Blades flashed in the firelight as over thirty bandits lunged toward Allen. Crouched in place, he scanned his surroundings in a heartbeat. Screams, curses, the shriek of steel slicing air, and the rustling of wind through leaves all flooded his ears.
Flickering figures filled his vision, breaking his spatial awareness.
But still—he heard it.
Amidst the chaos, he caught it:
The unmistakable malice of killing intent, and the fragmented whisper of magic incantations.
In that instant, Allen looked past the crowd toward Banbao, who was already staring back. Beyond them, a fiery glow flared against the night.
So that's it... A textbook Kiba-ha (Trick-Oriented Style) tactic.
He sensed something off about my Hanshaku Ougi (Rock Breaking Secret Technique) and tested me, quelled his comrades' fear, manipulated them to attack together...
Then used them as sacrificial pawns. Banking on the fact I don't use Kenjutsu Ryuu (Sword God Style), he bought time for the real finisher. That magical pressure... Advanced-class mage? Or Saint-class?
Clever. But too bad.
Healing glyphs activated. Time: ten seconds.
Ryūsei no Dōki (Dragon Saint Douki) burst from his body in radiant green veins! His Douki and mana roared across his limbs!
The next moment—
The bandit wave hit like a flood, engulfing Allen.
But Allen smiled into the night, his whisper drowned beneath the storm of blades.
"Suijin Ryuu (Water God Style) meets Hokushin Ryuu (North God Style)... Hanshaku and Nijūzan fused."
"Ougi—Hanshaku Geki-sui (Rock Strikes Water)."
His eyes snapped open. The blade disappeared into the dark, weaving through the crowd. Flowing Ryuu technique deflected over ten incoming blades. In each gap, Douki-enhanced Nijūzan (Twenty Slash) burst forth from his limbs!
His sword ignited like lightning.
Ten attackers halted mid-swing. A breath later, they exploded apart.
Arms. Legs. Torsos.
Organs. Bones. Skulls.
Chunks of flesh rained like wheat cut by a scythe.
Allen stood in the clearing he had carved with blood, eyes locked on the rising flames.
Under the dancing firelight stood Greyhawk, staff raised, finishing his chant:
"Hellfire Explosion! Die, you monster!"
Their eyes met.
But Greyhawk's held no triumph—only dread.
All that in a blink... Half of them gone... Thank the gods the spell's done. Banbao was right. Sacrifices were heavy, but we're still alive—
Heat blasted his face.
A line of blood split his head, from scalp to brow to chin.
Allen stood in front of him.
Close enough to smell.
Shock froze Greyhawk's expression. Allen's blade shimmered with heat distortion.
Greyhawk's face melted like cheese dropped in boiling oil.
At the same moment—
Two severed Hellfire Explosions behind Allen detonated midair, ripping into the bandit ranks.
The fiery shockwave blew across Allen's back. The blood coating his uniform crackled and hardened in an instant.
He dropped the scorched blade he'd used to cut the spell. His original sword had already broken during Hanshaku.
Flames licked his skin, but his healing glyphs regenerated the burns in seconds. He brushed at the dried blood, knocking off blackened scabs, and picked up a disguised blade from Greyhawk's corpse.
"Turns out the most dangerous guy in camp looked the least threatening. Too bad—chant was too slow. And your killing intent was too loud. Now..."
He turned.
In his eyes: Banbao, retreating fast at the forest's edge.
Allen smiled.
"I see you."
Next moment.
Banbao's head flew.
A crimson geyser burst from his neck. His body crumpled to its knees, two unused smoke bombs rolling from his fingers. The head spun, still stunned.
It started with the spell being cut. That alone shook him.
Greyhawk's death sealed it.
His brilliant tactics—obliterated.
Plan anew? With what soldiers?
One-on-one? Against Suijin Ryuu?
Allen had not only perfected his parry-style original technique—he could also wield Silent Blade no Kata.
A monster.
Undefeatable.
He tried to flee, reaching for his smoke bombs.
And died.
Never even used Silent Blade no Kata.
Kenjutsu Ryuu's killing style was nothing fancy.
Banbao's eyes lost their light.
Allen watched his torso and head fall.
His new blade pinned them down, carving a line between the neck and head.
Amid the sound of parting soil, his youthful voice declared:
"I severed it."
...
[Fusion of Hokushin Ryuu and Suijin Ryuu techniques achieved. Both levels increased.]
[Hokushin Ryuu: Advanced]
[Suijin Ryuu: Saint]
Smoke churned. Letters danced.
[Evaluation: The dragon's wrath set fire to the night. Before they could even whimper, the Fang Wolves were ash.]
Year 412 of the Dragon Calendar.
A midsummer night.
Allen became a Saint of Water.
...
"I remember Roxy's exact words were, 'Not even bones left of the Fang Wolves.'"
[But... there are lots of bones.]
Allen looked down at Banbao's dead face, scratching his chin.
"These bandits were tougher than I thought. James really sent this many just for me?"
"Something feels off... I wanted to capture someone for info, but Banbao was already pulling out smoke bombs. Had to use Silent Blade no Kata before he slipped away. If I tried to take him alive and failed... well, that'd be worse."
[Reasonable.]
The stench of burnt protein filled the air. Allen pinched his nose.
"Whatever. Even if there's more behind this, once I hit Royal Rank, James won't be able to touch me."
"Besides, he probably can't even confirm these guys were killed by me. Back at Red Dragon's Jaw, I only showed Water God Style. From what they know, I couldn't possibly wipe out this many alone in a night."
Smoke curled like laughter.
[But what if he does?]
Allen glanced at the scorched craters left by Hellfire. Where he once stood remained intact. But around it—dismembered limbs and thick blood.
The craters on either side were pitch black, with burning corpses. Those directly hit? No trace left.
Credit where it was due: Greyhawk and Banbao's tactic was sound.
Strong bandits rushed first, weaker ones lagged. If Allen was only upper-level Suijin Ryuu as expected, he would've died in the initial rush, or been slowed enough for Greyhawk to finish him.
If Allen were stronger, the wave of bodies would trap him long enough for Greyhawk to detonate them all.
But they hadn't expected him to unleash over ten Nijūzan strikes in a single breath.
They'd never even seen Nijūzan.
Allen had secretly learned it three years ago while visiting the North God Second—Alex Kalman Layback.
That guy had tried to recruit him so hard, Allen hid in the capital's bathhouses for half a month to escape, scrubbing backs to blend in. He had a plan to go to Buena Village. Distractions were dangerous.
He eyed his system panel and shrugged.
"Even if James suspects, he has no idea where I'm going. I never told anyone about Buena. To him, that's a blind spot."
"He might wait in Roa... but in two years, even if they spot me, odds are he'll have let his guard down."
[Fair enough.]
The smoke faded. Allen smiled and headed toward the burning craters.
Waving an arm.
Both styles leveled up.
Suijin to Saint? Expected.
But Kenjutsu feels more intuitive. Unreasonable, instinct-based. If you catch the rhythm, it explodes upward. I get why Ghislaine is such a freak now.
Hokushin advanced? Huh. That's odd.
I thought only the healing glyph let me hit this tier temporarily. And if temporary boosts don't count...
Wait. Could it be...
Allen threw his blade upward. Then collapsed forward.
Before his face hit the ground, he slammed both hands down.
The rebound force channeled Douki through his arms and core—
He twisted midair.
Landed perfectly.
Caught the falling sword.
Thanks to his Hokushin Ryuu fundamentals, just seeing the Four-Legged Stance once had given him insight.
Banbao's stance was just like a beast... some Kiba-ha techniques are legit. Never saw it used live in the capital—all Suijin Ryuu there.
Still clumsy, but that got me advanced rank? Is the bar low, or...
[Correct. Hokushin Ryuu's quality varies wildly. Some barely-skilled swordmen hold top ranks due to dirty tricks. You currently rank just 10% below the advanced average.]
Allen blinked.
"You can track that? Then how many advanced Hokushin Ryuu swordsmen are there worldwide?"
The smoke paused.
Then answered:
[3,340. Most are in adventurer circles or bandit gangs, especially around the Conflict Zone.]
"Makes sense. That's near the main dojo. What about Kenjutsu?"
[827. Mostly in the Sword Sanctum.]
"Reasonable. That town's small. And Sword God elites rarely roam. Still might bump into a few here... further south, they'll be rare. Water God Style?"
[4,732. It's the most widespread among nobles for elite bodyguards.]
"Checks out. North Saint stats?"
[Focus on your current level. Don't get ahead of yourself.]
"Okaaay."
Talking to himself, Allen reached the twin craters. His boots, once crisp from fire, soaked again in blood.
He sifted through piles of flesh with his new sword, digging through guts and gore.
Then scratched his head.
"Too many chunks... Can't find my old hilt. Shouldn't have sliced so fine."
He glanced at the still-burning pits.
"Forget it. Time to leave. This explosion was way too loud. If anyone shows up, I'm screwed."
As he spoke, Allen stiffened. He looked toward the edge of the woods.
The shadows moved.
Leaves rustled.
A figure emerged—careful, hesitant.
He recognized the boots.
Then the black stockings.
The hem of a mage robe.
A pair of braided, sky-blue pigtails.
Heaving chest.
Pale lips frozen in shock.
And those deep blue eyes.
Roxy stood there, breathless, covering her mouth, staring at him.
The night wind blew between them.
But it couldn't disperse the thick smell of blood and burning flesh.
(End of Chapter)
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