Chapter 253: The Technique of Combat (2)

The Sword Master and Changseong couldn’t help but be surprised.

Rumble, rumble.

The ground shook violently, and the gray sky rumbled. Both men barely managed to stay upright, clinging to the quaking earth beneath their feet. They were lucky.

Some heroes weren’t as fortunate. Crack— the ground opened like a crocodile’s jaws and swallowed them whole. Their screams echoed briefly from the depths before fading away.

An earthquake.

They had considered the possibility. The enemy was in a state of full power. Besides, Fermush, the Fourth Corp Commander, was a “Walking Calamity” type threat. They were fully aware of that.

‘But I didn’t think he’d unleash magic of this caliber the moment he appeared.’

That wasn’t what shocked them.

What truly unsettled them was Fermush’s appearance.

“A… girl?”

Pale skin. Ash-gray bobbed hair. Purple eyes. A body so small she barely reached Changseong’s waist. At most, she looked like a twelve-year-old girl, smiling sweetly at them.

But after a few seconds, Changseong frowned and clenched his teeth. He could say it without a doubt—this seemingly harmless being was the most dangerous presence on the battlefield.

“Ha.”

Fermush stroked one cheek while watching them with interest.

“So, you two were the ones who eliminated Basmon.”

Her tone was odd. Though she had a little girl’s face, she spoke like a sovereign looking down on the world with disdain.

“Life has been cruel to you humans. For us demons, only a moment has passed. But you… you’ve withered.”

“……”

“I’ll ask you something.”

Her mocking tone persisted. Though the ground continued to quake, her voice reached them clearly.

“Why do you resist? Don’t you know it’s useless? Or perhaps, after killing three of my siblings, you think nothing can stop you?”

Fermush walked lightly, hands behind her back. The golems to either side stepped aside to let her pass. Two in particular—giant stone statue-like figures—escorted her like personal guards.

“Basmon was mediocre. If not for Lord Kuarne’s orders, he wouldn’t even have been considered an equal. But Agor and Vesna… they were true siblings.”

As she walked, she picked up some stones and began to roll them between her fingers like marbles.

“If they’d been at full strength, half of humanity would already be gone. But they were impatient. They let their guard down. That’s why they were killed by human insects.”

Fermush placed a stone between her thumb and index finger, as if to flick it, and smirked.

“I won’t make that mistake. I won’t lower my guard. From the start, I’ll fight with all my strength.”

BOOM!

An explosion that no one would expect from a simple pebble.

Flicked lightly, the stone became a projectile, flying at them like a cannonball.

If it hit, even their trained bodies would burst like water balloons. Dodging it was impossible due to the speed. There was only one option block it.

The Sword Master and Changseong moved their weapons in unison. They exchanged no words or glances, but their movements were perfectly coordinated.

The Sword Master sliced the first stone in two. Tack, tack, tack— Fermush hurled another, and another. Human movements always have blind spots. Even more so for the Sword Master, who had only one arm. Every movement required immense effort.

If he were alone, he wouldn’t have succeeded.

Changseong deflected the second stone with his spear. Even so, his hand throbbed with pain, nearly numb. But he couldn’t stop.

He spun the shaft of his spear like a windmill. Using centrifugal force, he deflected the third and fourth stones directly. Only with a spear could that be done.

After all, a spear’s secret lies not in attacking, but in defense.

“Nibelung!”

He hadn’t even finished shouting when the Sword Master shot forward. Golems blocked the way like a wall. They were tough as stone, impossible to cut even with aura.

‘In that case…’

A golem is just a clay puppet. It must have joints—shoulders, torso, knees, legs—those were the weak points.

‘Don’t strike at surfaces. Hit the lines. No, better yet—aim for the points.’

A demonic beast lunged. The Sword Master closed his eyes. Time seemed to slow. In that meditative instant, his life replayed in his mind.

A life of wounds and pain. He had lost the arm that was his treasure as a swordsman—and his family, which had been half his soul.

Even so, he never gave up. He only did what he knew best wield his sword and overcome the impossible.

And now, the same.

An enemy he couldn’t beat alone. He wasn’t even sure he could wound it.

Fermush mocked them, but she was serious. It was like an ant fighting an elephant. The gap was vast. There was no chance of victory. He would die.

‘But…’

So what?

‘My true master.’

This was a man who had devoted his entire life to the sword.

‘The light that showed me the path in life.’

And without further thought, he simply advanced with his drawn blade. As he had always done.

‘Until the end.’

The Sword Master half-closed his eyes. A golden aura bloomed. His snow-white hair floated as if lifted by static.

‘Guide me.’

He opened his eyes—eyes that barely opened before. The golems swarmed, closing in like bees. Heaven and earth raged in storm, and the commander remained unmoved. Everything was the same. But in the Sword Master’s vision, a new world unfolded.

“I can see it.”

Barely visible red lines.

One on each creature. In his pupils, those lines appeared.

Blurrier than Kang Geom-Ma’s, but unmistakably cutting lines. The unique fruit of a lifetime, a drop of genius and effort concentrated. Right now.

His body moved as if pushed by something invisible. His arm traced a soft arc. The sword slid forward. A flicker of light shone on the blade. His technique brushed the golem’s rough surface, tracing a clean crescent moon—a single continuous line.

Dozens of golems collapsed, sliced diagonally like bamboo stalks.

“Nibelung, could it be…?”

Changseong blinked, still spinning his spear with agility.

The Sword Master instinctively shook off his blade. His half-closed golden eyes locked onto Fermush. In that gaze burned an intensity that made one dizzy.

“An Awakening.”

Changseong muttered. That’s what it was. The awakening of the blessing. At this moment, the Sword Master was equal to his ancestor, the first Sword Master, Aaron Nibelung.

“Hahaha!”

Changseong burst out laughing. Amid the dust, his white teeth gleamed.

“Go ahead, Nibelung.”

He looked at his comrade’s back. A fellow graduate of the Joaquin Academy. They’d started from the same place, but now his old friend had crossed to a higher plane. He paid his respects in his own way.

“I’ll follow.”

At that moment, the Top and Mid units arrived just behind Changseong. When they tried to advance, he held out his arm to stop them.

“Your task now is to reduce the number of golems as much as possible while buying time until Kang Geom-Ma intervenes.”

“What about the Sword Master?”

“Don’t worry about Nibelung.”

With a smile on his lips, Changseong nodded toward him. A subordinate’s eyes widened as he followed the gaze.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Exactly. And tell the rest of the heroes—”

Changseong said with a laugh.

“If they don’t want to lose their heads to a sword, they’d best stay clear.”

***

Fermush twisted her lips.

“Humans, as always.”

She bit her lips in silence. Besides Kang Geom-Ma, now another one was starting to irritate her.

“You two, deal with that swordsman.”

She gestured with her chin to the golems shaped like Buddhist statues on either side. Nodding, the two stepped forward.

They were special golems, created from the lives of a hundred heroes each. In other words, each one possessed the combat power of a hundred heroes.

Rumble, rumble!

The ground trembled again beneath their steps. The Swordmaster lightly tapped the ground with the tip of his sword and jumped immediately. Like lightning, he appeared between the two golems.

Thud.

Not even a surprise attack fazed them. They were golems—emotionless, without judgment, obedient only to orders.

“….”

“….”

Both their shins lifted to kick him. The dust swirled violently. A single blow from those could crush a building like a tin can.

They tilted their heads. They felt no impact. Their legs remained raised in the air. Their expressionless faces seemed to ask, “Where is he?”

They raised their chins. Chunks of earth crumbled from their necks with the sudden movement.

The sky.

There stood the Swordmaster. Balancing on the blade of his sword as he descended. He was using the sword-riding technique of the “Sword upon Victory” style.

“Forgive me.”

He spoke with sorrowful eyes. These were golems born from the absorption of a hundred lives each. They were enemies, yes—but at their core, they were once innocent heroes.

“May you rest in peace.”

He slid down the sword and dropped. In the moment he drew near, the two golems crossed their arms to shield their faces. But the blade slipped through the one exposed gap and pierced through the head of one.

The other dropped its guard and lashed out with a punch like a whip—an inhuman motion. Golems could dislocate their joints at will.

The Swordmaster slightly shifted his right shoulder. The strike grazed just past his abdomen.

He struck with his palm like a martial arts master. Though the golem was massive, it lost its balance and toppled backward.

Swish!

The sword came down vertically toward its face. The golem rolled, twisting its torso to the side, and just as it tried to spring back up using its waist, a swift sword cleaved through its neck from above.

The head fell to the ground and shattered like pottery. The Swordmaster saw the shattered face in the fragments.

Finally—an expression of peace, as though they had found rest.

With solemn respect, he stepped down and moved on. He slashed without mercy through the golems, even knowing they contained the souls of heroes. In fact, he showed no hesitation. He wanted to free them as quickly as possible from their earthen shells. And now, he had the power to do so. His sword cut across sky and earth, driving back the enemy.

“Hmmm.”

Fermush simply watched the scene calmly. The initial surprise had already faded.

She laughed. Then clutched her stomach and let out a sharp cackle. The heroes, busy fighting the golems, turned to her.

“How amusing, how amusing. Brings back memories.”

She wiped the corner of her eyes. But not a single tear fell.

“I almost died once too, trusting myself against other Awakened. And my sisters who descended to the human world—they also died because they let their guard down. Though they still hadn’t mastered the blessing, so I can’t say they were exactly like the Seven.”

She brought her small hands together in front of her chest in a solemn gesture.

“I said it before, didn’t I? I’ll go all out from the start.”

She exhaled a soft breath. The wind reversed; the trembling ground fell silent. The sudden calm made the heroes all the more uneasy.

Then, her small lips opened.

「Ksitigarbha Who Walks Backward to Kill」

A roar unlike anything before distorted space itself. The dust vanished as if blown away by a great current. The ground didn’t just tremble—it rippled like water.

Rumble, rumble!

The heroes dropped their weapons. Heads thrown back, they blinked in confusion. A colossus had risen amid the chaos.

「Thousand-Hand Death Strike」

A statue seated in lotus position, with a thousand pairs of arms fanned out behind it, looked down on them from above. Its size cast a shadow over the entire area like a black storm cloud.

“Destroy them.”

Fermush leapt and landed gently atop the giant’s head.

“Leave no one behind.”

She smiled sweetly and raised a single finger.