Episode 23: Red Star (1)
Just before the blades reached me, I twisted my wrist. A long, concealed blade slid from my wrist guard, glinting with metallic sheen.
‘Eight of them. Were they already on standby when I leaked my killing intent?’
Against a great demonic beast, dodging was tough, so you parried or deflected. But with regular demonic beasts or monsters, evasion was more efficient.
With only one sword against multiple foes, blocking every attack wasn’t feasible. This was a habit honed on the front lines.
Guided by near-prescient instincts, I struck at untouchable angles, weaving attacks through gaps in my movements.
Every blade narrowly missed me, so naturally it seemed almost intentional.
“How…?!”
An enemy gasped, stunned by my evasion.
My blade sank into his jaw. Flesh tore as I spun him by the head, then yanked the blade free, tossing the corpse backward.
Two enemies aiming for my back stumbled over the body. Seizing the moment, I leaned back, tilting my body.
Twisting my limbs, I cut through the air, slipping between blades.
Four blades overlapped in a single motion but failed to connect.
Pushing my torso to its limit, I continued with near-acrobatic precision.
I dove fearlessly into the gaps between foes, thrusting my limbs into a storm of blades and killing intent.
In normal circumstances, such movements would’ve been fatal.
Yet every attack missed me by mere inches—an almost divine sense of distance control.
This was the result of fighting, bleeding, and killing alongside beasts.
‘The building can’t collapse.’
Large-scale techniques were out of the question.
The dark Wave was my easiest option, but it was hard to control.
For now, unifying it into a single trajectory was the best approach. Even smaller Waves required caution.
Officially, only northerners used the Wave technique, as I’d spread it there.
It hadn’t reached the central continent or beyond. If someone recognized its traces, I risked exposing my actions. I couldn’t let that happen.
I lunged forward, closing in on an enemy and thrusting my blade.
My extended foot struck their knee. The blade grazed their body, severing both arms.
I charged, using their body as a shield against incoming attacks, stabbing through gaps.
Solar plexus. Thigh. Ribs.
I targeted vital points with precision. As I dispatched three more, a familiar voice cut through.
“I’ll leave this side to you, master. Esren Park is escaping that way,” Astier said.
No need to reply. I severed the next assassin’s wrist, snatching their dagger. With it, I pierced the throat of a guard aiming for my back.
Using the gushing blood as lubricant, I accelerated again.
Charging past a vertically split corpse, I drove my blade through the nearest enemy’s skull before their entrails hit the ground.
I shattered another’s knee, kicking a guard into the wall. Deflecting an incoming strike, I redirected it and thrust again.
Acrid black smoke and flames surged. The host, caught in the blast, barely regained their senses and fled.
I grabbed a fleeing enemy’s hair, beheading them. Nearly done.
As I moved to regroup with Astier, a figure plummeted from the balcony.
A massive impact cratered the seats and floor, followed by a cloud of dust.
A hulking figure rose from the haze and spoke.
“Impressive skills. Where’re you from?”
The dust cleared, revealing a bald man, shirtless, with a massive tattoo on his left chest. His abnormally swollen muscles bulged.
“No Aura, yet that strength. You’ve undergone the procedure too, haven’t you?”
‘Procedure?’
I could guess what he meant. The procedure likely enhanced physical abilities.
The problem was, despite knowing the game and its lore, I had no clue what this “procedure” was.
‘The only possibility is the southern bio-experiments.’
In this world, that was the only thing that could be called a procedure.
The southern kingdoms’ alliance conducted bio-experiments to surpass Aura techniques, resulting in the creation of the monster Lionel Bel.
A possibility struck me. If the bio-experiments succeeded and were distributed as a “procedure,” Lionel Bel might not be the only success. The reason for this deviation wasn’t hard to deduce.
Beast transformation, inherent to demonic energy, had vanished.
If so, implanting artificial Aura cores might be possible.
But even if the experiments succeeded, my task remained unchanged.
Perhaps misinterpreting my silence, the giant smirked.
“Not talking? Fine. I’ll rip you apart and find out. I’ve got a hunch anyway.”
His eyes narrowed, sharp as if piercing my weaknesses.
“Your dagger skills and evasion—movements only an assassin trained from childhood could pull off.”
‘What’s he talking about?’
For eleven years, I’d only wielded a sword. The wrist dagger? I’d practiced it maybe twice a week ago. Curious about his conclusion, I let him ramble.
“You’re from a southern lab, aren’t you? But your moves are strictly for human targets. Me? I’m different.”
He continued,
“I’ve killed countless demonic beasts and monsters in the north. I’ve slain high-tier demonic beasts and earned the Iron Blood Medal. A mere assassin can’t beat me!”
The giant charged, the ground erupting beneath his feet.
He swung his knuckle-clad fists wildly, tearing the air with summoned Aura.
Faint but unmistakable, it shimmered around his strikes.
Flanking him, guards and assassins rushed in, aiming poisoned needles at my blind spots.
I severed their arms, snatched a needle, and drove it into an assassin’s collarbone.
Kicking the frothing, dying assassin toward the giant, their spine shattered under his fist.
A brief silence followed.
I widened the distance, deliberately limping as I spoke.
“A northern front veteran playing guard dog here?”
“…A southern mutt dares?”
“Seems you’re finally listening.”
“What nonsense—”
As he lunged again, he staggered, noticing a poisoned needle in his thigh.
While kicking the assassin, I’d thrown the needle I’d taken into his collarbone at him.
“…!!”
Killing countless demonic beasts didn’t make him one.
Demonic Beasts were immune to poison, but humans weren’t—even those trained in Aura techniques. Poison just took longer to affect them.
No matter how many high-tier demonic beasts he’d slain, the fact remained.
Believing humans could transcend their limits was a delusion.
Killing the first demonic beast didn’t grant me levels or transcendence. I was still human, with clear limits.
Twisting my wrist, I drew the wrist guard’s blade.
Made of cheap iron, it was already notched.
The giant opened his mouth to speak but collapsed limply.
I drove the blade into his nape, severing his spine.
Thud.
His massive body hit the ground, shaking the floor and raising dust.
He didn’t even scream—a pathetic end for someone boasting an Iron Blood Medal.
Before I could catch my breath, Astier’s signal rang out—a clear bell chime, prearranged and faint but enough for me. I sprinted toward the sound.
In a long corridor, Astier stood, face bloodied, breathing heavily, limping on one leg.
“…I’m sorry. I lost him,” she said.
“Where’d he go?”
“East corridor, toward the emergency exit.”
I nodded and launched myself in that direction, circulating Aura to boost my physical abilities.
At the end of the narrow hallway, a figure in a blood-stained coat fled rapidly.
Esren Park.
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I really like how the fights are done in this novel
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