Ch.675The Exploration Battle Is Over.

Dainslayf and Randalin. Both were sacred treasures I’d never seen in the original work.

Considering how they were emphasized as national treasures for the King of Dane, perhaps in the original work I couldn’t use them because I wasn’t of royal status.

Either way, both were quite threatening weapons.

Even with Rotholandus’s protection, it wouldn’t block the curse contained in the blade, not just the blade of blood itself.

The fact that I possess mana resistance and can withstand ordinary blades with my bare body would already be known.

Yet seeing his confidence, it meant that even I would be wounded if cut by that sword.

And that shield was quite troublesome as well.

Randalin, was it? Based on our exploratory battle so far, that shield seemed to perfectly absorb or nullify any impact inflicted upon it.

Meaning simple slashes, or even powerful strikes, would be meaningless against it.

“National treasures for a king… they seem to live up to their name. Worth massacring your brother and nephews, wasn’t it?”

“They’re too good for Hestein.”

As expected, he seemed to have slaughtered his own kin to obtain that sword.

Typical bastard behavior.

Ragnar drew Dainslayf, now fully saturated with blood, through the air with a triumphant smile. A crescent-shaped slash of blood erupted from the blade and rushed toward me.

Not an extension of the blade, but a magical projectile slash. With each swing of Ragnar’s sword, crimson crescents cut through the air, flying at me with lightning speed.

“Is that all you’ve got!”

I infused Durandal with the power of heroic deeds and swung it to counter the blood blades flying toward me.

Absolute Void. A vacuum blade shot along my sword collided with the blood-red crescent, releasing a thunderous roar. The clashing slashes. The air exploded repeatedly as formless blood scattered like fireworks.

The ability to fire projectile slashes was nothing special anymore, just a common technique.

Ragnar frowned when he saw all his consecutive blood blades completely blocked.

“Invisible ranged slashes…? Did Durandal have such a function?”

He seemed to misunderstand my technique as Durandal’s ability. Perhaps he couldn’t imagine a person swinging a sword to fire vacuum blades.

Well, I’d never seen another knight capable of this besides myself.

I’d often encountered others who could launch slashes, but they couldn’t demonstrate this skill with pure karma power.

They either shaped dark mana into blade forms like wind blade magic, or like Ragnar before me, merely possessed weapons with the ability to launch slashes.

I could understand why Ragnar mistook Absolute Void for Durandal’s power.

“Who knows?”

Of course, how he misunderstood was none of my business.

As the shattered slashes that never reached me rained down as blood, I threw off my tattered robe with its cut front and fully drew upon the two streams of karma within me.

The murderous karma rose like wildfire, spreading like twelve tentacles like wings, imbuing my body with superhuman strength that transcended even heroes.

The exploratory battle ends here. By now, all non-combat personnel in the palace should have evacuated, so I could fight without worrying about the surroundings. Probably.

“Indeed, an unbelievable power. I understand why the ‘Third’ was so cautious.”

Ragnar had also been testing me, and now he too began to reveal his full strength with a hardened expression.

Gray sacred light enveloped his entire body. The blessing of the Church of Volberg strengthened his flesh.

The miracle that enhances physical abilities and strengthens mental power, Warrior’s Soul.

The miracle that dulls pain while increasing reaction speed, Storm of Passion.

And then—

“His spear shall be the storm that declares war.”

With an incantation similar to yet slightly different from Knut’s, a gray vortex formed in the air. It was the “Spear of Declaration,” the representative power of the Church of Volberg.

Truly worthy of an apostle. The aura was on a completely different level from the spear Knut had manifested. Like the gap between a knight who had just reached mastery and those who had attained heroic status.

“Kyaaaah!”

I charged toward him, kicking off the ground.

A full-power charge like when I faced Orhan. The ground beneath my feet exploded like a bombed building, and the entire palace chamber shook violently.

“Kenaz, Isaz, Thurisaz!”

Ragnar unleashed rune magic at me while swinging his blood blade.

The ground everywhere erupted like multiple small volcanoes, with streams of red flames shooting upward.

A massive hand made of ice flew toward me with fingers spread as if to grab me, and crackling lightning extended in a straight line, aiming for my heart.

“Ha, is this all you’ve got!”

I extended my left hand to block the lightning bolt that struck like a flash.

“Hagalaz!”

The activation word I uttered just before the lightning touched my fingertips. The rune engraved on my wrist glowed, imbuing my left hand with the power of collapse.

*Crackle-zap!*

The collision of collapse and lightning. Mine was the victor. The destructive mana that returns everything to dust shattered even lightning into pieces.

This was the second technique I had devised through conversations with Knut—magic crushing.

A defensive method that awakens the rune of collapse to destroy the magic itself the moment an enemy’s spell touches my left hand.

If the timing were off even slightly, I’d be offering my left hand to the enemy’s magic, but considering my reaction speed, that was a meaningless concern.

After practicing with Knut, I found I could break most magical attacks unless they were fired at the speed of light or had such massive output that they couldn’t be dispersed instantly.

After dispersing the lightning, I immediately threw my body sideways to avoid the blood slash, then fired vacuum blades to neutralize the following slashes.

A couple of slashes avoided the trajectory of my vacuum blades and flew toward me, but they too were blocked by Hersella’s murderous karma tentacles, shattering into droplets of blood before reaching my body.

Next came the icy hand.

*Crack-crunch!*

The massive ice chunk scraped against the melting, crumbling ceiling and floor as it rushed toward me. I clenched my left fist tightly and infused Frosting with murderous karma.

Blood-red lightning covered my burnt gauntlet. Destructive Lightning. A destructive bolt struck like a spike toward the giant hand trying to grab me.

The karma lightning penetrated the ice, tearing apart its interior. With a sound like an explosion, the giant hand shattered like a glass marble hit by a hammer.

The broken ice fragments scattered in all directions, embedding themselves everywhere and melting.

I smiled as I lightly shook my slightly numb left arm.

If I tried to stack Destructive Lightning on my forearm, my left arm would shatter from the overload, but it could easily withstand a single layer.

The recoil was nothing more than a slight muscle numbness.

*Whoosh!*

The pillar of fire wasn’t even a threat.

If I were still wearing leather clothes, I would have had to be careful not to burn my top or bottom, but now I was wearing steel armor that had been temporarily supplied.

Scale armor made by threading steel scales with wire. The clothing underneath would burn completely, but with this armor, I wouldn’t end up in an embarrassing state of undress like before.

The entire armor turned red-hot from the heat, but Ragnar’s rune didn’t reach the level of firepower needed to melt steel, as even the wire threading the scales held without breaking.

Anyway, I closed the distance while completely neutralizing all his attempts to check me.

Lightning bolts, blood slashes, ice hands—they could at most slow my steps momentarily, but couldn’t inflict any damage on me.

Of course, Ragnar might not have expected more than buying time, as he showed no change in expression despite seeing all his magic neutralized, and simply continued with his second incantation.

“From one to nine. The endless falling golden gifts shall fill his treasury.”

As rings of sacred light formed around Ragnar’s wrists, the Spear of Declaration swirling above his head multiplied into nine.

Nine Golden Bracelets. The eighth apostle’s main ability—the power of spell replication that multiplies projectiles ninefold.

Finally bringing out his main technique, is he?

Nine streams of the Spear of Declaration flew toward me like divine wrath as I approached after shattering all his magic.

—-

Nine streams of the Spear of Declaration. It was literally a natural disaster of a windstorm.

*Kwaooooo!*

The madly swirling air currents sucked in all surrounding air and howled fiercely. Fragments of the broken and melted palace chamber were caught in the vortex, spinning and colliding with each other, sparking and shattering.

*Crack-rumble!*

The walls and ceiling in contact with the vortex were all scraped away, and the chamber, which was already close to ruins, now shook as if about to collapse completely.

The corpses of Dane royalty lying around Ragnar became unrecognizable pieces of meat spinning round and round.

Tension moistened my lips. My senses, sharpened to the extreme, stimulated my brain and released excitement. Even without activating Defying Fate, everything in my vision moved slower than normal.

“Yes, now this is more like it!”

I gripped Durandal with both hands and raised the corners of my mouth. Perhaps I’d become too accustomed to this body. The sense of danger was actually welcome.

The blue-silver blade, heavily infused with heroic deeds, emitted a dazzlingly blue light.