Chapter 129: In Search of a Scream (6)

Chapter 129: In Search of a Scream (6)

Claaaang! The fierce clang of metal reverberated across the cliff. The staggering Savior collapsed to the ground. The robed figure smirked.

“What are you?”

“Ugh...”

Three blades clashed, locked in a deadly dance. The Savior’s blood, once on the blades, now dripped rhythmically. Ronan gritted his teeth. The man only used his right hand to parry both Lamancha and Ymir.

“You don’t seem like someone from around here. Do you not know who we are?”

Ronan, on the other hand, could only hold on despite using all his strength. None of the adversaries he’d faced before compared to this.

‘He’s strong. Incredibly strong.’

It felt like facing a towering tower. But giving in wasn’t an option. Ronan, forcing a smirk, spat out.

“You’re a fucking traitor, I know that.”

“Hmm, did you see it from the start?”

Despite the daring provocation, the man remained unfazed, only intensifying his force against the sword. Ronan’s heel slid backward. The man let out a light sigh and spoke.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you live.”

Clang! In an instant, the man deflected Ronan’s sword and initiated a counterattack. A thrust akin to a shooting star rushed towards Ronan. Ronan’s eyes widened at the speed of the sword, which far exceeded his expectations.

‘What the fuck...!’

All he could do was follow with his eyes. The white tip of the sword was hurtling straight towards his neck.

Blocking or deflecting it was impossible. Swish! Ronan turned his head just as the blade grazed his neck. The man’s face contorted.

“...You dodged it?”

Ronan didn’t reply. He had no time to be sarcastic. He rotated his body in the direction he turned his head, swinging his sword. The man twisted his waist backward. Swoosh! The arc of his slash passed over the bridge of the man’s nose.

“Damn it.”

“A wild beast-like sword indeed. Are you truly human?”

The man stood facing Ronan. As Ronan lunged forward, sparks flew whenever Lamancha’s crimson blade touched the man’s body.

‘It’s out of reach.’

Ronan narrowed his gaze. Even the mana-enhanced strikes were either blocked or deflected. Blood trickled down from the wound on his neck, pooling near his collarbone. Tsk! Continuously evading, the man leaped backward. His voice, cold, echoed.

“I don’t know where you came from, but... I need to know your identity.”

Bang! In a split second, the man vanished from sight. Instead, shards of rocks flew from where he stood.

Ronan concentrated, inhaling deeply. The man’s form gradually appeared. Before he knew it, the man was rushing in front of him with his sword raised.

Thud! Dozens of meteors soared towards him. Realizing they were similar thrusts as before, Ronan cursed.

“You fuck...!”

Ronan urgently took a defensive stance. The attacks passed by licking all over my body. Swoosh! Before he could react, two stabs penetrated his abdomen and left shoulder.

“Argh!”

Dark red blood spurted from Ronan’s mouth. It might have seemed superficial, but it hurt terribly.

Clang! The tendon snapped, and Lamancha, held in his right hand, dropped. Ronan, who had analyzed the sword path, twisted his lips.

‘The Savior’s swordsmanship...!’

It was recognizable at first glance. It was the same technique that the Savior used. Although it was slightly different, it was safe to say that it was the same.

‘My true filthiness...’

Not only physically, but the gap in their skills was vast. At the moment the man swung his sword again to cut off Ronan’s leg. Swoosh! A huge hand came from out of their sight and grabbed the man.

“Ugh?!”

【■■! How dare you!!】

A terrifying voice echoed. Ronan, barely surviving, grabbed onto a nearby rock. The hand covered in pitch-black scales, was bigger than most barns.

Following the wrist, Ronan raised his gaze. A black dragon so large that it completely obscured his vision, was clutching the man. It was Alivriha, in his true form. He roared angrily.

【Why did you do this!】

“Alivriha. You also agreed, didn’t you?”

【Only to find a different path! How could you do something like this, stabbing the Savior in the back!!】

“I only took the power that would’ve been wasted otherwise.”

The man replied nonchalantly, his tone dry, devoid of emotions beyond watering a plant. Alivriha, erupting in anger again, slammed the man to the ground.

【You bastard!】

Kwaaah!! The ground flipped, and part of the cliff crumbled. Dust clouded the surroundings. Elysia, an elven woman, dashed out from behind Alivriha.

“S-Savior!”

“Keu... ugh...”

Supporting the Savior, Elysia’s eyes welled with tears. He was still breathing, but crimson blood gushed incessantly from where the blade had pierced his torso. She said while crying and trying to stop the bleeding from the wound.

“P-please, wake up. You... can’t leave.”

Her usual icy demeanor contrasted starkly. Tears flowed incessantly beneath her crimson eyes. Alivriha, glancing back at her and the Savior, growled.

【We must hurry. The wound caused by that bastard’s sword can’t be healed with ordinary means.】

“Yes, yes...!”

Elysia chanted, her voice trembling. Mana swirled, creating a grand magical circle in the sky.

Spit! Ronan spat. A lump of blood flew out and landed at the man’s feet. As the man inspected Ronan closely, he raised his eyebrow.

“Wait... now that I look at it, you seem a bit similar...”

“What?”

“Who is your mother?”

“What kind of bullshit question is that?”

Ronan frowned. The man came closer and grabbed hold of Ronan’s hair.

“Ugh!”

“Except for the hair color, you really do look alike. Hmm...”

“What?”

He began to examine Ronan’s face, holding his head close to his face. The distance was so close that their breath reached each other.

“This bastard... are you a faggot?”

“Stay still.”

However nonsensical it was, it felt disgustingly grimy. Ronan’s grip on Ymir tightened even more.

‘This might be my only chance.’

His heart raced. His rationality, once drowned in blood, was resurfacing. Dealing with someone seemingly impervious to provocations, he had to come up with a plan.

‘If that’s the way.’

A somewhat decent plan flashed through Ronan’s mind. No time to hesitate. Turning his gaze past the man’s shoulder, he spoke.

“Savior, you’re alive?”

“What...!”

The ploy worked. The momentarily startled man quickly turned his head. But there, only a burning landscape. existed.

Realizing the trick, the man glanced back at Ronan. Ymir, gleaming white, was soaring toward him.

“That power...”

The man, seeing the shimmering mana, froze in place. It was Varen’s Aura, amplifying Ronan’s strength.

“...You’re surprising me more and more.”

The man, speaking in a rounded tone, marveled. He felt much stronger than their initial clash. Gripping the hilt with both hands, he raised his sword. The two blades were about to meet when Ronan shouted.

“Fuck off!!”

Fwoosh! The remaining mana surged out like a torrent, empowering Ymir’s blade with an even brighter light. Kwaaaang! A shockwave erupted from Ymir’s edge. It was Bishop Teranil’s technique. The slash, accelerated dozens of times in an instant, deflected the man’s sword.

“What...!”

The man’s face stiffened. He tried to do something, but it was already too late.

The thrust shot straight across the man’s face, drawing a long line. Kwaaah! Blood gushed as the robe fell away. Overwhelmed by a hollow sensation traveling through his fingertips, Ronan cursed.

“Damn it.”

The ace in the sleeves was a failure. Having tilted his head back, the man straightened his neck. The previously obscured face of the man finally revealed itself. Ronan’s eyes widened.

“What...!”

“It hurts...”

A long gash traversed the bridge of the man’s nose. Not too deep, but enough to draw blood.

Panic-stricken, the man brought his hand to his face. Seeing blood smudging his fingers, he shouted in anger.

“You!”

The man swung his sword. But in Ronan’s shock-induced state, he couldn’t even evade. His gaze remained fixed on the man’s face.

His eyebrows and closely-set pupils emitted a crimson hue akin to a sunset. His jawline was as sharp as a razor.

Whoosh... A gust tousled the man’s hair. The snowy-white locks, reminiscent of a snowy plain, sparkled in the light.

Apart from the hair color, the face was surprisingly similar to his own. Suddenly, a sharp sensation passed through Ronan’s neck.

‘...What?’

The world turned upside down, pain like a flash of lightning struck Ronan. Amidst the chaos, Ronan’s mind was filled with the man’s face. His vision darkened, consciousness slipping away.

****

“Ugh.”

Ronan opened his eyes. The worn-out wooden ceiling felt familiar. Still groggy, it took him a moment to regain his senses. Ronan put his hand around his neck and sighed.

“Did I... lose?”

There were no wounds, but his senses were sharp. As he slowly got up, the humble interior of a farmhouse revealed itself. It didn’t take long for him to realize this was his house in his hometown, Nimberton’s. Suddenly, a voice came from behind.

“Enjoy your journey?”

Ronan turned his head. An amorphous shadow sat at the table, seemingly drinking tea, although it was unclear where his mouth was, he was drinking nonetheless. Ronan trudged over and sat down in front.

“What did you show me?”

“I merely recreated the past.”

“Did the Savior really die?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know.”

The shadow shook his head. It seemed uninterested in revealing more. After a long silence, Ronan spoke up.

“Is the Leader my father?”