Chapter 434

434 Gathering of the Strong #3

I am Achilles, the warrior of Petia, also known as the Widows’ Lament. A master of all weapons, cursed and fallen to a state of the living dead. Small Pluto, I hereby challenge thee.

Sssh-.

Achilles gripped his sword with both hands and lowered his stance.

The son of the Underworld, you are more than a sufficient opponent—.

He moved into a stance resembling that of a charging bull’s horns, thrusting his sword forward as if to lunge, in that very moment—

Pashh-.

Before I could react fully, he had vanished.

But my senses, honed through countless battles, detected vibrations warning me just moments before the blade could have grazed my chin, causing me to instinctively j*rk my head back.

Aaaaiiiee-!

At that instant, a long blade appeared to slice through the air, creating a crescent arc from my navel upwards to my jawline.

Achilles had already reached beneath my chin, swinging his sword upwards.

If this Achilles can’t be crossed, all that awaits you, Hassan, is d*ath!

Aaaiee-!

The upward slash was now tracing a diagonal line towards my body. A clean combination attack.

“Grgh-!”

I recovered from the unexpected assault and quickly rolled back to create distance.

Sssh-.

As a result, Achilles’s sword drew a flash of light through the air. Its movement was dedicated solely to ‘cutting’, devoid of any unnecessary motion.

Had I been struck by that, even in my current state, I would’ve sustained a fatal wound from my left shoulder to my right side.

If my luck had been worse, my body might have been severed in two.

I managed to dodge it.

“Fck, do you really intend to k*ll me?”

Yes. I only draw my sword with the intention to k*ll. Once I’ve unsheathed it, either you or I must d*e.

“…”

If I were to d*e here, perhaps I’d end up in the Underworld you yearn for. Then, you’ll understand how foolish your thinking has been—.

Aaaah-.

I felt the overwhelming killing intent radiating from the skeletal form of the d*ath Knight like taking a shower in soda water.

He’s absolutely serious.

When was the last time I felt such intense killing intent?

There was a brief moment of confusion, but the cold intent piercing through my skin calmed my senses instead.

“Huh-.”

I adjusted my posture while calming down.

You won’t draw your weapon? Very well, I’ll give you time.

Achilles taunted. However, I was fully aware there would be no time to draw the staff on my back.

The moment my hand reached for my back, his blade would pierce my neck or slice through my torso, severing it completely.

Flinch-.

Sshh-.

Indeed, with every movement or breath, Achilles’ blade moved slightly, tracking my actions.

He will strike mercilessly if I reveal any opening or make any move.

What a spineless skeleton.

He must have lost his conscience along with his flesh and muscles, or perhaps rootless beings naturally lack morality.

But it’s not a problem.

A refined warrior’s body is itself akin to a weapon.

This is something I’ve deeply understood from battles with Hippolyte, Kalidur, and the man before me, Achilles.

I’ll face him unarmed.

And if I start complaining about his dishonorable tactics, I’ll never make it to the challenge of the Underworld, a conglomeration of all absurdities, according to Achilles.

“…”

Thus, I faced off against Achilles holding his longsword for a considerable time.

Neither of us moved a muscle, both in tense anticipation, searching for the smallest of flaws.

I had once heard from Kalidur and Hippolyte, “The battles of the strong are unexpectedly silent and peaceful.”

Most fights don’t last long and often end anticlimactically, they said.

I hadn’t fully grasped it then, but now I understand well.

The fight is more about not creating openings while searching for the opponent’s weakness.

Maintaining this level of tension while facing someone intent on ending my life feels like depleting one’s lifespan.

And there’s a stabbing pain in my stomach, too.

But there’s no time to dwell on that pain.

Pwaaa-.

In an instant, Achilles leaped forth, his blade seemingly severing me from my head down to my groin.

“Uhrrgh-!”

Startled, I hurriedly sidestepped.

Now it seemed like what I had just witnessed wasn’t Achilles’ real attack but some sort of illusion.

What the fck?

I was baffled.

Achilles stood where he was, and my body, which I thought was cut, was perfectly fine.

Puzzled, I adjusted my stance, when Achilles still holding his sword spoke.

To fall for such crude killing intent. It seems this is your first time dueling a true master.

“Killing intent…?”

It’s about sending a premonition. By moving muscles, bones, and posture, it informs the opponent of the kind of attack I’m about to launch.

“A-.”

It’s a form of probing battle only accessible to those who have attained a certain level. Hassan, your eyes and ears are extraordinary. Therefore, this sort of deceit will be all the more effective on you.

Sshh, sshh-.

Swish-.

Achilles’s sword strikes continued to cut through the air, targeting parts of my body.

Of course, these weren’t real strikes but rather illusions created by my mind.

In other words, my heightened insight, which I’ve gained since realizing my divine nature and breaking through level 40, created these imaginary attacks based on Achilles’ movements, replaying them like a video in my head.

It’s like when seeing a lemon makes your brain instinctively salivate.

Chaac, zsoooo-.

The problem was that these fictitious attacks were actually causing damage to me.

I felt slashes on my arms spewing bl**d and superficial lacerations forming on my face and neck, where I had been ‘cut’ by Achilles’ illusions.

Ssshhh-.

The cut on my forehead caused bl**d to drip into my eyes, blinding my vision. But I couldn’t afford to expose any vulnerability.

This is tricky.

Though not fatal, this was completely one-sided.

Getting cut by illusions! How is this even possible? That reminded me of a story from my dual-core experience.

A torturer had once locked a blindfolded prisoner in a room with an air conditioner, falsely claiming it was an ultra-cold freezer.

The prisoner suffered severe hypothermia as though actually trapped in such conditions.

I don’t fully understand why, but it’s due to how the brain works.

Isn’t this similar?

My enhanced dual-core, freed from the Blessing of Chaos, has now—

overperformed, creating these fictional illusions and physical wounds as though I was genuinely slashed.

Dammit, being too smart is a problem.

Anyway, if we keep exchanging auras like this, my body will be reduced to shreds by my self-created illusions.

I decided to end the probing and quickly resolve this unpleasant situation.

Moreover, Achilles’ sword had been resonating ominously, which was unsettling.

I felt that prolonging this would lead to something terrible.

Sssh-.

“Tch-!”

I quickly loosened the qi in my body and charged toward Achilles with my superhuman agility, which was now at level 15.

Superhuman agility doesn’t make me faster, but instead makes the world around me seem to slow down.

Good senses. It was almost complete, but—.

But even within this slowed-down world, Achilles managed to track my movements and slashed downward with his sword.

This revealed that his agility was at least 14.

Ssh-.

“Get out of the way—. If you want to live.”

In the slowed world, Achilles’ sword cleanly carved a crescent through the air from left to right. Simultaneously, a crescent-shaped silver blade of light detached from his sword and flew out.

This was no illusion or imagination—it was raw killing intent, materialized.

Ssssshhh-.

Its size was several times larger than mine, as if tearing apart the very depths of darkness.

The cliffs it touched disintegrated like paper, sending shivers through my spine.

This was a level and magnitude of cutting power even Hippolyte, a master of the sword, had never achieved.

Taking it head-on would probably leave even me incapacitated.

And I wasn’t going to take it—just avoid it!

So, I swung my fist fiercely upwards, striking the ground.

“Earthen Wall Burst—!

Kooonngg-.

This created a deep pit, lowering the surrounding field of vision. It was a hastily dug trench.

Thanks to this, I was able to lower my head just in time to evade the crescent-shaped blade without being split apart.

Close shave.

A memory surfaced in my mind—something I had vaguely heard during training with Hippolyte.

Ultimate techniques. Grand finishing moves. They are indeed powerful but also the most vulnerable moment for counterattacks because they create plenty of openings.

Indeed.

Hippolyte’s words proved true.

Whenever an ultimate technique misses, it’s the best time for a counterattack.

So, I pushed off like a frog and bounded into Achilles, benefitting from the compressed energy of my crouched position.

This breakneck speed made it possible to breach Achilles’ defense as he was regaining his posture after releasing his sword’s blade of power.

Finally, I was able to deliver a punch filled with my utmost determination to the chin with all my strength.

How monotonous—!

Of course, Achilles’ skills were not sloppy enough to let such a strike through.

Pwaaaa-!

With a Might skill at level 16, my punch creates an intense shockwave that once blew away Hippolyte’s tent.

My level is far higher now than it was back then—!

“Hot blast of the divine fist—!

My punch soared upward with intense force, like the sword technique Achilles had unleashed before, a fierce and merciless gale sweeping everything in its path skyward.

What, what is—!

Crack, crackle—.

The shockwave created by the impact cracked the armor encasing Achilles’ body. He braced himself by plunging his sword into the ground.

Grghhh—.

He dropped to one knee and collected himself, seemingly trying to gather the last reserves of life force.

Truly, it’s unreasonable. The divine strength of God—.

“But, didn’t you also spare me? You had plenty of opportunities to sever my neck.”

I recalled the moments when Achilles sent illusions to me. Had any of those moments included a real strike, I would surely not have been able to block them.

He didn’t.

Thus, I wondered if this had been a sort of test.

“Therefore, did I pass the test? Were you evaluating if I’m fit to assemble a team to venture into the Underworld?”

Half correct. But the other half was a genuine attempt to k*ll you. Yet, you survived. Yes, as you said, you’ve passed the test. My body, Achilles, acknowledges that you’re worthy to graduate from the Hero Academy.

“Graduate?”

You’re now a true hero, far above the level I first encountered you at.

“…”

Being praised wasn’t a bad feeling.

Not long after, the broken skeleton groaned and started rummaging inside his hut.

Here it is. As proof of graduation, I’ll present you with this.

He handed me a golden necklace.

Its shape was something I had seen dangling around Hippolyte’s neck and was well acquainted with.

“Isn’t this… the mark of Gold Tier—.”

No, it’s not like the ones issued by the Guild. I, Achilles, was one of the first students and followers of the half-man, half-horse Chiron. This was given as the graduation mark of the first group.

“Ah-.”

The graduation token from the first group. If I showed this to the juniors, I’d definitely receive good treatment.

I’ve heard much about Chiron and his academy.

Simply put, it’s a teacher and his academy.

Chiron raises the seeds of heroic potential.

The reason adventurers wear necklaces stems from the tradition Chiron started of bestowing golden necklaces to his graduates.

Achilles was his disciple.

This felt like a real graduation ceremony.

I felt genuinely recognized by this formidable warrior, an indescribably moving sensation.

“Then, will you join me to venture into the underworld?”

No, I am not permitted to go there. That’s why I wander this world as bones alone.

… So, I couldn’t recruit Achilles after all.

Then a curiosity arose, something I had wanted to ask for a while but refrained from doing so.

But, since it’s a graduation commemoration, one question is allowed.

“I’ve always wondered… how did you end up becoming a d*ath knight?”

…

Achilles paused briefly.

His eyes showed deliberation and worry before he spoke slowly.

It happened because I desecrated a corpse. For that, I incurred the wrath of Pluto, and thus I endure this penance. For years, decades even, I cannot rest in the Underworld, approach forbidden.

Cannot rest—.

I felt the weight of his weariness in those words.

It was heavier than the strongest blade of energy he had sent earlier, so heavy no words could come out.

Living life as an undead being.

A life feeling no warmth, a life where everything is veiled in a faint gray.

Of course, it must be heavy.

I spoke.

“If I succeed in the Underworld expedition, I’ll look for a way to let you retire and rest.”

I’m grateful. Do you really intend to go?

“Yes.”

Indeed, it seems that is your destiny. Hassan, I truly wish to fight by your side, but circumstances deny me that.

“Yes, well, if the situation doesn’t allow, there’s nothing else to be done.”

Instead, in the impending war, I’ll be the spearhead at your disposal.

“War?”

What war?

Sshh-.

Achilles sniffed the air, making a sound.

Hassan, I sense war on you. After I became this, it’s one of the few things I can smell—bl**d, slaughter, terror, cries, all the chaos of war. A great war is imminent.

“War…?”

Hence, I asked about his deployment destination.

Anyway, in that war, I’ll strike down the most troublesome enemy head first. I promise it by the river Styx.

That concluded the conversation between Achilles and me.

Holding the doubts welling up and the golden necklace as the proof of the first graduating class, I returned to Sodomora.

When I arrived, I noticed a considerable crowd gathered and murmuring in the city’s center.

Why are so many people gathered here? Are they welcoming me perhaps?

When I tried to slip through,

Hey, don’t push!

Don’t skip the line!

Strangely, they pushed me back.

What’s going on?

So, I pushed through the crowd until I finally reached their center, the eye of the storm.

I am from the nobility of Cadias province, a monster hunter who slayed the Calydonian boar!

There stood a certain woman.

The great warrior of the goddess Diana, the savage lioness that tears apart her foes!

She stood there, declaring:

The reckless Hassan of Sodomora who dared summon a quest with such trifling pretentious letters. Step forth and accept my challenge—Atalante!

[Author’s Postscript]

By the way, with the story’s pace suddenly picking up, some readers might feel as if the conclusion is nearing closer.

But there are still plenty of rich episodes and volumes left until the end—!

There are still the grand episodes I envisioned, the final boss, the shadowy antagonist, the secrets of birth yet to uncover…

Gathering of the Strong