled. Born from a mass of flesh that split where the minions had been, it resembled both a dragon and an insect.

Enormity should come with a sense of oppression from shadows and overwhelming mass.

If something enormous grows, corresponding growth is necessary.

But it seemed that none of these existed for that being. Suddenly, as if it had been there from the beginning, it revealed itself through the dust cloud, standing tall.

Simply put, it resembled a giant insect with a body that reached the sky.

One of the origins of the Mourners, revealing itself with an unrealistic sense of oppression.

The twisted and distorted part of the Mourners that Netel did not accept.

Perhaps, the entity that had granted the power of the Undertaker.

Llewellyn looked up at the transcendent being that had bestowed part of its power upon him.

The god-slayer looking down arrogantly at humans.

It seemed like a being that humans could not possibly face.

So enormous and overwhelming that it was difficult to even imagine defeating it.

It was unclear if magical power could reach it, and it wouldn’t be strange if the soldiers’ morale collapsed on its own.

But Llewellyn stood impassively.

Because he had anticipated this.

“My King.”

A sudden voice. Llewellyn rolled his eyes. As planned, three people were in place.

“We are ready.”

The Court Count, the Empress, and the Prophet.

The three heads of the three clans.

Created by the Steward, they had operated in the shadows of the world for a long time, waiting for him.

The three of them were the most powerful beings in this world of Netel, excluding Llewellyn.

And Llewellyn saw the potential they possessed. At the same time, he wondered.

Why unique skills didn’t exist for monsters and transcendent beings.

Why, despite contractors who had made pacts with transcendent beings having unique skills, other non-human entities didn’t possess them.

Llewellyn vaguely understood.

It was about potential. The reason transcendent beings coveted Netel, and why only humans among all living beings could become contractors by making pacts with transcendent beings.

Unique skills were powers obtained by humans who had reached extremes, a kind of divinity.

So when Llewellyn anticipated this outcome, he thought.

If these three used their unique skills, could they bind even a transcendent being?

So Llewellyn had asked them. If the transcendent being that had devoured his father revealed itself, what would they want to do?

There was no need to hear the answer.

The Court Count, the Empress, and the Prophet.

The three of them drew their swords, lowered their hoods, and removed their veils as they spoke.

“Origin Manifestation.”

“…Origin Manifestation.”

“Origin Manifestation!”

Watching this, Llewellyn thought.

A family reunion after thousands of years might be a bit intense.