Chapter 85: Swordmaster Rodan (1)

Ah, that lunatic?

Huh? What did I just say? I’m pretty sure I said Riven Blade.

Come on, you must’ve misheard. How could I, of all people, dare to slander the monster who reached the pinnacle of superhuman ability with just a single sword…

Oh, by the way, it’s probably not a good idea to use the title ‘Riven Blade’ in front of that man. The ignorant might simply assume, “Oh, he’s missing an eye? That’s why he’s Riven Blade!” But the truth is far more complicated.

When Rodan left his family, he dueled his mother—the matriarch of his house. He took her arm, but lost an eye in return.

A riven eye, a riven arm. And when his father cast him out, he was riven from the family itself. Worse still, his erratic personality pushes away anyone who tries to get close. Even his sword, with its jagged, broken edge, is riven.

Of all the meanings his title carries, the only one that isn’t a curse is blade—signifying his prowess as a swordmaster.

This became a joke because everything he does sparks questions and complaints from others, like, “Why?”

That’s why he’s the Why-ven Blade instead of the Riven Blade.

Haha, ha. I know, it’s a terrible joke. I had that same look on your face at first.

But it’s true. When people think of Riven Blade, they think of his crazy antics before they think of his maimed eye.

Common sense doesn’t apply to him, especially since he enjoys that reputation. According to him, not being defined by common sense is proof of being special.

If you ever meet him, you’ll only think one thing: What the hell is with this guy?

But of course, don’t let it show too much. This madman rarely gives meaning to others.

Think about it. How boring must everyone else seem from his perspective? No doubt, people probably look like pebbles on the road to him. That’s why he kicks them around without a care.

So here’s the core point I’m trying to get across: don’t even piss in his direction. The moment you do, you’ll be the one getting kicked.

And, just so you know, this is from personal experience. Damn it.

– Eloran the Crawling Library –

(Keyword: The Seven Swords – Riven Blade)

Looking at the scene unfolding before him, Rodan wondered: What the hell is with this guy?

-That look in your eye! How dare you look at me and Mastah that way! You little worm! If only I weren’t in this state, you would have been begging for mercy, crawling on the ground long ago!

“Dan’Galeon, calm down.”

-But, look at his expression! How dare you insult Mastah—

“I think that’s enough, so stop with the provocation.”

Because I’m starting to feel in danger.

-Is that so? I don’t think this worm feels threatened enough…but if Mastah says so!!!

Dan’Galeon the Scorching Black Flame.

Rodan lingered on the name, searching his memory to ensure it was correct. If he recalled rightly, that name had been mentioned by Dranoff, the high priest of the White Shadow Order, with whom he was working.

It was the name of the devil worshiped by the cultists of a different faction, the entity to be invoked in the ritual.

But why was the crystal orb, the prison of Dan’Galeon, now in the hands of that human?

No, maybe I can understand how that happened. But obeying a human?

Devil worshiper was a perfectly natural combination of words. After all, the incredibly arrogant beings called devils placed all beings beneath themselves.

But a devil servant?

What is that? Why does something like that even exist? The very sound of it feels wrong.

Aren’t they immortal beings who can’t be subdued even by death?

What did that boy do?

Shakan, grasped by the throat, gasped for breath as Rodan unconsciously loosened his grip. The conversation between that human and the devil servant had momentarily paralyzed a swordmaster.

Truly, a power that nearly transcended all limits.

Rodan remained dazed even as Shakan tentatively returned to her place.

Risir cautiously spoke to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

Risir smiled wryly. Even in that brief clash, he had sensed the gap in power.

He lamented his own powerlessness, knowing he could only stand by and watch as the three powerhouses fought.

Yet, the three looked at him with complex expressions.

“No really…”

It seems like you’re doing everything for us?

But as the tension in the air eased following the exchange between Dan’Galeon and Risir…

“Ugh…!”

They heard Dranoff steadying himself.

His magic power, which had been tangled in a state of mana reflux, was quickly stabilizing.

The expressions of the three powerhouses twisted, realizing that the cultist had abandoned all defense and vigilance, focusing solely on recovery.

In doing so, Dranoff was openly showing his confidence that, as long as Rodan stood in front of him, none of the three would dare make a move.

Even as Rodan stood still, lost in thought, his presence continued to weigh heavily on his opponents. If anyone thought they could exploit a gap in his defense to launch a surprise attack, it would immediately be met with a counterstrike.

But what if the target of that surprise attack was Dranoff?

If Dranoff were removed, Rodan’s sword would undoubtedly turn toward them.

Punishing them for the crime of killing a White Shadow priest seemed illogical, but rumors suggested that Riven Blade was more than capable of such an act.

When that happened…could Risir persuade him to stand down?

It’s absurd to entrust this heavy responsibility to that young mage.

A voice of conscience echoed in their hearts. But then, another voice quickly followed, drowning it out.

Please Risir!!!

And this is why it’s crucial to carefully choose the people one associates with.

The powerhouses had made rational choices at every turn to reach their current positions. But when faced with the crossroads of death, they abandoned their intellect, reducing themselves to nothing more than primitives, screaming that two-syllable name.

Begging for the intervention of a being with extraordinary power!

The situation was desperate, and that’s why they had to act even more swiftly.

After exchanging glances, they scattered.

The fire mage and the Devil Hunter launched a swift attack from the farthest angles possible, while Shakan blocked Rodan’s path.

It was a textbook move of “Even a swordmaster can’t stop this!”

They succeeded in executing the ideal movements they had envisioned. Who would think this was their first time working together?

The only problem was that the swordmaster’s response far exceeded their expectations.

Shakan’s breath caught in her throat as her opponent moved with a speed that easily surpassed her heightened perception. Rodan’s long, white hair fluttered in front of the beastkin’s sharp eyes.

Before she knew it, the swordmaster was right in front of her.

It was possible to defend. Or to be exact, that was all she could do.

The moment she took her stance, a familiar sensation surged through her.

Bam!

Once again, the beastkin was kicked and sent flying by the swordmaster’s foot.

Unlike before, she managed to deflect the impact and maintain her posture. However…

“Shaka—”

She was hurled toward the fire mage, who had just finished his spell.

The spear of flame, which should have been aimed at Dranoff, was intercepted by the beastkin’s body.

Boom!

The explosion of fire engulfed them both.

Meanwhile, a special crossbow bolt fired by the Devil Hunter sped toward the high priest’s brow.

Following a perfectly aimed trajectory—it suddenly veered off course.

“What…!”

A pebble had knocked it out of the air. A pebble that the swordmaster had been holding.

Why had he been holding something like that?

The answer to the Devil Hunter’s question came immediately.

“Argh!”

Like shrapnel from an explosion, multiple pebbles thrown from the swordmaster’s hand struck the Devil Hunter’s body in several places.

He narrowly avoided fatal injury by instinctively concentrating mana on his vital points, but in exchange, he sustained all other injuries.

The little finger of his left hand was nearly broken off, and one of his ears had been severed.

The sounds of his body bursting—whether from the pebbles, the tearing of skin, or the breaking of bones—blurred together.

Agony consumed him. It took all his strength just to stay conscious.

Coughing in pain, the Devil Hunter’s next move wasn’t to continue the attack, but to retreat and take a defensive stance.

“Damn it, Valrod! Are you okay?!”

“I should be asking you…”

The fire mage and the beastkin warrior were in the same state.

During this lull, Rodan strolled leisurely to stand in front of Dranoff. He kicked the stone floor casually—once, twice. On the third kick, a hole formed in the ground.

Rodan bent down and scooped up a handful of pebbles from the hole.

The three powerhouses couldn’t help but feel fear at the nonchalant action.

Facing three enemies, the swordmaster didn’t need a sword. A ridiculously strong body and a vast pool of mana were enough.

In just a single clash, the three of them experienced the overwhelming power and violence of a swordmaster, one who had reached the realm of superhuman ability through sheer skill alone.

They had no choice but to change their stance.

They hadn’t even dared to try from the start, but this engagement made it all the more certain—they had to avoid a direct confrontation with the swordmaster. Otherwise, even running away wouldn’t guarantee their survival.

But how? The decision wasn’t theirs to make.

The decision was…

-You worm!!! How dare you act that way before Mastah!!!

“…”

…Whose decision was it again?

The taut tension once again fell apart at Dan’Galeon’s shout.

The swordmaster fell speechless and simply stared at the gray energy fluctuating within the devil’s crystal orb.

-You, human sword-swinger! Mastah has extended a hand of mercy, yet you still cling to that filthy, despicable devil worshiper?!

“Uh—”

You, of all creatures, shouldn’t speak of a devil worshiper like that, no?

Rodan almost interjected but caught himself. Instead, he offered what sounded like an excuse.

“Still, shouldn’t I keep my options open?”

Normally, Rodan would have subdued or killed everyone except Dranoff without a word. But the devil servant and its otherworldly master were clouding his thoughts.

How could he think rationally when faced with what were practically embodiments of irrationality?

“You, what are you called again? Mastah?”

“Risir!”

“Right, Risir. Prove that you can help me. Go on. Do so, and I’ll trust you.”

-You imbecilic worm! Did that worthless devil worshiper give you any certainty then?! If your arrogant attitude makes Mastah lose interest, can you handle the consequences?!

“Risir!”

-Mastah! Please, do not tolerate his arrogance any longer!

Ughh. And what can I do if I don’t tolerate it?

Risir held back the urge to retort in disbelief and played along with Dan’Galeon. Given the situation, it seemed that taking a bolder approach would be far more effective than adopting a humble stance.

“No. As you said, there’s no guarantee that the devil worshiper can give him definite help. I want to save him from the hands of the vile devil.”

-As expected of Mastah!!! That’s right! Only Mastah can save that blind worm from the hands of the vile devil!

“I’ll try.”

It sounded like a charade. If anyone else had spoken those words, they would have felt like a worthless, meaningless statement.

But coming from someone who had created such a devout devil servant, it felt different.

“Hm…”

Rodan, along with the three powerhouses, was swayed.

“Rodan—!”

Dranoff coughed in pain. Unable to bear listening any longer, he abandoned trying to steady his breath and called out to Rodan.

As a result, his mana tangled again, and blood poured from the wounds on his face, but he didn’t care.

If there was ever a moment to speak, even at the cost of his life, it was now.

“You don’t need to listen to that insane cretin! That’s not Dan’Galeon!”

-Unbeliever!!! How dare you deny me!!!

“What you’re denying is yourself—kack! Isn’t that right?!! Where is your pride as a devil? How can you play the lapdog to a mere human?!”

-A worthless devil-worshiping fool like you, unable to even control your own desires, will never understand!

“What, how can you say such—kack! Gagh! Hurk!!!”

Mental confusion worsened his mana reflux. Despite all his efforts to control himself, Dranoff’s magic power only became more chaotic.

In the end, the devil worshiper, who had fought to hold himself together until the very end, finally lost his head.

If this continued, it was only a matter of time before the swordmaster fell to the temptation of those maniacs. He had to act first before that happened.

Prrk!

Something pierced Dranoff’s thigh—a black-bladed dagger, drawn by Dranoff.

Dranoff didn’t stop there. He stabbed himself in several other places, feeding the dagger with his blood. A dark energy swirled within the black blade.

The blade was the sealing stone that contained the devil Maltael.

-That’s…! Mastah! You must stop him! He, he is trying to summon the Howl That Rends the Wilds!

Dan’Galeon’s voice carried an unusual mix of confusion and fear.

The devil worshiper was trying to replace numerous rituals and sacrifices with his own life.

For most devil worshipers, worshiping the devil was merely a means to gain power, and Dranoff was no different. In that sense, his actions now were the complete opposite of what they should have been.

What was the point of gaining a devil’s power if his existence would be devoured?

But Dranoff didn’t care. He was certain that this choice would bring the worst possible outcome to his enemies. The great Maltael would remember his devotion, unlike that other pitiful excuse of a devil.

And he would surely be granted the mercy he deserved. Even if Maltael took his power and flesh, he would be given another body.

Sensing something was wrong, the swordmaster twisted Dranoff’s wrist, but it was already too late.

O Howl That Rends the Wilds…! May you manifest through your faithful servant!!!

Dranoff’s cry had already reached the devil.

And the gluttonous devil would never miss such an opportunity.

“!!!”

For the first time, composure vanished from the swordmaster’s face. He backed away from Dranoff with evident urgency, discarding the pebbles in his hand and gripping the hilt of his sword.

Abruptly, the room seemed to thicken with moisture as an almost tangible darkness swept through the air—like the tongue of a predator caressing its prey.

Seconds later, the blood Dranoff had spilled began to take shape, coloring his body. It resembled blood vessels sprouting from his skin, or the leaves of a conifer that had grown by feeding on blood.

“Curse your complacency…Rodan…”

The devil worshiper burst into a rage-filled, manic laughter.

The tasting was over. The devil had made up its mind.

Drip. Plop.

“…?”

The blood that had been tracing the devil worshiper’s skin lost its form and collapsed.

The devil had made its decision—it didn’t want to be resurrected here.

The dark energy in the dagger’s blade dispersed. Maltael abandoned most of its power, shifting its ego to another sealing stone somewhere in this world.

The devil worshiper’s body trembled. The streams of blood gushing from the wounds he had inflicted on himself grew even more violent.

“You, you trash!!! You pack of crawling vermin!!! I-I will surely become a devil and deny your very existence and—!!!”

The devil worshiper’s body collapsed lifelessly. The cause was mana reflux, self-inflicted bleeding, and the acceleration of bleeding due to increased blood pressure.

The devil worshiper’s curse was, in fact, directed at the devils.

“…”

The swordmaster’s eyes gleamed with intense focus as he turned toward Risir.

Startled, the three powerhouses quickly moved to shield the young mage. Rodan would seek revenge for the death of the devil worshiper who was supposed to help him. The Riven Blade they knew would certainly do so.

However, Rodan had realized something.

“Guess it really was a crazy idea to try getting help from a devil worshiper.”

If Rodan no longer intended to seek help from a devil worshiper, Risir would have no way to persuade him.

But as the three powerhouses braced themselves for Riven Blade to lash out erratically…

“Do you mind, uh…”

Riven Blade hesitated, eyeing the devil servant and its master.

“Ah.”

The three powerhouses nodded in understanding.