Chapter 113
Chapter 113
Arrogance and Ruin (2)
I ignored Settern Volos, who stood there blankly, and focused on the opponent before me.
‘He’s not going to run anyway.’
Running wasn’t an option for Settern Volos while I was facing off against the guards with Irena.
Everyone in this village was cooperating with me and Irena.
The car he had arrived in was already out of commission—its tires ruined, its brakes ripped out. I would take down the guards faster than Settern Volos could walk to Murdan City.
“I asked you where the other two are.”
The ceiling exploded as a man came crashing down from the sky like a bolt of lightning. I stepped back, and where I had just been standing, a battered man now knelt on one knee, staring straight at me.
A faint flicker of flame danced at the spot where his knee struck.
“What’s with the stare?”
The man, who descended as if by divine wrath, had snowflake-shaped tattoos on both arms, shimmering with a blue aura.
His legs bore tattoos of flickering flames, the red ink alive with movement.
“Tattoo freaks are everywhere these days.”
The flames flickering at the impact site were likely the effect of those tattoos.
“Fire from flame tattoos? That artist’s got no imagination.”
The snowflake tattoos on his arms likely generated cold, I guessed.
That made one more left in the lineup. I clicked my tongue after scanning the area.
“Looks like he’s attacking from a distance.”
As if in response, a silver-white rod, roughly three meters long, pierced through a wall and flew straight at Irena.
…
Irena swung her stained glass blade, knocking the rod away. It suddenly stopped midair, changed direction, and shot back outside the building.
“Well, would you look at that. Is it going back to its owner?”
After analyzing the incoming rod, Irena turned her attention back to the burly man with the axe.
“Hey miss, you busy? Got time for a cup of tea?”
Grinning, the giant pulled out a piece of whetstone and started sharpening his axe while speaking to Irena in a greasy tone.
For a moment, Irena’s figure blurred and then she was right in front of his face.
As stained glass clashed with a massive axe in a shower of sparks, Irena grinned.
“I don’t drink tea with men weaker than me.”
“Wow, that’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one.”
The brute with the axe grinned lasciviously and tightened his grip.
With a metallic clang, the shape of the axe changed.
“What the—?!”
Before Irena could react, the head of the axe exploded with a loud bang, sending sharp metal fragments flying straight at her.
She swiftly swung her arms several times, generating a gust of wind that twisted the path of the incoming shrapnel.
“Swift Blade?”
Just as Irena had been startled by the sudden attack, so too was the axe-wielding brute, his face flashing with surprise.
“Looks like you know it? Well, it used to be pretty famous a few years ago… gah!”
Irena deflected the silver-white rod that flew at her again from outside the building. With a strange vibration, the rod halted midair once more before returning to its owner.
“That thing’s getting on my nerves.”
I also took note of the silver-white rod that had just flown at Irena. Unlike the metal shards launched by the guy with the axe, this rod wasn’t something that could be blocked with Swift Blade.
‘The precision is insane.’
The building was full of holes, sure, but still—sniping someone inside that accurately? Even I, having undergone the procedure of the Featherwing, couldn’t pull that off.
Which meant they weren’t relying on eyesight alone.
“What’s with all the thinking when you’ve got someone in front of you?”
The man with tattoos swung his leg in a wide arc, and blazing flames surged toward me like a tidal wave.
“Nothing much. Just hungry.”
The rushing wave of fire was scattered by a whirling gust of wind.
‘Ice and fire, huh.’
Dealing with this tattooed guy wasn’t going to be difficult for me.
Fire and ice inevitably created a drastic temperature difference.
And that sharp difference in temperature happened to be one of the essential elements in something I’d recently been obsessing over.
For now, there was no need to exploit the power he possessed. The sword in my hand began to tremble, sending out a faint hum.
“You’re just right for this.”
Even before, I’d believed I could win a fight against someone like him.
But back then, I was only barely confident I could win. And that was the important part.
‘I wonder how it’ll go now.’
By utilizing the add-on I got from Heringson and fully employing Nimbus, how quickly could I eliminate this guy?
That would be the measure of just how much stronger I’d become with Nimbus.
“Go ahead and show off. Let’s see if you’ve got the skills—this big brother will judge you.”
That’s why I decided not to use Swift Blade in this fight.
Whether I could win. Or not.
The tattooed man facing me clearly sensed some hidden confidence in my voice, and that didn’t sit well with him.
“To judge me—!”
With a ground-shaking Rear Node, he charged and threw a punch, shouting,
“—you’d better be worth judging, bastard!”
His fist and my trembling blade clashed. My sword dug into his fist, and blood spilled from the gash.
“…?!”
The vibrating blade—Nimbus Blade.
The Nimbus Blade’s original function was to break water and generate mist using its oscillation, but that wasn’t all it could do.
The high-speed vibrating blade boasted overwhelming cutting power—even without reaching frequencies capable of turning water into mist.
‘I can cut alloys that I couldn’t even scratch with Flicker.’
The moment it touched skin, the vibration of the blade translated into a flurry of fine slashes.
Just like how a tree that can’t be felled with a single swing eventually topples under repeated axe strikes, the vibrating blade worked the same way—shaving through matter bit by bit.
“Must’ve had a decent tattoo artist. I thought I’d shatter your fist.”
Though I’d wounded him, to be exact, it was barely more than a scratch.
That only proved how powerful the tattoos etched into his body were.
“You won’t get me twice!”
I pressed on. The Nimbus Blade clashed with his fists, and the sharp, grating sound rang out endlessly.
“I told you.”
Just as he had boldly claimed, this time I didn’t manage to leave a mark on his hand.
Grinning, I spoke to him.
“You can’t make fire or ice now, can you, dumbass?”
By diverting all the tattoo’s energy into durability reinforcement, he’d lost the ability to generate fire or ice.
“I don’t need that kind of crap to deal with the likes of you.”
“No—you do.”
All it did was buy him some time to endure without injury. And even that was only under the assumption that I kept relying solely on the Nimbus Blade and didn’t use any other techniques.
‘He might stand a chance if he fought by burning away his tattoos.’
Instead of simply maintaining the tattoos, he could sacrifice them during battle to unleash greater power.
But I wasn’t stupid enough to help him figure that out.
“Irena.”
“What?! I’m a little busy here!”
Irena shouted as she brought her heel crashing down on an axe aimed at her.
“Let’s lay down the clouds.”
I reached for the hip flask hanging at my side.
“…Alright. I’m still not confident, though.”
If we didn’t use it, we wouldn’t improve. The time spent practicing would be meaningless. Irena and I turned the spouts of our hip flasks in unison.
“This is…”
Just as Heringson had promised, the add-on he crafted released a tremendous volume of vapor, flooding the inside of the village hall with thick mist.
“Ha! You think you’re the only ones blinded by this fog?!”
Rather than answer, Irena and I moved.
I swung my sword. Irena moved her limbs.
The shifting air generated wind, and the wind guided the mist exactly where we wanted it.
“We’re the exception. The ones who can’t see in this fog… are you.”
The dense, heavy mist wrapped around our heads like helmets, cloaking us in vision only we could access.
In a situation where nothing could be seen, the densely packed fog was thick enough to even hinder breathing.
With every breath, what entered the lungs wasn’t mostly air, but finely broken water droplets.
“Looks like we’re about to drown with our feet flat on solid ground.”
Of course, even if the fog wrapped around their heads like helmets, it wasn’t hard to break free.
Controlling the movement of the fog with Swift Blade had its speed limits. If they moved fast enough, they could escape those dreadful fog-helmets.
“Go ahead, try to break out. The moment you do—you’re dead.”
If the enemy moved, so would I and Irena.
The instant they escaped the fog covering their heads, they would inevitably be met with blades aimed right at their lives.
‘A strike you can’t see coming.’
Every movement had a preparatory stance and a trajectory. Fighters who had been through enough battles could read these patterns and predict what was next.
But with their vision blocked by fog, they couldn’t.
Unable to see the process, they had no way to prepare. In the end, they’d suddenly find a blade right in front of them.
…
So, does staying still make it any better? Not at all.
It was good to lie in wait within the fog but if too much time passed, the fog would lead to suffocating breathlessness.
“Oh, I forgot about you. Didn’t think you could shoot two rods at once.”
In that urgent, life-or-death moment, what saved the two was a silver-white rod shot from someone outside the building.
However, this one was shorter than the ones that had been launched earlier.
As soon as Irena and I heard the sound of the silver rods flying at us, we reacted instantly and escaped from the fog.
Because it all happened in the brief moment we were deflecting the rods, neither I nor Irena could respond in time.
“You bastards, I won’t let you die easily…!”
No sooner had they escaped the terrifying dilemma than the enemies reignited their killing intent.
I grinned at the two of them and said,
“Nice job, fellas. Shall we go again?”
Once more, the village hall filled with fog, and the wind’s current guided it straight to shroud the enemies’ heads.
Nothing had changed. The two of them were again trapped within helmets of fog, and unless the guy outside attacked me and Irena again, they had no hope of surviving.
It was a harsh contrast to their earlier declaration about not letting us die easily.
“You pathetic sons of bitches.”
The one watching from outside the building tightened his grip on the silver-white rod, his expression a mix of disbelief and disgust.
‘I need to run.’
If he wanted to live, he had to escape now. If he abandoned the other two and fled alone, he might survive.
Calculations began speeding up in his head.
‘I was ordered to guard a parliamentarian’s grandson. And I’m going to fail and run?’
What came next was obvious. Sadly, the three assigned to guard Settern Volos didn’t have the power to bear the wrath of Representative Lemington Volos.
“Either I die here…”
Or die trying to flee and failing, only to be killed by Lemington Volos.
The former meant certain death, but the latter, with some luck, might end in escape and survival. The conclusion was clear.
“I’m sorry.”
Clutching the silver rod tightly, the man turned and fled, abandoning the two remaining guards. It was the rational choice.
And that rational choice was effectively a death sentence for the two left inside the village hall.