Episode 265: Stubbornness (3)
Kilo’s shoulders shook intermittently. He couldn’t hold back his tears any longer.
“Are you angry? Do you want to kill them?” Victor asked.
Kilo nodded silently, his face a mix of tears and determination.
“I was planning to knock all of you out until this was over. But I’ve changed my mind.”
Kilo looked up, confusion mingling with his tear-streaked face, as if to ask why they were to be knocked out in the first place.
“If you swear to keep silent about what happens here until your dying day, I’ll let you stay. I’ll show you those two pieces of trash meeting their end.”
Victor gestured toward the Weapon Master and Akilo. The Weapon Master burst into laughter.
“Kill me? That’s amusing. I misunderstood you. I thought you were trying to showcase your skills to join my ranks.”
His laughter slowly faded, but the smile remained.
“But now I see. You really came here to kill me.”
“Only just realizing that? You’re slower than I thought.”
“Everyone who’s challenged me before has followed the proper procedures of Pandemonium. You’re the first to act so recklessly.”
“It’s laughable that trash like you, who disrupt society, have procedures at all.”
“Hahaha, aren’t you a dark sorcerer yourself?”
Victor twisted one corner of his mouth without a word.
“Come out, all of you.”
Victor spoke softly, and shadows at his feet rippled as the remaining undead emerged.
The Weapon Master gave a short, impressed whistle at the sight of their armor.
“Green Sky Steel? I wonder how you managed to coax the Dwarves of the Hammer to part with such a rare alloy.”
The undead, clad in armor made of Green Sky Steel, exuded a terrifying aura. Yet the Weapon Master seemed unfazed, if anything, a thrill seemed to light up his face.
“Interesting. Very interesting. But do you really think you can kill me with just this?”
Victor didn’t answer. Instead, he gave orders to the undead.
“Dominico.”
-Yes, my lord.
“Go outside and seal the city. Stop anyone who tries to approach.”
Dominico bowed, and the undead transformed back into shadows, disappearing beyond the city.
“You’re sending all your summoned undead away? Are you planning to face me alone?”
“You’re slow to catch on. If you understand, prepare to fight.”
The Weapon Master laughed incredulously.
“I don’t know why you’re being so reckless… but it must mean you’re confident.”
He reached behind him, selecting a spear from the dozens of weapons strapped to his back.
As soon as he gripped the spear, red electricity crackled along its length, bathing the city in a crimson glow, as if he held lightning itself.
“Victor! That’s dangerous! Run away now!” Kilo shouted urgently.
The Weapon Master possessed an enormous collection of cursed weapons. Not all were famous, but a few were notorious.
The spear he held now was one of the notorious ones.
“The Demon Spear, Genuer! Its destructive power can reshape the landscape with a single throw! Even a graze will vaporize you!”
Despite Kilo’s cries, Victor stood still, showing no intention of dodging.
“Victor!” Kilo shouted again, but Victor remained silent. Meanwhile, the Weapon Master prepared to throw the spear.
“If you can block this, I’ll acknowledge you.”
The Weapon Master tossed the spear lightly, as if discarding trash.
The spear flew with a thunderous roar, red lightning racing across the ground.
“Ah, ah…!”
Just as Kilo was about to squeeze his eyes shut, Victor did something strange.
He opened a pocket dimension and reached inside.
Just before the lightning struck, Victor withdrew his hand, pulling out a sword.
The sword met the lightning.
Kilo thought the energy would explode, but the situation unfolded differently.
The angle of the lightning shifted with the sword’s movement.
Victor spun the sword in a circle, and the lightning followed suit.
Then it shot back toward the Weapon Master.
The lightning retraced its path, engulfing the Weapon Master.
“What?”
The Weapon Master was so shocked he didn’t even think to draw another weapon. He blocked the lightning with his bare hands.
With a deafening boom, the red energy exploded, obliterating the ground.
“Argh…!”
The Weapon Master screamed, his arm, which had blocked the lightning, completely burned.
“Victor…! You brat! What was that? How can a dark sorcerer… a dark sorcerer!”
The Weapon Master raged at Victor.
“A disciple of the Sword Saint? No! That movement… I’ve seen it before! You are…!”
Victor grabbed his mask and tore it off.
The Weapon Master, eyes bloodshot, shouted in recognition.
“Damian Haxen!”
“Feels good to take that off.”
Damian tossed the mask to the ground. The air on his skin felt refreshing.
He looked up at the furnace.
Thanks to his knowledge as a dark sorcerer, he could see them. The souls of the Dwarves trapped within.
-Aaah!
-Kill me! Please!
-It hurts! It hurts!
The Dwarves wept tears of blood, their cries echoing in agony.
But they could never be free. The furnace was their body.
Souls separated from their bodies weaken with pain and eventually vanish.
The furnace was made from the muscles, nerves, and organs of countless Dwarves, forcibly fused into one.
Such a forced union was bound to have problems.
The connected nerves delivered constant pain to them.
“You… you’re not Victor?” Kilo asked, shocked. Damian chuckled.
“Ask me later. Right now, I’ve got trash to take out.”
Damian advanced, sword in hand.
Meanwhile, the Weapon Master drew a dagger from his belt.
Darkness flowed from the dagger, healing his lightning-burned arm completely.
“Damian Haxen, how are you here? How are you using dark magic?”
The Weapon Master’s face was a mask of confusion.
The undead Damian commanded were far from ordinary.
They were more skilled than most high-ranking dark sorcerers.
But Damian was a knight. A rising star on the continent.
And he was using dark magic? At a level surpassing high-ranking sorcerers?
“I’m a bit of a genius, you see.”
“Stop with the nonsense and answer me! How are you using dark magic?”
“Too much trouble to explain, so let’s skip it.”
Damian’s words made the Weapon Master grind his teeth.
Already furious from the lightning’s reversal, he found even minor taunts unbearable.
”…Fine, you don’t want to answer.”
The Weapon Master grabbed a warhammer from his back. Its head was shaped like a skull.
The warhammer exuded a sinister dark energy, clearly another cursed weapon.
“Let’s see if you can still talk after I crush your limbs!”
The Weapon Master unleashed his dark power, a massive pressure enveloping the city.
“Ah, ah…!”
Kilo looked ready to faint.
In contrast, Damian seemed unfazed, even smirking.
“Impressive, as expected of your reputation.”
The Weapon Master charged, warhammer in hand.
“First, I’ll wipe that smile off your face!”
He swung the warhammer down. Damian met it with his sword without hesitation.
“You idiot!”
The Weapon Master shouted.
Common sense dictated that a sword would break against a hammer.
The amount of metal in each weapon was different, so the hammer was naturally stronger. Plus, the warhammer was a cursed weapon.
And while the Weapon Master wielded the warhammer with both hands, Damian swung his sword with one.
By all logic, the sword should shatter, and the warhammer should crush Damian.
But when the two weapons clashed, the Weapon Master’s expectations shattered.
The sword withstood the warhammer’s blow. No, it did more than withstand.
The blade began to cut into the warhammer. The sight of a cursed weapon being sliced left the Weapon Master in shock.
“This is impossible…”
At that moment, Damian put more strength into his arm.
After undergoing a complete transformation, Demian’s body had changed entirely.
Now, Demian was several times stronger than when he fought Slava.
With a swift swing of his sword, Demian pushed back the Weapon Master.
The Weapon Master was sent skidding backward, carving a long line through the ruins of the city.
He stared at Demian in disbelief.
The Weapon Master was an ancient warrior, having lived for nearly a century. He was a formidable opponent.
Yet, here he was, being overpowered by Demian. A wave of indignation washed over him, almost unbearable.
“You’re a lot lighter than your reputation suggests,” Demian remarked, resting his sword on his shoulder.
The Weapon Master’s face twisted with anger.
“You insolent brat!”
He launched himself off the ground again, his war hammer hurtling toward Demian with the intent to crush his skull.
Demian deftly parried the attack with his sword, again and again.
Each clash left deep marks on the surface of the war hammer.
“Where did you get that monstrous weapon?” the Weapon Master exclaimed, withdrawing his war hammer. In its place, he wielded a spear and a longsword.
“Let me show you why they call me the Weapon Master!”
He swung both weapons simultaneously, their trajectories intertwining in a deadly dance.
But Demian blocked every attack, causing the Weapon Master’s lips to curl in frustration.
“This is just the beginning.”
The Weapon Master swapped his weapons again, this time for a scythe and a whip.
“I am the Weapon Master. There is no weapon in this world I cannot wield.”
It was no idle boast. The Weapon Master truly could handle any weapon at a master-class level.
The arsenal strapped to his back was no mere show.
His primary strategy was to overwhelm his opponents by constantly switching between dozens of weapons.
“Let’s see how many weapons you can withstand!”
His hands moved with blinding speed.
Swords, spears, whips, daggers, gauntlets, crossbows—an endless barrage of weapons.
And it wasn’t just the weapons that changed; his techniques evolved with each switch.
It felt like battling dozens of master-class warriors at once.
“I’ve always wondered,” Demian said, countering the relentless assault.
“You boast about being the Weapon Master, but doesn’t that just mean you haven’t truly mastered any single weapon?”
The Weapon Master’s face contorted with rage, as if possessed.
“You insolent brat, what nonsense are you spouting?”
At that moment, Demian struck down with his sword, pinning the Weapon Master’s weapon to the ground.
The spear, poised to strike, was driven into the earth.
Seizing the opportunity, Demian lunged forward, twisting his body to deliver a powerful kick to the Weapon Master’s chest.
The impact left a deep dent, sending him flying backward.
“I told you,” Demian said, lowering his outstretched leg.
“You’re just mediocre.”