ETVC C23

Chapter 23

Crash!

The charge was halted by a single blow from Ryu Jisoo’s fist. The ground split asunder, long fissures running deep where her strike had landed. So great was the force that even those rushing toward us stopped dead in their tracks.

“Oh, I seem to be rather strong, do I not?”

Not merely rather. Whatever level her skill had manifested at the start, it was fearsome power indeed.

Truly, bringing her into the fold was worth the effort.

The trembling in my legs eased somewhat.

“Hey! Ignore her and press forward! Can’t you seize a mere woman?”

“Among hunters, where is there talk of man or woman, old man?”

Though not even a licensed hunter as yet, Ryu Jisoo declared it boldly. The armor suited her perfectly, and her movements—more vigorous now than even in practice—barred the path of those who lunged at us.

She was still unaccustomed to skill-use, and thus her bodily ability had not yet fully risen; weapons aimed her way struck true.

Bang.
Thunk.

Yet thanks to her A-rank gear, the weapons fell uselessly to the ground with but hollow clatters.

“She does possess talent.”

Without my noticing, Kang Gwonhoo had drawn close beside me. With a languid yawn, he muttered, hands shoved into his pockets, every inch the man disdaining the rabble before him.

“Indeed, does she not?”

“She bears the skill of the giant race. To lack talent would be the stranger thing.”

Even when his mouth twisted, he knew not how to praise.

“Still, she is holding her own against veteran hunters.”

Though we lingered idle at the rear, Jisoo paid us no heed, relishing the chance to release the strength she had long suppressed.

“That will last but the early stages. The fools who dash forward at the start are almost always the dregs.”

At his words, I swept my gaze widely across the barrier. One guild, like ourselves, lingered at the fringes, spectating. Another man, golden-haired, issued measured commands to his two companions, directing them as he observed the scene with keen calculation.

Standing back so deliberately—he must be the bearer of their mark.

That he hid it not revealed his confidence in his skill.

“And as for those fools reckless enough to assail our guild with me standing here—what clearer sign that they are witless? There shall remain but two guilds when this ends. Yet instead of striking at those without me, they throw themselves upon my blade. It is folly.”

Words so arrogant they might have shamed another man’s lips—yet from him, handsome and assured, they rang with the weight of cold reason.

That blond man… his face is familiar. A character I have seen somewhere before?

I glanced at the clock: already half past three. There was no leisure to recall the visage of an extra. Two guilds had already been felled, and the rest, wary, circled in hesitation. The clash slowed toward stalemate.

“Shall we fight? Since you bear the mark, Woojin-ssi, prudence suggests restraint. The clever guilds are doing as much.”

Had I the luxury, I too would have preferred to stand idle with folded arms.

[B-rank item, Blue-hued Sword, has been summoned.]

The heavy weapon materialized in my grip. To fight men was a repulsive thing—but time pressed. When one who had stood silent drew steel, the tension among all sharpened like drawn wire.

“So you truly mean to fight? I had thought you incapable of striking another human.”

Kang Gwonhoo’s voice carried genuine surprise.

“The hour grows short.”

“So that is why you cannot tear your gaze from the clock. I know not what business makes you so pressed for time, but very well—I shall lend my hand.”

And suddenly, where his hands had been empty, there appeared two pistols. My breath caught. Surely he did not mean to wield those infamous guns—guns said to pierce even dragon-scale—against mere men? I moved at once, instinct driving me to block his path with my sword. To wield such weapons against humans meant nigh-certain death. My body had acted before my mind; I startled even myself.

“Do not fret. I shall use not live rounds, but magic bullets—measured to wound, not to kill.”

Crackle—

Lightning split the air before me. Had Kang Gwonhoo not seized my collar and pulled me back, I should have been struck.

“So you do not flee to shield your mark, after all. At last, you find the will to fight?”

At the sight of lightning, memory struck me: that golden-haired man was none other than Jeon Gi-hwa.

Not a character of import, he had been mocked among players for the name that so bluntly matched his ability—Electric Transformation. Yet, for that very absurdity, he had gained some notoriety.

“Forgive me, sir, but I have not the faintest notion who you might be.”

One ought to choose one’s opponents wisely before provoking. To Kang Gwonhoo, gnats such as these were scarcely more irksome than ants upon his palm.

Electric Transformation… they said his power was strong early on, but the truth proved otherwise. Low mana, and nothing beyond hurling crude bolts. Still, a nuisance to face, for the strikes did bite when they landed. Worse, against Baek Woojin’s own lightning, the match was poor. Woojin’s lightning prized speed, while Jeon Gi-hwa’s was slower but far more destructive. Were I truly Baek Woojin, I might overwhelm him with mana and skill-level, but as I am now, unused to this body, I stand at risk.

“Do you mean to scorn our guild master?”

Two men at his side stepped forth.

“I shall face them.”

I had glimpsed their abilities earlier: one used plants and weapons to entrap foes, the other hardened his body into iron and leapt short distances to strike at close range.

“Very well.”

Even as he replied, Kang Gwonhoo fired, moving with predatory grace. To him, it was but a warm-up; to us, it was battle. Jeon Gi-hwa flinched, retreating hastily from him.

Good. He is well parted from his subordinates.

“Guild master!”

I intercepted his two companions, blocking their path toward him.

[Skill “Blessing of Lightning Lv.28” is activated. The blue lightning supports your will.]

From my blade poured azure lightning, snaring their feet. Strange indeed that such loyalty bound them to their master—for all I knew, he was no great leader.

“Let us leave that man to his own fate.”

[Skill “Lunar Swordsmanship Lv.35” is activated. The blessing of moonlight rests upon your hand!]

Having used it once before, the skill came easier. Outwardly calm, inwardly I quelled the hammering of my heart with effort.

“Begone!”

From beneath my feet, iron spikes erupted. Forewarned of such a pattern, I drove my blade into the ground, sending my lightning coursing through it. The iron blackened, then fell harmlessly. My skill-level exceeded his.

Swish—

But to ward off the shuriken whistling through the air, I was forced to draw my sword free. My lightning gathered in the air, forming a living mass that batted the weapons away. The skill bent to my will more readily than I had imagined.

If I truly master this, shall I become as strong as Baek Woojin once was?

“You weakling wretch!”

Enraged at his failure, the iron-armed brute dashed toward me, shrinking the distance with a teleport-like step.

Weakling? My body is not feeble. It is you, brutish and overgrown, who are absurd.

“Electricity shall serve me well.”

As his massive iron fist swung toward my face, I slid aside and laid my blade against his arm. Lightning coursed through the iron, surging across his body. He convulsed, then collapsed heavily to the ground.

“I did not even strike with full force.”

It seemed he was but unconscious.

D-does he yet live?

Unease pricked me. Casting aside my sword, I knelt and pressed my hand to his nose—

“Fool.”

Suddenly, strength returned to him. He seized me in an iron grip, holding fast. Too late, I knew I had been snared. The whistle of shuriken came from behind—I could not move.

Damnation!

I could only curse my own folly—casting aside my weapon mid-battle.

Bang! Bang!

By fortune, bullets from beyond my sight tore the shuriken from the air. Looking up, I saw Kang Gwonhoo, standing atop the fallen Jeon Gi-hwa, waving a hand toward me.

“Begone!”

Ryu Jisoo, cutting down the plant-wielder with brute force, charged toward us. I struck the iron man across the head with my sword’s flat; at last, he slumped into true unconsciousness.

“Let us finish this.”

Even as he spoke, Kang Gwonhoo pressed his hand upon the mark upon Jeon Gi-hwa’s back. And thus it ended: at Hapjeong Station, but two guilds stood unbroken.

Ours, and another who, like us, had chosen only to watch while others fought.