# Chapter 149
—
At Arthur’s words, Massius blinked.
‘…He really came alone?’
It was hard to believe.
After all, how many search officers were stationed above?
‘At least five hundred… and among them, even swordsmen who can wield aura.’
Considering their numbers and caliber, only a swordmaster-level knight could possibly break through the underground prison alone.
‘Then that greenhorn brat is a swordmaster-level swordsman?’
Massius let out a hollow laugh.
No matter how generously he judged it, it simply didn’t make sense.
At that age, to be a swordmaster-level swordsman? That would mean a genius who could be counted on the fingers of one hand in all of history.
Just then, Arthur let out a gasp and muttered,
“Oh. I sense Lord Willet’s scent ahead.”
“…What?”
“Looks like I came to the right place. In that case, could you kindly step aside?”
Arthur’s suggestion made Massius blink.
“…Did you just tell us to step aside?”
“Yes.”
“You, who illegally broke into the underground prison?”
“Yes. Is that not allowed?”
Massius tilted his head.
“Are you… not right in the head?”
Arthur shrugged.
“Not ill, though I was a little odd once.”
“……”
“But I’m fine now, so there’s no need to worry. So, will you move aside, Mr. Pirate?”
Massius answered with a sour expression.
“…From where I stand, you still look abnormal. Instead of being here, you should be seeing a doctor.”
Arthur tilted his head.
“Meaning, you won’t move aside?”
“Of course not. Do you call that a question?”
The moment Massius finished, Arthur raised Beast.
Bang—!
The shot, fired without warning, startled Massius.
But his body moved faithfully.
Chaaang—!
The distinctive scimitar at his waist was drawn, cleaving the air.
At that instant, a small flash burst before his eyes.
Massius’ eyes widened.
‘That tiny pistol has this much power?’
Even without aura, for a bullet to resist the strike of a 7th-circle swordsman?
His face betrayed his shock, though in the end he split the bullet clean in half.
Thunk.
The black bullet fell, crumbling into ash.
Massius felt a sting in his palm and lifted his head.
Arthur, Beast in hand, was blinking at him.
“Oh… To cut down Beast’s bullet, you must be quite something.”
“……”
“Are you an officer of the pirates?”
Suppressing the sting in his hand, Massius replied,
“Strange. Someone in Arcane who doesn’t know me? I’m Massius, Chief of Police.”
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“Hm? So you’re the pirates’ captain.”
“And you must be that legendary mercenary, Donn?”
“Yes. But I’m not legendary. I’ve never done anything grand enough to deserve such a title.”
As he spoke, Arthur raised his hand.
From his palm, blood welled and formed into a blade.
The search officers watching the exchange gasped.
“…What the hell?”
“H-he made a sword from blood?”
“A blood-sorcerer swordsman?”
As their whispers spread, one of the Seven Lords—Hitran—let out a chuckle.
“Seeing that, it wasn’t by chance you killed Balans.”
Rising to his feet, Hitran called to Massius,
“How long do you plan to keep us locked up, Massius? Let us out now. I owe that man a debt.”
“……”
Massius frowned.
Something felt off.
The mercenary Donn.
Like Hitran, he was entangled with him in many ways.
The mercenary who appeared out of nowhere and abducted the crown princess of the Prime Kingdom midway.
Because of him, the Prime Kingdom’s rebellion plan—built with vast sums of money, effort, and time—was ruined, leaving the pirates’ reputation in shambles.
‘So he’s a man I must kill… but still, something is strange.’
So many men.
His own fame as police chief.
These A-class criminals, obviously dangerous at a glance.
Yet before all that, the swordsman showed no tremor.
‘That means he trusts his strength… and I just saw a glimpse of it.’
A single bullet had left his wrist stinging.
Even if that pistol were a special artifact, there was still something hidden.
After a moment’s thought, Massius made his decision and gave the order.
“Open the bars.”
“…!”
“Arm them with their weapons, and cover from behind. Everyone prepare.”
Though the search officers cast nervous glances at the A-class criminals, they obeyed.
Clang—!
The prison doors opened, and four A-class criminals strode out.
Drunk with rapture, they muttered,
“Wow… the outside.”
“Kekeke! Now, women! I need women!”
“Drink… I need drink.”
Last to step out, Hitran couldn’t hide his moved expression.
“…Good. I feel deliriously alive. To think just the air outside could feel this sweet.”
The four A-class criminals stood before Arthur.
Watching, Massius crossed his arms and muttered,
‘Madmen, all of them—but their skills are first-rate.’
Even if that man were a legendary mercenary, he wouldn’t handle them easily.
‘Hopefully, he won’t fall too quickly… then I can take him down along with these criminals.’
Massius smirked and called to Arthur,
“If you’re not legendary, this may overwhelm you. Are you fine with that?”
Arthur chuckled.
“Yes. Looks manageable.”
“Confidence is good. Then…”
Massius’ eyes gleamed.
“Let’s see you survive. If you’re truly that mercenary, you’ll prove it.”
—
—
Arthur looked at the hundred search officers, the four criminals, and Captain Massius blocking his way.
‘Hm… tricky.’
A hundred men at the rear were one thing, but the four criminals and Massius were stronger than he expected.
‘Especially Captain Massius and that one-armed old man. Tremendously strong.’
The malice radiating from them, and the rings of mana he sensed—rarely encountered at such a level.
‘In raw mana alone, they may even surpass me.’
Yet, he felt no tension.
Only: rare, formidable, but nothing more.
‘Since becoming a Swordmaster, the word defeat hardly comes to mind.’
It was an exhilarating realization—that even before such foes, defeat did not arise.
‘Growth. Seven years not wasted.’
Smiling faintly, Arthur twirled his blood-forged sword.
His body, primed with a touch of tension, felt excellent.
From that peak condition, Arthur asked,
“Shall I come to you, or will you come to me?”
Massius jerked his chin.
“We’ll come.”
Gunfire erupted.
Rat-tat-tat-tat—!
Dozens of muzzles spat bullets.
But Arthur had already leapt high.
“Shoot! Don’t let him escape!” a commander yelled.
Muzzles tracked him.
Arthur awakened Julie’s bloodline.
Fwoosh—!
Twin bolts of lightning flared in his hands.
Massius’ eyes went wide.
“…Lightning?”
Arthur hurled them.
Electric currents surged through the prison.
“Aaaaagh!”
“M-my body…!”
“That bastard… he’s a mage?”
Dozens of search officers without mana shrieked and died.
Arthur descended, swinging his blood-forged blade.
Slaaash—!
Like a whip, it tore through chests.
Again he swung, necks falling like autumn leaves.
Ten lives taken in a single stroke.
“What… is that?”
“Magic? Swordplay?”
“Why… are heads severed like sheets of paper?”
Then, three criminals pounced.
Arthur dodged a blade at his waist, sidestepped a thrusting spear.
They cackled madly.
“Kekekeke—!”
“Kill him!”
“Sorry! But I must kill you!”
Drug, women, drink—they were all addicts, raving, swinging their weapons with abandon.
Arthur’s sword danced through the deadly storm, parrying, deflecting, slipping past.
In a blink, dozens of exchanges.
The pace only quickened.
Chachachang—!
Air ripped, space shrieked.
Arthur murmured,
“Hm… I’d rather not waste strength on you lot.”
“…?”
“So forgive me—I’ll end this quickly.”
The drug addict blinked.
“You think you can kill me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Like this.”
Arthur drew Beast and blew his head apart.
“…!”
The other two criminals recoiled.
“A gun—!”
“Coward!”
The rapist and the drunkard roared and lunged again.
Then a blue blaze rose—sword aura.
Arthur, using the dead addict’s blood, bound their ankles.
“…!”
Electric current raced through the blood, seizing their movements.
“What…?”
“This can’t be—!”
Arthur’s blade struck.
Thump.
Three heads rolled across the floor.
The search officers fell silent.
“……”
A suffocating hush descended.
From the shadows, Hitran chuckled.
“…More of a monster than I thought.”
Massius swallowed hard.
‘…Madness. Where did such a man come from?’
To toy with his hidden trump cards like playthings?
Even he couldn’t crush those A-class criminals so completely.
His palms sweated.
Then Hitran proposed,
“…Massius. How long will you watch? I don’t want to die after finally breathing free air. Let’s join hands, just this once.”
Massius’ eyes widened.
For Hitran to suggest cooperation? Unthinkable.
But then he understood.
‘…He feels the danger too.’
After a moment, Massius rose.
“…Don’t drag me down.”
“See that you don’t drag me down.”
Massius drew his emblematic scimitar.
Hitran swung his lone blade.
The search officers gasped.
“T-the Chief himself!”
“The pirate legend! Captain Massius!”
“And beside him, Hitran of the Seven Lords!”
They were men who once thrived in the backstreets of Arcane, when romance and danger lived side by side.
They couldn’t suppress their pounding hearts at such a sight.
The second-in-command of the Seven Lords and the pirate captain, fighting together.
Arthur too, smiled.
“Oh ho. Pirates and a Lord joining forces? Refreshing.”
Hitran sneered.
“When it’s about killing a monster, who cares about friend or foe? Right?”
Arthur shrugged.
“True… but will that be enough?”
“What?”
“Can the two of you really take me down?”
Hitran’s eyes widened.
Massius’ face twitched.
“Your confidence is excessive.”
Arthur didn’t reply.
He sheathed Beast and gripped his blood blade with both hands.
The air shifted.
Whoooosh—!
Winds roared. Mana surged.
Massius and Hitran stiffened.
‘What… is this feeling?’
‘Something utterly chilling…’
Sensing instinctive danger, they braced, aura flaring, about to charge—too late.
Fwoosh—!
The blood-forged blade in Arthur’s hands shed its aura.
Instead, something far more brilliant radiated forth.
Massius and Hitran shouted in shock.
“S-sword force—!”
Not aura, but sword force.
The absolute pinnacle, wielded only by Swordmasters—swordsmen who transcended the 5th circle, chosen by history itself.
And before their eyes, the youth’s blade gleamed with that supreme brilliance.
“Im… impossible!” Massius cried.
Arthur lifted his head.
Their gazes met—Massius shuddered.
‘I’ll die!’
His instincts screamed.
He turned to flee—too late.
Arthur’s sword came first.
Fwoooosh—!
Moonlight infused with sword force cleaved the world.
Blood fountains burst from the throats of Massius and Hitran.
—
