"Is that... a wild dog?"
Wild dogs. They were the kind of creatures that often appeared as mere grunt enemies even in Reunion, but in a pack, they were still menacing.
"Moejang. Should I draw my blade?"
"No. If our identities are exposed, the trackers might gain the upper hand in the pursuit."
"Then we're just going to brawl? That’s my specialty!"
Even the Sword Sect didn’t rely solely on swords. Lee Sang had been the same.
"On the battlefield, a dependable sword is crucial, but survival is paramount. In the Sword Sect, we value the blade, yet that does not mandate fighting with it exclusively. Some masters employ the bow as a support weapon; I myself have taken as many lives with non-sword tools as I have with the blade."
"Huh? Really?"
"Precisely. In that sense, you may have been born for this. At your age, before you ever held a sword, you were already brawling and honing your own skills."
That’s right. Brawls were my specialty. I’ve fought with anything I could get my hands on: wine bottles, sling stones, knives, and even makeshift clubs forged by nailing newspapers together.
"All right, let’s go!"
And crossbow bolts. Here, they fought with arrow tips.
Thwack!
"Ha. No sight to give you perspective now? You're dead."
I drove the arrowhead straight into the dog’s eye and followed through with a kick. It died instantly.
Grrr...!
"Oh? You think you’re strong just because you’re in a pack? You're far too confident."
I guess they still see me as nothing more than prey.
"Ah! A hunting knife! Perfect for a lesson!"
It was a knife meant for finishing off game or stripping hides, and it was surprisingly well-maintained.
It was too short for a proper sword, but more than enough to slice!
A blue sheen of arrogance—the belief that whatever one grips can be cleaved. The Sect’s sword methods revolved around thrusts, but I had no intention of stopping there.
The silver-and-blue blade buried itself into the black dog’s belly,
cleaving from the inside as if bursting it apart...
The blade severed the flesh, but it was the heart that it shattered. The knife, driven deep, scoured the organs as it tore through.
"Just burst and die."
The dog died leaving behind little more than its hide. I thought only tigers did that. Far from a clean job, the shattered pieces of the wild dog's corpse fell thud, thump to the ground, mixing with the dirt.
"What? Are you running away? I was just getting warmed up."
Ironically, most people would feel squeamish or disgusted, but I honestly didn't. Sure, I was pissed that my clothes were dirty, but otherwise, my mind felt clear.
"So this is how one survives..."
The rush when the blade slices. Along this edge, I performed a balancing act. Tip too far one way, and you become a beast killing for pleasure; tip the other, and you end up a mediocre swordsman.
"How does Moejang... oh, it’s a racial difference."
He crushed its skull with his bare hands? The Ursus... It reminded me that I, too, had unleashed ridiculous strength back then. How did I summon it?
"...What are you doing? Why are you punching me?"
"Practice. I'm trying to draw out the brute force I used to kill that monster."
Moejang was tough; even if he got hit, he wouldn’t die.
"If it’s practice, save it for later. For now, we move forward. Hunters aren't the kind to be dropped by a pack of wild dogs."
True enough. Even if no apex predators lurked nearby, the veteran hunters looked formidable. They wouldn’t be bested by mere wild dogs.
"Hold on, Moejang. Bend down. Interlace your fingers like this, pointing downward."
"I see your intent. We’ll launch on the count of three."
"Good. One, two... three!!"
The Ursus, like the Dracona or Wyvern, ranked among Terra’s strongest in terms of raw power. Lifting a child into the air was trivial for them.
He vaulted higher than the buildings, landing on a thatched roof. From there, he scanned the area and spotted a section billowing heavy smoke and faint voices.
"Inside, at three o'clock! There’s something over there!"
"Gunpowder fills the air. Let’s move."
Speed was my strong suit as well. I've run across rooftops like this countless times, looting offices and making my escape.
The smell of smoke... did something collapse?
Or was the one hunting them so powerful as to bring fire with him?
"Hey! Are you all right?! He’s still breathing! Snap out of it!"
It was the hunter from earlier. He had been beaten severely, as if struck by something massive. He was beyond saving unless there were healing Arts available.
"Cough... it’s a bull... a bull...!"
Bull? What did he mean by bull? Was a bull responsible for all this chaos?
"Hey kid! What are you doing there? Run! Or you’ll die!"
"But this person...!"
"He’s already dead! Run! The Mountain Spirit is on a rampage!"
I knew he was dead. What mattered was the information. I’ve killed many and seen many die, but I’ve never seen wounds like this. It was a scar incomparable to any baseball bat blow. Had he been in a vehicular accident?
"Hey, do you know anything? What’s a bull?"
"A bull! Yes, a bull—"
Crush!
The other hunter’s words were cut short. He was crushed to fragments underfoot. Only his left arm remained intact, thrown by the pressure of that single step and landing before me.
"...What is that...?"
It was roughly the size of the thing I had slashed before, but its body gleamed like polished brass. A bull, indeed.
"Is it looking this way?!"
A frontal fight with that thing was impossible. First, I needed to regroup with Moejang!
Rumble—!
"This is insane! A stone wall shatters like that?"
I kicked off a remnant wall and leapt onto the roof. The wall had been pulverized into dust.
The only way to beat something like that head-on was this.
The voice echoed inside me. Can you hear it? Will you help me now?
.........
So you think it’s not time to help yet, you bastard. Fine. I’ll handle this on my own!
Mooo—!
"What? The blade bounced off? Is this creature’s hide...?"
Not just looking like metal, but truly metallic in nature?
Ummmmm...!
A moment’s complacency, and it flicked me aside!
"Got it."
"Moejang!!! We’re fucked! Something stronger than that thing has appeared!"
"Confirmed. The blade won’t penetrate."
"Moejang’s blade?"
"No. Yours."
Oh, right. He was the commander—several tiers above me.
Ummmmm!!!
"Huh... It’s quite hefty."
"Unbelievable... you blocked that with raw power...?"
I knew he was strong, but that was a different league entirely...
Moooooooo!!!
"Quiet. First order: detach those horns."
Meursault’s blade was drawn, and a silver line blazed through the air like a brushstroke.
Thunk.
While my blade couldn’t breach its hide, his cleaved off the much denser, thicker horn as if it were tofu.
This was the strength of the Sword Sect commander…
A being I couldn’t even stand against right now.
"Watch closely. Someday, I intend to pass this technique on to you."
"A technique..? For me?"
"Given that you fight through self-destruction, you’ll likely wield it more effectively than I would."
The sword raised from low to high…
"Moejang?! Moejang!!!!"
What technique? He got hit dead center, no less!
"[Flesh Rend]..."
Huh? Why was Moejang still standing firm even after taking that hit?
Ummmmm—!!!!
The bull charged again, and Meursault drew his sword with precision. A blue aura of lethal intent flickered around him.
"This is [Yukcham Godan]. A technique that yields flesh and shaves bone. I will one day pass this technique on to you."
"[Yukcham Godan]..."
Could I achieve such a sword strike too...?
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