# Chapter 153
—
Kyeon and Arthur faced each other.
“……”
A heavy silence weighed down on the battlefield, and tension seeped through the air.
Both the rebels and the search police, caught in that oppressive atmosphere, instinctively took a step back.
Because of that, a vast circular space opened between Kyeon and Arthur.
Once the stage was set, Kyeon muttered.
“Yeah… ever since your name started spreading, I’ve always been curious.”
Arthur tilted his head slightly as he stared back at him.
“Curious about what?”
“Your true identity. Some call you the legendary mercenary, and some call you Arthur Bayern.”
Arthur smiled faintly.
“Hm… and which one do you think I am?”
“Does it matter? Either is good for me.”
Kyeon let out a coarse chuckle.
“If you’re the legendary mercenary, then crushing the rebels’ morale will be satisfying. If you’re Arthur Bayern, then I’ll have a fine offering to present to His Excellency Cain Dormund.”
“Oh? Is that so? Then how about both?”
“Both? Then that would be—”
Kyeon suddenly opened the three jaws on his three heads.
Black fire spewed forth from all three mouths at once.
Startled, Arthur leapt aside to evade, and Kyeon roared as he unleashed his flames.
“That’d be just fucking perfect, you bastard! Why even bother asking?”
As the flames chased after him, Arthur narrowed his eyes.
The black fire seemed to carry some kind of tracking enchantment—it doggedly pursued him even after he moved away.
After a brief thought, Arthur drew out the black bullet he had prepared.
*Clack—!*
It was a special round, forged from the souls and corpses of those slain by beasts.
He loaded the bullet into his gun, aimed at Kyeon’s flames, and pulled the trigger.
*Boom—!*
The two forces clashed in midair.
Kyeon’s eyes widened at the sight.
‘What? A mere pistol round… blocked my hellfire?’
Then he sensed a presence at his back.
Startled, Kyeon whipped his head around—only to find Arthur Bayern had somehow already closed the distance.
Twisting his body, Kyeon thrust his gauntlet against the blood sword aiming for his throat.
*Crash—!*
With an explosion of force, Arthur was shoved backward.
Lowering his gaze, Kyeon saw his hand trembling violently.
‘Damn… this guy’s strength is no joke.’
Moreover, Kyeon had wrapped his gauntlets in aura—proof that he too was a swordsman beyond the 5th Circle.
‘Not a sword, but gauntlets… so he’s a martial artist?’
Among the rare martial artists, there were those who could channel aura into their fists like swordsmen.
Arthur stroked his chin as the thought occurred.
‘Hm… troublesome.’
He had expected difficulty, but a martial artist of 5th Circle or higher was more than troublesome.
He lowered his head briefly, glancing at his chest.
The aftermath of the underground prison battle was catching up—his mana reserves were running low.
Of course, running out of mana didn’t mean he couldn’t fight, but Arthur wasn’t planning to end this battle with a mere victory.
‘For Master Willet’s revenge. To achieve that, I need to utterly crush Kyeon…’
Lost in thought, he hesitated. Then his lips curled upward.
‘No need to drag this out. I’ll finish it in one decisive blow.’
It wasn’t a bad conclusion. It would save mana and deliver Willet’s revenge at the same time.
Just as Arthur lifted his head, Kyeon’s eyes twitched.
“You little shit! Did you just laugh?”
Arthur blinked.
“Hm? Am I not allowed to?”
“…Of course not! Think you can smirk just because you blocked one of my flames?”
“Not exactly… hm.”
Arthur twirled his blood sword lightly.
“Truth is, I was thinking about how I should kill you. Guess I couldn’t help but smile.”
Kyeon’s eyes flared.
“What? Still spouting that bullshit?”
“It’s not bullshit. I mean it.”
His brow furrowed—and in that instant, his body vanished.
“…!”
Startled, Arthur leapt backward.
A split second later, a fist slammed into the spot where he had stood.
*Boom—!*
The ground shattered, vibrations rippling like an earthquake.
Arthur let out a low whistle at that raw power. Then Kyeon pressed the assault.
*Whoosh—!*
The air split as his fists rained down.
So fast and precise they left afterimages, forcing Arthur to react at equal speed.
Noticing this, Kyeon’s brows twitched, and he pushed himself faster.
The air warped, a gale erupting.
Finally, his fists began grazing Arthur’s body.
Feeling those hits land, Kyeon smirked. He was about to push even faster when Arthur muttered:
“Hm… impressive skill.”
“…?”
“Still, it’s clear dragging this out won’t do me any good. Then again, no fight ever does.”
Kyeon barked a laugh.
“This bastard’s still bluffing?”
“It’s not bluffing, Kyeon.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Arthur smiled warmly.
“It means I acknowledge you.”
“You son of a—”
“That’s why I’ll give it my all. Against you, Kyeon.”
With those words, Arthur raised his blood sword high.
The strike forced Kyeon backward, sliding across the ground.
“…!”
His mouth fell open—he hadn’t expected to be the one pushed back.
Spinning his sword in his grip, Arthur gave a chilling warning.
“Please don’t die just yet, Kyeon. You don’t deserve an easy death.”
And with that, Arthur’s aura shifted.
Kyeon’s eyes widened slightly—then moonlight burst forth.
Startled, he instinctively stepped back.
‘What the hell is that? Why is moonlight pouring out of his sword?’
Aura? Magic? No… neither.
‘Bloodline power, maybe?’ No, it didn’t look like that either.
Then a memory resurfaced—an image of a man swinging a sword wreathed in moonlight.
Kyeon’s jaw slackened.
“…A Sword Master?”
At that moment, the moonlight surged.
He tried to dodge, but it was too late.
*Slash—!*
A geyser of blood erupted as something fell away.
He looked down, lips trembling.
His gauntleted arms lay on the ground, twitching like freshly caught fish.
A shudder wracked his body.
“…Fuck.”
Things were going wrong. Terribly wrong.
And then the Sword Master’s blade was upon him.
—
—
Arthur’s strike sent Kyeon sprawling, rolling clumsily across the ground.
“Graaaagh—!”
From his three throats came a desperate wail.
“S-stop! Stop!”
But Arthur didn’t stop.
Expressionless, his sword danced, carving more wounds into Kyeon’s body.
The cuts weren’t mere slashes—they were severing blows. Blood gushed from every fresh line.
‘How… how is this possible? He’s wielding sword force…!’
That shimmering moonlight cloaking his blade was proof—aura, the mark of a chosen swordsman.
Only Sword Masters possessed it.
‘He’s a Sword Master? One of the ten Sword Masters in the entire continent?’
It didn’t make sense. Those ten couldn’t possibly be here.
‘Then… is he a new Sword Master?’
The realization chilled him. No ordinary swordsman could wield that light.
And so, for the first time in ages, fear flooded his body.
‘Swordsmen who face a Sword Master… only death awaits them.’
Arthur’s blade surged again.
He rolled away desperately—but even so, a gash split open across his chest, blood spraying.
‘If it had gone just a bit deeper… I’d be dead.’
He shuddered—then a stench hit him.
Arthur paused, sniffing.
“…?”
Not blood. Urine.
He looked up—and there it was, dripping from Kyeon’s trousers.
“Oh?”
Arthur burst out laughing.
“Scared, Kyeon? Pissed yourself like a dog.”
Kyeon said nothing.
Arthur spun his blood sword, moonlight scattering like droplets.
It was beautiful—but Kyeon only felt dread.
He would die beneath that light.
Shaking, he snarled:
“…No.”
“…?”
“No! I won’t die here!”
His battered form suddenly changed.
*Crack—!*
Fur sprouted over his mangled body. Severed arms regrew as bestial claws. A tail ripped through his soiled trousers.
Arthur blinked in surprise.
“Oh? You actually turned into a dog.”
With a monstrous roar, Kyeon transformed fully—into a three-headed beast.
\[Graaaagh—!]
The sound made onlookers clutch their ears in agony, blood trickling from them.
“…Aaagh!”
“My ears—!”
“What the hell is this?!”
Arthur narrowed his eyes.
‘A low-frequency roar? Interesting.’
Drool dripped from the beast’s maws, hissing as it melted the ground.
“Tch. That’s disgusting. Can’t keep your drool in? Weak jaw muscles, maybe?”
\[…Graaaagh!]
Roaring, Kyeon lunged.
Arthur met him with his moonlit blade.
*Slash—!*
The moonlight surged forth—but Kyeon split into three bodies.
\[Graaaagh!]
One was obliterated by the strike, but the remaining two rushed Arthur.
He countered instantly, slashing one more apart.
But the last beast sank its jaws into his neck.
*Crunch—!*
Blood spurted skyward.
The crowd gasped.
“He bit his neck—!”
“No! That’s the end!”
“Nothing survives those fangs—they dissolve everything!”
And indeed, Arthur’s neck began to melt.
Kyeon’s eyes gleamed with triumph as he cackled.
\[Keheheheh!]
\[In the end, I win! Sword Master or not—survival decides the victor!]
He lunged to finish Arthur—only for Arthur’s hand to clamp around his scruff.
\[…!]
Stunned, Kyeon thrashed, but he couldn’t break free.
Pain radiated from his nape, draining his strength.
Arthur smirked.
“Knew it. You really are a dog. Grab your scruff and you quiet right down.”
Kyeon trembled.
\[H-how… how are you alive?]
“Me?”
\[Yes! I bit your neck…!]
Arthur tapped his neck. Kyeon’s eyes shot wide—his wounds were gone, healed completely.
Kyeon let out a hollow laugh.
\[Shit. You’re a monster too.]
And then Arthur hurled him skyward.
“…!”
The massive wolf-like beast soared into the air.
Moonlight swelled around Arthur’s blade, brighter than ever.
It bathed the square in radiance.
“Rest now, Kyeon. Next time, be reborn a man, not a beast.”
He swung.
The moonlight exploded, engulfing Kyeon.
Not even a scream escaped before his life was snuffed out.
The light didn’t stop—it ascended, splitting the dawn sky itself.
Norse, watching from afar, gasped.
“…What?”
The morning sky, painted with drifting clouds, parted cleanly in two where the moonlight pierced.
His eyes welled with tears.
“Those who stand at the pinnacle of the sword… can even cleave the heavens.”
And at last, he whispered with awe:
“A Sword Master.”
Julie too, overcome with emotion, covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Before her lay the bisected corpse of the monstrous governor who had ruined Arcane for five long years—Dormund’s Kyeon.
At last, he was dead.
Her stifled sobs filled the dawning air.
Arriving late and witnessing it all, Jeannie sat down heavily with a faint smile.
“…As expected of you, Young Lord.”
Her gaze lifted—there stood Arthur Bayern, cloaked in moonlight.
“Once again… you’ve done the impossible.”
And then, the rose-emblazoned flag of Dormund fluttered away into the heavens.
Jeannie’s breath caught.
“…It’s over. Finally.”
The long night had ended. A new tomorrow had come.
After seven years, Arcane was free from Dormund’s grasp.
Tears welled in Jeannie’s eyes—then cheers erupted.
“Waaaaaahhh!”
She turned—citizens of Arcane were shouting one name.
“Donn! Donn! Donn!”
“The legendary mercenary Donn—!!!”
“He defeated Dormund—!!!”
It was the name of the man who had saved Arcane.
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