Episode 212
It feels like the person has definitely changed.
Thanos felt it, and Harold felt it too.
And the two masters watching from afar also felt it.
It’s to the point where I wonder if he really has a split personality.
Charlotte slowly reaches out her hand.
“Do you know anything about the Exile Pantheon?”
“I know. One of the masters of the Tulcan Empire and the owner of the golden mana. Of course I know. He was killed by Jack Valantie a while ago.”
“Do you know how our boss was killed back then?”
Harold shook his head.
All I know is that Jack Valantier killed the Exile Pantheon, that’s all.
“It’s called a technique called ‘rigid technique’, and the boss uses it up to stage 4. But this question came to mind.”
“question?”
“Yes. Now I understand what kind of world the boss sees. Even if I surpass the 4th level of the martial arts, I wonder if I will be able to achieve that level of strength.”
Harold was nervous.
No kidding, you’re only a 2 circle mana user, right?
Now I’m nervous in front of 4-circle mana users.
This is the fear that instinct cries out.
It had nothing to do with skill or strength.
Then, Charlotte’s right arm began to swell.
And then it gets compressed in an instant.
Just like that once.
And once again.
And here we go again.
Charlotte’s right arm, bathed in light.
That hand, with its black skin and red veins, was truly horrifying, almost shocking.
Partial rigidity in 3 stages.
Next.
Tutuk- tut!
It swells up once more.
Partial rigidity stage 4.
The power that Jack had when he cut off the neck of the Exile Pantheon.
It came up again.
Thanos, who was behind him, spoke to Harold.
“Dean.”
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“Why is that?”
“… … Subdue, is it possible?”
Harold laughed.
It would have been strange not to laugh in this situation.
“I don’t think you know.”
“… … .”
“Being the owner of golden mana among the Masters means standing one or two steps below the top of the world.”
“But my lord cut off the head of the Exile Pantheon in that state.”
Harold laughed again.
“That’s possible because it’s Jack Valantier. To me, that power looks very unstable right now.”
“… …Is that so?”
“I’m not an instructor at the swordsmanship department, but I’ll tell you. That power is a technique that compresses all the mana, all the muscles, and the innate energy that makes up the body before mana into one place.”
Thanos’ eyes lit up.
This was a story I didn’t know.
“It seems to be divided into stages. Do you know how many stages there are?”
Thanos recalled his memories.
Jack added this while teaching the martial arts:
It is said that there are six levels of rigidity.
And the moment you unfold the 6th stage, both your opponent and yourself will die.
So I’ll just tell you up to step 5.
Thanos said.
“I understand there are six levels in total.”
Harold paused for a moment after hearing that.
Step 6… … .
“Really… …what a terrible technique.”
“… … .”
“If I may finish speaking, when moving from stage 3 to stage 4, the innate ability moves. Do you understand that part?”
“… … It’ll take a little while.”
“To put it simply, the essence of those ‘four stages’ is one. That is, ‘one-hit, fatal kill’. You divide that energy in half and use it twice, or you divide it in three and use it three times. In other words.”
“in other words?”
“It’s a technique used when you’re sure of victory. It’s a technique where you stand on the line and bet everything, whether your opponent dies or you die, and you bet everything on that victory.”
Harold walked slowly.
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“Probably from stage 5 onwards, it will be enough to overload your own body. It’s not a one-hit-kill level, but a technique that returns to its original state. A technique that cuts the life out of the opponent and kills them unconditionally. This wasn’t a simple body strengthening technique.”
People misunderstand this.
Jack Balantier is great, but The Master is definitely great too.
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Because among humans, they are so close to monsters that they are called superhumans.
The feeling I had for Charlotte in front of me was nothing more than anxiety.
To be exact, it is a kind of wariness felt by those who are strong.
I wonder what will happen to a child like that as time goes by.
How much more will it grow?
How much stronger will it become?
That’s why I was on guard.
That’s why I was afraid.
Because I had no idea how far it would grow.
But not yet.
Charlotte is not a ‘complete’ character like Jack Valantier, but rather a ‘growing’ character.
Harold with his sword hanging down.
His golden body rushed towards Charlotte.
Next is Charlotte’s sword.
Ss …
It stretched out at an absurd speed.
Harold’s sword extended accordingly.
The two swords meet, and the mana engraved on their faces collide.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaahh …
* * *
Aveiro, with dark circles under his eyes, asked me.
“… … Are you okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. Where did you put ‘them’?”
“I put it in the president’s office.”
He carried his teacher on his shoulders and headed to the president’s office with Aveiro.
This morning.
Work started a little after 10 o’clock and the current time is 9 o’clock.
It’s all over.
Those who were meant to die are dead, those who were hiding are dead, those who were whining are dead, and those who were climbing up without understanding the situation are all dead.
And the ‘those guys’ in the president’s office right now are the ‘kids’ who are too scared to kill, that is, they are innocent.
I glance back and see our green dragon Blanc sitting there, gasping for breath.
I’m completely exhausted right now from going back and forth between realms via teleportation all day.
Even if it’s a dragon, it’s natural for it to get tired after using teleportation more than 80 times.
“You’ve worked hard, so go to the villa and rest.”
“……yes.”
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“If you go, Guinness will have prepared something for you. Eat that and sleep. And then.”
“… … And?”
“If you kill Guinness or something… you know what happens?”
Blanc gulps.
Is it dry saliva or thin saliva?
It was a trivial thought.
“I’ll give you a vacation until the field trip is over, so just rest. If you’re bored, you can follow me around.”
“……thank you.”
So I left Blanc behind and headed to the president’s office with Aveiro.
As soon as the door opens, dozens of men and women inside turn their heads.
All eyes are focused on each other.
The age range was diverse.
From three years old to teenagers.
So 5 years old, 6 years old, 7 years old… … 10 years old… … 12 years old, 13 years old, 14 years old, 15 years old, etc.
It was really diverse.
These are the family members of dozens of families I killed this morning.
I told you.
I only kill those who deserve to be killed.
Kids who don’t need to be killed.
Clean kids who were found by mobilizing all anonymous people.
They were the only ones gathered in the president’s office right now.
He walked slowly, sat down at the head of the table, and got straight to the point.
“Some of you may not know me, and some may know, but I’ll just introduce myself. I’m Jack. I’m the one who killed all the heads of your families and took your lands.”
“… … .”
It was quiet.
Aveiro, the city behind me, was also silent, so quiet that it was almost cold.
That was when.
“So why did you bring us together? To apologize?”
Although he is quite young, his eyes are quite bright.
Not cloudy, but not angry either.
But apples?
“What the hell are you talking about? Why should I apologize?”
“……yes?”
Pick laughed and turned his head back.
“Aveiro, take out what you prepared.”
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“Yes, my lord.”
Aveiro, who was behind him, took out a bundle of documents from his bosom and placed them on the table.
Then he stands behind me again.
He slowly crossed his legs and spoke.
“Look at that and say it again.”
About 10 minutes passed like that.
The children looked at the writing on the paper and frowned, covered their mouths in shock, and even closed their eyes and looked up at the ceiling.
There are a variety of reactions.
I asked again.
“Okay, tell me again. What am I doing? An apology?”
“… … .”
“If there’s a kid who says I should apologize after seeing that, he should die. And he should die a horrible death. Right?”
“… … .”
There is more to the world than what is visible.
In particular, the fact that a hereditary noble owns land is in itself no different from having considerable power.
But the process by which hereditary nobility write history, as was the case with the Duke of Malone, is not always pretty.
It can’t be exactly beautiful.
History is made because there are people who cover it up, kill it, and erase it.
“You can ignore all the other keywords. Rape, murder, arson. These three are enough.”
I looked around quietly.
“Needle’s parents, Marquis Delit, Duke Malone, etc., it’s a new thing, but they’re all cheap guys. Do you think that’s all there is to it?”
I was bored so I counted them.
I wonder how many ‘innocent people’ have been killed by the nobles I killed?
“A total of 9,528 people. Just 40 families killed nearly ten thousand people in less than a century, let alone half a century. The majority of them were women, married women, and pregnant women.”
Again, silence falls.
“There were merchants, soldiers, knights. Of course, there were mercenaries, inventors, and magicians. 9528 people, this is a much bigger number than you might think. Because that number is just the number of innocent people. If you just take the number of dead people, it will be inflated by at least three or four times. Isn’t it amazing?”
He raised his arms and rested his chin on them.
I killed 15,000 troops a while ago, but that’s completely different from this.
Skipping everything else, at least none of the people I killed were pregnant.
There were no innocent children.
anyway.
“Everyone who had even a little bit of a hand in that, or even anyone who was even a little bit involved, is dead. Each of you has a brother, a sister, or a sister. The ones who aren’t here? You can assume they’re all dead. Okay, let me ask again. Apology? Should I apologize?”
“… … .”
“I won’t even say anything like, ‘I’ll do it if you want it.’ Why should I apologize? They were worthless bastards. You all knew that, didn’t you? Your parents and your relatives were such bastards. They were nobles who weren’t nobles, and instead of protecting those they were supposed to protect, they took from them. Those are the bastards I killed.”
“so.”
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That guy from earlier.
The guy looks at me with calm eyes.
“Why are you saying this? No, why did you keep us alive?”
Why did you keep him alive… … before that.
“What is your name?”
“… … This is Immobile.”
“What is your last name?”
A little boy named Immobile chuckles.
“I’m not a noble anymore, so I don’t really want to carry it around. In the first place.”
“From the beginning?”
“I never wanted to live as a nobleman.”
As I was making an interested expression, Aveiro, who was behind me, whispered in my ear.
I should say I was a little surprised when I first heard it.
“You were the second son of the Marquis of Delit, a collateral branch?”
“… … .”
“That’s funny. Delit… … You know, right? Marquis Delit spent a lot of warm times with Duke Malone’s wife at night.”
“I know. In fact, it would be expected. Marquis Derit is quite a womanizer, so half of the married women listed on this paper were probably done by Marquis Derit. He was a piece of trash. My mother too… … No.”
I realized this as I watched the guy shaking his head and roughly organizing his words.
Hey, even though he’s a collaborator of Marquis Delit, he really hates Marquis Delit.
