Chapter 79

Blades clashed against blades.

A marksman unable to draw a bow due to deep cuts in his hand and shoulder. A swordsman covered in wounds, unable to summon sword aura. Both were far from being in a normal state, and the injuries and blood loss they suffered were severe.

Drip-drop.

The wounds opened by their fierce movements. Blood spurted from those wounds. Normally, the sight of such battered individuals spilling blood in combat is either pitiful or unsightly. However, this fight between the two was different.

Clang, clang, clang!

The sound of blades clashing and scraping.

The noise, occurring several times per second, was not just spectacular but also elegant. Sparks flew as the metal collided, mixing with the blood.

Their feet tangled in a complicated dance.

Advancing one moment, retreating the next, and then suddenly darting to the side to strike from an angle. Both hunters, their eyes bloodshot with desperation to find each other’s weaknesses, were relentless.

Whoosh.

Najin swung his sword as he stamped his foot down. Despite blood spurting from a hole in his thigh at the moment of impact, his posture remained unshaken.

The longsword swung with swift precision.

Kapman angled his machete to deflect the longsword, letting it slide off the blade. Before becoming a ranger, Kapman was a soldier of the Empire, well-versed in Imperial Swordsmanship. He hadn’t used his sword much simply because sniping was more advantageous.

But Kapman was a ranger.

And Najin was close to being a Sword Expert, almost a Sword Seeker.

Though Najin might be outmatched in strength, he held the upper hand in swordsmanship. Having witnessed the pinnacle of swordsmanship by a Sword Saint, Najin could clearly see the flaws in Kapman’s technique.

If he could see them, there was no reason not to exploit them.

Najin’s sword, which had been sliding off Kapman’s machete, suddenly twirled, wrapping around Kapman’s blade. The change in the force and direction caught Kapman off guard.

Snap!

Though Kapman twisted his body in reaction, Najin’s sword still grazed his face. Splatters of blood made Kapman curse. Sword fighting was to be avoided.

Kapman created distance and threw a dagger. Cling, clang. Najin deflected the incoming dagger and in the moment he advanced, Kapman clashed his dagger and machete together.

Enchantment release, Bullet of Darkness.

The target was the blue dagger in Kapman’s hand.

The daggers that had been repelled behind Najin glowed a bright blue and then, with a bang, fired. Blue beams struck Najin’s back.

Ratatat!

Caught in a blind spot and at high speed, the Bullet of Darkness hit Najin. Although the spell was weak and didn’t penetrate Najin’s body, the impact was enough to disrupt his stance.

Najin staggered.

A hunter wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

Kapman advanced and swung his machete. As the blade aimed for Najin’s shoulder, Najin somehow moved his body. The forced movement, despite his stiffened muscles, made a ‘crack’ sound.

Najin barely managed to block the attack, but Kapman didn’t let go of the momentum. He relentlessly pressed Najin.

Refusing to fight in an advantageous domain for the opponent is the basics of combat. Kapman didn’t intend to give Najin a chance to use proper techniques. The ensuing fight was closer to a brawl than a duel.

Swinging swords one moment, kicking the next, elbowing the temple, striking with knees. Using swords, hands, feet freely, and occasionally throwing daggers to introduce unpredictability.

Najin wasn’t just passively receiving hits.

Despite his slowed reactions due to accumulated injuries, his eyes accurately followed Kapman’s movements. He absorbed hits that couldn’t be avoided, avoiding fatal wounds, and immediately countered.

Clutch.

Najin seized the momentum Kapman had grasped and turned it into his own. He had no intention of refusing a brawl if Kapman initiated it.

‘I’m not the only one confident here.’

Najin was confident in a dogfight too.

After all, wasn’t he fundamentally a hunting dog?

The moist air and darkness of the underground waterway reminded him of the Underground City Artman. Memories of the past, of days spent fighting for survival, of brawling with adults twice his size with bare hands, flashed through Najin’s mind.

A dogfight, then. Bring it on.

Will you bring me down first,

Or will I tear your throat out first?

That’s something we’ll find out by fighting it out.

As the dogfight continued, Kapman felt a sense of strangeness. Through the eyes of a soldier who had spent over 50 years on the battlefield, this situation made no sense.

‘How is he even moving?’

Kapman retreated, bewildered by Najin’s relentless assault. To Kapman, Najin seemed like a walking corpse.

Arrowheads embedded in the abdomen. Skin burned from explosions. Pierced sides and calves, with blood flowing freely from the wounds, and arrows still stuck in the back and shoulder, unremoved.

The numerous minor injuries were too many to count. With such injuries, dying from blood loss wouldn’t be surprising.

Of course, Kapman had seen soldiers drag a few more down with them even in near-death states. But even they didn’t flail for this long. At most, they lasted a few seconds.

But the opponent before him?

Those few seconds had long passed. Now, it was turning into minutes, yet he was still swinging his sword, seemingly even faster than before.

‘What in the world…’

Despite being stabbed, swept up in explosions, and kicked, he got up and charged again.

Doesn’t he feel pain? No, that doesn’t seem to be it. Kapman saw the blood seeping through the tightly clenched jaw muscles and teeth of Najin.

He was literally gritting his teeth and enduring. The sight of him closing the distance despite such injuries was enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

Kapman clicked his tongue in awe.

The thrill of battle. An extreme state of focus. Or perhaps, it could even be called immersion.

Clang!

Kapman blocked the sword just in front of him and locked eyes with Najin. The bloodshot eyes and pinpoint pupils were intimidating enough to overwhelm anyone who saw them. Kapman laughed incredulously.

Swoosh!

Najin’s sword finally nicked Kapman’s calf. Kapman felt his own condition gradually deteriorating. The number of wounds had increased. The bleeding was severe. Now, he too had to be cautious of blood loss.

A decision had to be made.

A variable had to be created, risking his life.

When was the last time he was cornered like this? It seemed to be the last time he carried out an assassination mission on a royal guard attempting to defect to another country…

The scenery of that time briefly crossed his mind.

Why was he thinking of that now? The reason was simple. The trump card he had used back then seemed applicable even in this moment. Recalling the operation from decades ago, Kapman made his move.

Clutch.

Kapman gripped a dagger. He slipped four daggers between his fingers all at once and struck them with the machete in his other hand. The four daggers shone brightly with a screeching sound.

Najin flinched at the sight.

Having been subjected to enchanted daggers several times, Najin was wary of what might come next, uncertain of the exact nature of the threat. Kapman had carried various enchanted daggers, each designed to trigger different responses.

The nature of an enchantment is such that its specific effect remains unknown until activated. While expert mages might deduce the spell from the inscriptions on the blade…

“He’s a swordsman.”

He wouldn’t have a deep understanding of magic. Likely, he’d prepare for one of the previously seen effects, making him already ensnared.

Enchantments were Kapman’s traps.

And Kapman had no intention of letting a prey caught in his trap escape. As the daggers glowed and the spells were about to be unleashed, Kapman threw two of them.

Enchantment release, Burst.

Right in front of Najin, explosions erupted with a deafening noise. Two explosions. Between the rising smoke, Najin’s figure emerged. It seemed he had reacted swiftly enough to minimize the damage, with only some soot marking his shoulder.

But two more daggers remained.

Kapman threw the last two daggers. As he released them, he closed his eyes.

Enchantment release, Flash.

Enchantment release, Resonance.

A blinding flash followed by a rending noise that shook the eardrums. The more skilled a warrior, the more they rely on their sharpened senses, often leaving them wide open. Against such individuals, these spells are akin to natural predators.

Spells that momentarily rob sight and hearing.

Among the daggers imbued with direct attack spells, these were hidden as a trump card to create variables. Even the renowned royal guard had fallen into this trap and met his end.

“You’ll be the same.”

Kapman opened his eyes, which he had preemptively closed. Though he couldn’t hear, he had maintained his vision. What Kapman saw as he swung his machete was…

Najin, with his eyes also open.

And, as if he already knew Kapman would come at him, Najin’s longsword extended straight towards him.

…How?

The question barely had time to form in his mind.

Thud.

Kapman’s body was pierced by the longsword.

Despite struggling to avoid it, he couldn’t evade the fatal blow. As his shoulder was impaled, Kapman’s stance crumbled.

The prolonged battle had reached its conclusion.

His stance collapsed. Kapman slipped on the blood-soaked ground and fell. One shoulder was deeply slashed, the other completely pierced through.

He was no longer in a condition to wield anything.

He might manage to throw a dagger if he tried, but regrettably, he had run out of enchanted blades. Kapman let out a hollow laugh.

“You’re a real madman.”

Unable to stand, he sat on the ground and looked up at Najin approaching him, sword dripping with blood.

He had lost.

The hunt had failed.

Kapman had no intention of begging pathetically for his life. If the roles were reversed, he would have scoffed at any plea for mercy. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

As if to say, strike if you’re going to.

But no matter how long he waited, the sword did not come down. Instead, there were sounds of uncorking and drinking. Lifting his head, Kapman saw Najin pouring a potion into his mouth.

“…What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why aren’t you killing me?”

“Killing is one thing but it seems we can wait a bit for that.”

Najin exhaled deeply.

Steam rose from his body. Kapman furrowed his brows. The superficial wounds, except for the penetrating ones, were healing rapidly.

Even the most expensive potions wouldn’t produce such dramatic effects.

The thought of a Homunculus crossed Kapman’s mind.

A forbidden technique in the Empire. Kapman recalled the bio-weapons created by the madmen of the Magic Tower but soon shook his head. A Homunculus wouldn’t engage in natural conversation like the young man before him.

Besides, hadn’t the Empire’s Sword Master personally hunted down and killed all Homunculi? The idea that any Homunculus could have survived the terrifying old man’s sword seemed unlikely.

“Are you delaying killing me to ask me something?”

“You catch on fast.”

“But you were aiming for my neck earlier.”

“If you died, you died. If you lived, I had questions.”

“That’s quite rational.”

The longsword still pointed at Kapman’s neck.

Kapman grimaced at the cold touch of the metal. With the sword still aimed at him, Najin spoke. It was a story Kapman had once told Najin.

“Even if you’re going to kill, you should at least hear how the person lived.”

“That’s quite the hobby.”

Is that your line to say?

Muttering so, Najin asked briefly.

“Did the Starlight Order send you?”