...Why was it so easy to imagine what his expression would be right now?
‘It’s probably frozen in place.’
Sure enough.
Despite the words being meant as a joke, Ihan raised his sword with a completely serious expression.
Jittering!
The feeling of such strong killing intent was something he was all too familiar with.
‘It’s different from that spear-wielder, though.’
This thought may sound like an odd logic, but the killing intent of Raq de Duron, the spear wielder, was pure. Even though he had the intention to kill, that aura was like the morning dew—clean, yet heavy. It wasn’t lowly or unpleasant.
But now, it was different.
‘It’s disgusting.’
Rotten water. The smell of decaying corpses.
The intense killing intent leaking from this man’s body was mixed with such things, sending a shiver down Ihan's spine.
Just facing this killing intent made his skin ache. How could this even happen?
Even though Iliad maintained his polite tone, those watching could feel the atmosphere was thick, suffocating with tension.
The space was heavy, almost as if it were consumed by an invisible fog, and at any moment, something could happen.
In such an atmosphere...
And thus, Ihan apologized in advance.
Ihan stomped down with his foot, and without any hesitation, swung his sword toward Iliad’s lower body.
***
This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.
...Levi didn’t see it.
The exact moment when his master moved or drew his sword.
It was that fast—so fast that it was almost miraculous how that large body could move so swiftly.
And then...
Cling!
"...Blocked?!"
The ease with which such a strike was blocked was surreal, as though the sword’s trajectory had been predicted and blocked with an air of indifference.
But of course, his master was his master.
Boom!
Iliad swung his sword again, as if daring his opponent to block it, and with each swing, light radiated from the edges of the blade.
Yet, each time...
...Is that even possible?
Levi, who also specialized in the rapier, understood.
The rapier wasn’t ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) meant to be used like that.
You could aim for speed or counters, but blocking a swordsman far superior in terms of physicality with a weapon as light as a rapier? It was like a fox trying to stop the paw of a bear.
Yet, how...?
No matter how much the physical difference or how fast and strong the opponent was, Iliad’s swordsmanship could calculate everything in the blink of an eye, adjusting the force and deflecting the sword by the slightest margin—a technique so close to divine that it was only available to someone with his unique skill.
This technique was a gift granted only to Iliad, the greatest swordsman in the history of his family and the kingdom. Only someone like the former genius swordsman, Duke Blake, could possibly imitate it.
Gulp...
It’s often said that geniuses are beings with abilities that overwhelm everyone else—beings with brilliance that awe and enchant all who witness them.
...It was an accurate assessment.
Levi, on the verge of death, could not hide his admiration and shock. Iliad’s swordsmanship was showing a level of artistry that no amount of effort could ever match.
But still...
Arno, unable to deny Kunta’s sharp observation, couldn’t suppress his silence.
What Kunta said was true. The Willow Sword was indeed an extraordinary and powerful technique.
But...
‘It wasn’t enough to easily divert the instructor’s strength like this.’
It wasn’t that Iliad was weak, but rather that his master, Ihan, was unnaturally strong.
And yet, now...
‘It feels like he’s attached springs or rubber bands to his joints.’
Just like Kunta had said, Iliad’s body seemed to stretch like rubber, and his movements had a spring-like rebound, as if he had undergone some unnatural modification.
His skeleton, once ordinary despite his towering talent, now seemed to have undergone years of genetic alteration, like he had been injected with metal and substances to modify his bone and muscle structure. And the more he moved, the more these changes became...
Crack!
It became clearer and clearer.
Arno gritted his teeth, accepting the bitter reality with a heart full of regret.
His father, Iliad de Offen, had...
A person who was a hero to humanity, now transformed into something that must be killed.
"Goddamn..."
Arno, cursing the cruel reality that his father had to die, shed a tear.
It was truly a horribly cruel fate.
***
A phenomenon where even a farmer who has never held a sword in his life gains the strength comparable to dozens of knights.
People called this phenomenon ‘Demonization.’
By consuming the flesh of monsters and becoming addicted to it, a person gains immense strength—strength that humans could never possess—and thus becomes a [Demon].
Some say...
Isn’t it a rather convenient method, if you gain such incredible power? Wouldn’t it help humanity if used correctly?
...It’s impossible.
Let me say this clearly: the moment someone becomes a Demon, that person is an enemy of humanity.
Why?
They begin to enjoy cannibalism and fratricide, even attacking the very families they once loved and enjoying the act of eating them.
Their memories are intact, and they understand moral laws, but they break them with ease, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
Therefore, a Demon is essentially classified as a ‘Monster.’
It means they are no longer human, and they’ve crossed a river that they cannot return from.
So...
Arno, wiping away his tears as he barely composed himself, looked to his side.
He didn’t sense her presence, but he simply assumed she’d be there, and sure enough...
"..."
She was there, her gaze calm and settled unlike usual.
And then, she spoke.
There was nothing she could say in defense.
The truth was, if she, the swordmaster Felicia, had made up her mind, Iliad should have been dead long ago.
Yet he was still alive.
And at that statement...
"..."
She gave a silent affirmation, her eyes filled with sorrow.
***
Apologizing for not being able to help when the family was falling apart.
Thanking for normalizing the family even though she wasn’t around.
And...
She offered this apology, but Arno shook his head.
Felicia spoke calmly, but it was clear she was holding back a lot of emotion.
But her choice, foolishly, had been...
That for an aura user, subduing someone shouldn’t be too difficult.
That’s not wrong. Subduing one person is indeed easy.
...However,
At the age of 20, he was already a swordsman whose equal couldn’t be found even in Pendragon, and that child had even gained the power of a Demon.
Heavenly talent and the overwhelming physical strength to shake the earth.
Once these two were combined, ‘subduing’ him was no longer an option.
...Killing was the only answer.
Whoooosh!
An ominous resonance spread from her sword.
The moment she made up her mind to kill him, the sword’s roar created a powerful resonance that no knight had ever demonstrated.
Perhaps it was the arrival of her grandchild that solidified her resolve; there was no more hesitation in her sword.
Because he was family. And because he was her only son...
She would send her son off.
He had lost his humanity, and sooner or later, he might hurt others or even harm her grandchild.
And that was something her son would never want.
Felicia, with her son in mind, made a firm resolve...
"????"
The force of the strike landed precisely in front of her.
Felicia was taken aback, thinking, What on earth is this nonsense? As the swordsman, drenched in sweat, stared straight ahead, he had cast Shattering Strike.
And then...
It was as if he could no longer endure the conversation.
What is a Mind Demon?
It’s a mental illness.
It’s just when the mind is flooded with blood, poison, or confusion, and it causes someone to go completely mad.
This means...
‘Beat it out of them, and they’ll get better.’
Just like how a mad dog can be cured with a stick, a mad person can be cured with a fist.
In this sense...
Unfortunately, it seemed like using a sword to beat him wasn’t going to work.