When he was only five years old, he had told his father, who was giving him a piggyback ride:
That time, when he was innocent and still full of dreams. He had certainly set "her" as his goal.
“You were worried that I would turn out this way, weren’t you? As expected, you were a wise person.”
At this age, he finally understood his father's teachings.
He smiled brightly, like an adult recalling his childhood, and hummed a little tune.
“You knew, didn't you? You knew I might break. After all, my creativity and financial skills seem to be blessings I received from you. Thank you, Father.”
He looked up at the sky, expressing his gratitude and respect for his father, who had passed away long ago, and spoke aloud.
“Do you remember, Mother? Father loved days like this. Clear skies, with stars and moonlight shining brightly.”
“......”
“Haha, you’re not going to answer me?”
“... My son doesn't laugh like that.”
“Did you really have the intelligence to understand that difference? I’m just learning this now, haha!”
“You arrogant...!”
Swish!
Felicia’s anger flared up, and with a wave of her energy, the air itself seemed to be slashed by a cold, sharp sword.
It seemed as though she could cut down anything in an instant, and the rage of the swordswoman was terrifying. However...!
He immediately saw through the facade of Felicia's angry emotions.
“To a swordsman, that’s a fatal flaw.”
Indeed, for superhumans, rejuvenation was more of a misfortune than a blessing.
Why?
Felicia’s rage erupted, and in an instant, countless swords appeared around her.
Dozens, no, hundreds of swords soared into the sky, and they moved as if they were a meteor shower.
The swords rained down.
“Ugh!”
In a moment of peril, his life hanging by a thread, the man swung his sword.
Weakly.
But the next moment, the sword that Iliad unsheathed...
He sliced through the meteor shower.
***
It was easy to subdue the swordsmen who had started the rebellion.
Clink...
Many had seen Gardin, the center of the rebellion, surrender without even drawing his sword, and [N O V E L I G H T] having witnessed Ihan's overwhelming combat abilities that even surpassed the legendary vampire, their will to fight was broken.
The following process was simple.
The imprisoned swordsmen of Offen were released, the half-breeds were subdued or re-imprisoned, and those who tried to escape were caught as a pursuit team was quickly formed. The situation was essentially settled, though it was not an exaggeration to say that it was over...
"Hmm..."
Arno, who had been pondering Ihan's question for a moment, was making his best guess about their whereabouts.
Even after such a huge commotion, the family heads were still missing.
Though there were no signs anywhere, it could be presumed they weren’t around this area...
The culprit who had flown from the Monster Forest was, in fact, him.
However, no trace of the swordmaster could be felt, which made the statement puzzling.
Ihan understood the existence of this technique, especially considering the part about concealing one’s power and minimizing surrounding damage.
It was true that a person with such aura abilities could wreak havoc without any regard for the consequences.
A technique like this wouldn’t be out of place.
Arno was slightly flustered by the term “woman” used for his grandmother, but Ihan didn’t have the mental energy to consider his manners at the moment.
That was understandable.
Ihan and Derrick shared an unspoken conversation with nothing but a look.
It wasn’t because they were particularly close, but simply because they were aligned in their thoughts.
Derrick had once said, "Iliad was someone who had to die."
With that statement being true, it was only natural that a sense of foreboding filled the air.
Just as a bit of nervousness began to creep in...
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
A strong worker, or rather a foreign exchange student from the Bavarian tribe, who had been helping with the cleanup, suddenly rushed over saying he had something to share.
Curious about what he had to say, Ihan turned his attention to him, and the man pointed towards the direction of the forest with his finger.
Someone might not understand this strange remark, but Ihan, who had spent almost a year with his disciple, was not foolish or indifferent enough to misunderstand him.
In particular, the "white-feathered serpent" was likely a land deity worshiped by the Bavarian tribe, who lived in a mysterious forest far from civilization.
It was similar to the Black King of the North.
In other words, the white-feathered serpent was a transcendent being, comparable to an aura user, and Kunta’s remark about feeling a similar presence was credible.
Although one could argue how could Ihan, who didn’t feel anything, be able to sense it, the answer lay in...
Their senses were likely powered by forces beyond Ihan's exceptional five senses, making it something he could never match.
Therefore...
Ihan had no hesitation in relying on his disciple.
Rather, he expressed unreserved trust.
***
"This way!"
Kunta, despite clearly being unfamiliar with this forest, chose his path without hesitation, as if it were his own home.
It was instinct alone that guided him, and any professional guide who saw this would likely curse him, thinking he was deliberately seeking death.
The forest they were heading into was teeming with monsters, after all.
However, Ihan followed Kunta without a single complaint, as he had done from the beginning.
If there was anything that bothered him...
"Why are you all following me?"
His disciples, trailing behind him like ducklings, were the real problem, weren’t they?
"It’s part of my family’s duty."
"I’m just doing the master’s errands."
"Perhaps I’ll be helpful? Maybe my healing skills or medical knowledge might come in handy..."
"...You’re all such busybodies."
During a teacher’s conference, Ihan had heard that students were stubborn and sometimes treated their teachers like dogs, beneath them in all ways. But his own students were different... so stubbornly sincere.
‘Being too diligent can be a problem, though.’
Who would have thought that their kindness and sincerity could become a problem?
‘It’s hard to tell them to go back when they’re so determined to help.’
They looked like they were making resolute efforts to be of help, but Ihan could never bring himself to tell them firmly to turn back, thinking they wouldn't be of assistance.
He barely managed to suppress a wry smile as he continued to follow Kunta.
"There, Instructor!"
"...Here?"
"Yes, right here."
"..."
"See, I told you it’s real..."
"Don’t tell me you were silent out of suspicion."
Ihan trusted Kunta’s abilities without a doubt.
Even though all that lay before them was a completely ordinary thicket, with nothing out of place, Ihan kept observing the forest carefully, his instincts alert.
...
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.
"Hurry up."
"Got it! Kunta, come this way!"
Ihan shouted with authority, ushering his disciples behind him.
If this was just a gut feeling, that would be fine. But if it wasn’t...
Swish!
"!?"
Before Ihan could finish his thought, the forest suddenly warped, and he desperately swung his sword.
Whoooosh!
Plum Blossom Sword Art—
The plum blossoms bloomed, wrapping around him and his disciples like budding flowers.
As soon as the blossom buds fully bloomed...
Whooooosh!
Ihan was momentarily stunned.
An enormous impact hit him, and though he was blocking with his Plum Blossom Sword, he could still feel the searing pain on his skin.
‘Even though I blocked it, it still hurts?!’
Ihan was confused, but there was no time to dwell on his bewilderment as—
Crack!
The plum blossom sword was pierced through, and once he confirmed the shield was breaking, he immediately activated his Iron Body technique.
Whoooosh!
The overwhelming destructive force of his Iron Body negated not only the rain of blades but erased it completely. And when everything was cleared away...
Huff...
"-Ah, isn’t this the instructor? What are you doing here?"
Standing before Ihan was him.
"Well, well, surprised, weren’t you? You almost got sliced by me, didn’t you?"
"..."
"Still, it's a relief. You’re amazing. Even though I swung casually, I never thought you’d be able to block it."
"..."
"I should apologize first. I’m sorry for swinging my sword again."
Whoooosh!
"...You must be very angry."
"...Not really."
Ihan didn’t hesitate for a moment before swinging his sword, and the figure before him couldn’t block the strike fully, causing blood to spill from his cheek.
Despite seeing this, Ihan felt no remorse.
And no wonder...
"Father...?"
Snatch!
"...Derrick?"
"Don’t, don’t come any closer, Arno. Th-That person... he’s not your father anymore."
"Wh-what...?!"
"The skin belongs to your father, but the inside... it’s no longer him. That’s..."
Gulp...
── He was a complete "Demon."