Chapter 215 – Omen of Crisis (4)

A human fell from the clear sky.

A young man with black hair and black eyes. The elder dark elf recognized him instantly.

The elder began to tremble.

“Ba-Ba-Balor Joaquin! H-How is it possible that you’re still alive?! And even younger!”

Balor Joaquin was a name wrapped in legend even in the Demon Realm.

A transcendent being who had defeated the First Corps Commander, Lycan, centuries ago before vanishing from the world.

The few demons who had locked eyes with his black gaze rarely survived.

And if they did survive, they never remained sane. Trembling and convulsing, they would all say.

‘Avoid the human with black eyes… He’s not human… nor demon… He’s a god… a black god!’

The current elder of the dark elves, Rog, had spoken those words 700 years ago with crazed, bloodshot eyes. Rog survived only because Balor Joaquin, on a whim of mercy, spared his life.

Rather, he had begged for it.

He even swore never to approach humans again.

Centuries passed. And deep in the elder’s heart, the dark desires he had once repressed began to boil again. Thus, the dark elves reappeared before humanity.

However…

Rog’s bluish face turned even paler, like a standing corpse. His aide hurriedly whispered in his ear.

“Elder, with all due respect, that’s not the hero from the ancient times. That’s the young man who recently rose as one of the Seven Stars.”

“Ah?”

“He’s known as the Heavenly Sword. He’s the one who killed two Corps Commanders.”

A flicker of hope lit up in the elder’s murky eyes. The aide leaned in closer, trying to reassure him.

“There’s no need to be so afraid, Elder. Although he defeated two Corps Commanders, both were already unstable. Besides, we’re near the Gate of Gehenna, and our numbers far outweigh theirs. The only concern is…”

The aide looked up.

A shadow spinning slowly in the sky began to grow larger. When everyone could see it clearly, the creature landed.

Boom.

A thick cloud of dust engulfed the area. When it cleared, Horn, in her human form, stood next to Kang Geom-Ma.

Director Sung, jaw dropping, asked.

“S-Sir Kang Geom-Ma… This girl… don’t tell me she’s a… d-dragon?”

“Yes, well. I’ll explain that calmly later.”

Kang Geom-Ma scratched his eyebrow and turned toward the Swordmaster.

“Swordmaster, please take charge of the rear. There are about fifty of them, but with this girl’s help, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

The Swordmaster was still stunned.

Fighting alongside a dragon wasn’t something that happened every day. However, Kang Geom-Ma’s calm gaze conveyed pure confidence.

‘Is he telling me to trust him?’ (Here the Swordmaster doesn’t know the genre of Horn.)

The Swordmaster nodded firmly.

“Alright. I’ll protect the rear. You take the front.”

“Thanks.”

Kang Geom-Ma turned to Horn.

“Horn, assist the Swordmaster. And if you get the chance, use your magic to protect our people too. Think you can do it? If you do well, I’ll treat you to triple-grade beef, not just double.”

Horn nodded so hard that she sprayed a little spit in excitement.

“Yes!”

Kang Geom-Ma smiled broadly.

Then he fully unsheathed his sashimi knife.

“Kill him!”

The dark elf aide shouted.

Slash!

But before he could finish his shout, blue blood burst from his throat.

He fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

The Daiso sashimi knife pierced through his Adam’s apple. Instant death. He was the tribe’s best warrior and died because of a 3,000-won knife.

“……!”

Kang Geom-Ma took a step forward, spinning both sashimi knives into a reverse grip, and said.

“I realized something today.”

His voice was icy and resonant.

“I definitely prefer acting first and talking later.”

A fierce grin twisted his face.

Both Murasame and Eternal Frost — his swords — seemed to flash alongside him, smiling under the light.

***

Footsteps were heard. Light footsteps, as if someone were merely strolling, but they soon turned into a melody of death.

“Kyaaahhh!”

An elf let out a high-pitched scream. Kang Geom-Ma suddenly stabbed her with his sashimi knife. The blade protruded from the back of her neck and was then yanked out.

“Gurggh…”

The elf moaned, her eyes rolling upward, showing only the whites.

“Damn it, I can’t see him!”

A nearby elf shouted in desperation. Although he frantically darted his gaze around, the human had already vanished.

Just a moment ago, he had been right there. Where the hell had he gone? That fleeting doubt meant life or death, but before he could find an answer, a blade pierced his temple.

Squelch.

The half-buried sashimi knife pierced through his skull and exited. The elf died without even realizing he had been killed.

“Form ranks and fire! Those with wands, unleash magic nonstop!”

The elven leader shouted, veins bulging in his neck.

“F-Fire arrows! Now!”

Amidst the chaos, the elves barely managed to organize themselves to launch a volley of arrows.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Enchanted arrows shot through the air at tremendous speed. Each arrow multiplied through illusions, creating a real storm of projectiles.

It was like a torrential downpour of arrows. Kang Geom-Ma smiled faintly.

“It’s always the same. Ranged attackers try to restrict my movement. The Fifth Corps Commander did it. The Third Corps Commander did it.”

The sky darkened as if an eclipse had occurred.

“But do you really think some lowly elves can hit me?”

Kang Geom-Ma stomped alternately with his right and left foot. Darkness fell over him, merging with his shadow.

Under the blackened sky, a black human figure stood. Kang Geom-Ma inhaled a breath of icy air.

Swish!

The blades gleamed. He cut through the rain of arrows. His sashimi knife moved so fast that it left twenty silver trails with each swing.

The arrows shattered like twigs. Not a single one touched his skin; they veered off in all directions. A circular barrier formed around him.

His black eyes tracked every arrow.

‘There are a lot of arrows.’

He moved his two sashimi knives, slicing through the magical threads of the arrows.

‘But if I cut the magic, they’re nothing but toys.’

The magic dissipated, and the arrows crumbled.

“W-What…?!”

The elven leader realized too late. Something was terribly wrong. He ordered the ranged attack to cease, drew his sword, and charged forward.

“I, Gremfield, right hand of Elder Rog, will avenge my fallen brother—grk!”

Daiso’s sashimi knife pierced his mouth mid-speech.

“A… demon…”

The dark elf’s final polite words. Generous as ever, Kang Geom-Ma hurled another sashimi knife at him.

The new blade pushed out the old one from his throat.

Gremfield, a superior warrior, was dead. The price of his life: 6,000 won—double that of his brother’s.

The elves froze like statues. The air turned frigid.

Kang Geom-Ma shook his messy hair and spoke, staring directly at Elder Rog.

“Not coming?”

The elder raised his trembling index finger like a leaf in the wind.

“Y-You… How can you wield the same power as Balor Joaquin while being someone else?”

“Because I’m his disciple.”

“W-What?”

Kang Geom-Ma smiled. His black pupils gleamed with bloodlust and madness.

“Well then. If you won’t come, just wait. I’ll come to you.”

Kang Geom-Ma dug another furrow into the ground with his foot.

“Dieeeeee!”

The elves, driven by inertia and fear, rushed at him. Kang Geom-Ma spun his sashimi knife.

With a single slash, he cut diagonally through an entire line of them like slicing bamboo. The screams of ten elves echoed.

Five elves attempted to counterattack, dropping their bows and drawing their swords. A wise choice. But they couldn’t even fully draw their blades.

Before they could act, blue lines of blood appeared across their arms and legs. They collapsed, and their collarbones shattered in an instant. The five of them died.

The elves at the rear began chanting spells. Kang Geom-Ma reacted instantly.

He activated the Blessing of Strength, moving at explosive speed.

Snap!

Kang Geom-Ma leaped and landed in the middle of the enemy formation. The elves barely had time to look at him before they lost their vision.

Shink!

Six elves fell dead.

Kang Geom-Ma wiped the blood from his blades onto his pants. He smeared his bloodied hand across the corner of his lips, then charged once more.

“Elder, help us…!”

The elves fled in desperation.

But the sashimi knives rained down on their backs like swallows diving into a pond.

Slash!

Numerical advantage was useless. Of about fifty elves, half had already fallen to one man. And the number kept dropping.

Slash!

As the elves continued to fall, Elder Rog lowered his head. The ground was soaked with thick blood.

“Heeheehee…”

The elder clutched his belly and laughed.

“So it’s true… Balor Joaquin and Lycan joined forces, and now I see the result with my own eyes.”

Laughing, he shouted toward the Swordmaster fighting in the distance.

“O descendant of Nibelung! Even if the dark elves go extinct today, remember this! That cursed sword will not distinguish between demon and human!”

The Swordmaster half-turned to glance at Kang Geom-Ma. His gray eyebrows furrowed.

‘Kang Geom-Ma…’

Kang Geom-Ma was slaughtering the elves. Though victory was already assured, his blade continued its bloody pursuit.

‘If this continues… he’ll lose control.’

It was said that when he fought the Third Corps Commander, Vesna, his hair turned white—his “awakening.” And now, the tips of his hair were already beginning to turn white.

‘But Kang Geom-Ma’s awakening is different.’

It was far more extreme. His sashimi knives endlessly thirsted for blood.

‘If we don’t stop him, those blades won’t distinguish between friend and foe.’

Yet approaching him was dangerous.

Even though the battle had been made easier by Horn’s magic, a careless move could still be fatal.

‘I have to move in at just the right moment.’

There weren’t many elves left standing. The few survivors could barely move.

Some whimpered, some crawled, others muttered final spells.

All of them… ended up dead.

“Haa…”

Kang Geom-Ma closed his eyes. His eyelids felt heavy, and his nose burned with the metallic stench.

He slowly opened his eyes and began walking.

Step. Step.

Each step pushed aside bloody bones and remains as if they were pebbles.

Step by step, his black hair gradually returned.

Step.

Kang Geom-Ma stood before Elder Rog.

The elder, covering his forehead, let out a nervous laugh. His forehead was drenched in sweat.

Kang Geom-Ma watched him silently and spoke.

“I know you’re still conscious.”

“…….”

The laughter faded.