Level -99 Archmage - Chapter 42

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 42. Recruitment Test
There was no mistaking it.
The long scar running across his lips was a strong declaration that he was the Tyrant King, Im Chang-yeol.
‘Was Im Chang-yeol the one who founded the Seoul Union?’
Now he understood why the man had gone to such lengths to conceal his identity.
Having immersed himself in the criminal underworld from childhood, he would naturally have preferred to remain hidden.
If Han Sin represented light itself in the public consciousness, then Im Chang-yeol was darkness and shadow.
Yet Im Chang-yeol had been one of Han Sin’s most openly defiant rivals.
‘He hated the stench of hypocrisy,’ Park Chan-woo thought.
Im Chang-yeol had despised Han Sin from the beginning.
From the moment Han Sin began playing the hero, helping people and basking in their adoration.
Im Chang-yeol had sensed the hypocrisy instinctively and kept his distance.
Their spheres of influence were distinct enough that direct conflict had been rare.
The problem arose when Han Sin began crafting his grand narrative as the “Great Hero,” effectively erasing Im Chang-yeol’s existence.
Befitting his title as the Tyrant King, Im Chang-yeol was audacious—anyone who bared their fangs at him once would never find forgiveness.
But to those within his circle, he gave everything.
Perhaps that was why.
So many followed him.
All of them willing to stake their lives on his behalf.
Even those who had achieved the maximum level dared not dismiss the name of the Tyrant King.
Because his bodyguards would smile and die at his command.
Light and darkness.
Water and oil.
That was the relationship between Han Sin and Im Chang-yeol.
Both were leaders of vast factions.
As their forces clashed with increasing frequency over time, Han Sin manufactured a pretext to suppress Im Chang-yeol and his organization.
‘Han Sin had accused Im Chang-yeol of trafficking in drugs and human beings—when in fact Im Chang-yeol enforced the strictest prohibition against both.’
A trap carefully laid over long years.
Im Chang-yeol had fallen into that trap.
After Im Chang-yeol died at Han Sin’s hands, South Korea descended into complete chaos.
The state’s functions had long since collapsed, but the security that Im Chang-yeol and his faction maintained by controlling the underworld had kept things from spiraling entirely out of control. With that gone, order crumbled.
In truth, Park Chan-woo had taken no interest in their struggle at the time.
‘…I was too busy trying to survive.’
Park Chan-woo held a similar position to Yi Hyeok-soo, the Sword King.
Men who took little interest in others and preferred to move alone.
Having switched classes to mage relatively late, he had been consumed with filling the gaps in his abilities.
“Are you Kim Byeong-han?”
Im Chang-yeol asked, his gaze fixed on Park Chan-woo.
One of them had to be Kim Byeong-han, and when the other emerged from behind without flinching, Im Chang-yeol’s suspicions shifted.
Most would have shown fear upon seeing the scar across his lips.
Yet Park Chan-woo met his stare directly, unintimidated.
“I am Kim Byeong-han.”
“Ah? Not this one?”
A voice from beside him.
Im Chang-yeol turned his gaze to Kim Byeong-han, his tone carrying a note of surprise.
‘Damn it. How long has he been there?’
Startled by the sudden appearance, Kim Byeong-han tried to mask his reaction with composure.
But looking into Im Chang-yeol’s eyes, he couldn’t help but feel instinctively cowered.
‘What kind of eyes are those…!’
Im Chang-yeol’s gaze was far more menacing than the scar running across his lips.
Kim Byeong-han had met countless people through his work, but never before had he encountered anyone whose presence felt quite like this.
Kim Byeong-han steeled his eyes.
Once you faltered in presence, it was over.
He was, after all, an invited guest.
It was the Seoul Union that needed him, not the other way around.
Im Chang-yeol raised a hand, gesturing toward Park Chan-woo.
“And who is this one?”
For some reason, his attention seemed drawn more toward Park Chan-woo than toward the man who had been invited.
Kim Byeong-han frowned slightly as he spoke.
“Park Chan-woo. He’s my subordinate.”
“……Is that so?”
Im Chang-yeol tilted his head slightly, puzzled.
‘He doesn’t seem like the type to serve under someone.’
He had a keen eye for people.
And he set great store by first impressions.
His assessment of someone hinged on how they conducted themselves in his presence.
In Im Chang-yeol’s judgment, Kim Byeong-han was a coward playing at boldness—the way his eyes darted about betrayed a scheming nature, someone who bullied the weak.
Park Chan-woo, by contrast—the man Kim Byeong-han had introduced as his subordinate—made an impression of pure impassiveness.
He didn’t startle. He didn’t retreat.
In all his years, Im Chang-yeol had encountered fewer than five people who met his gaze with such composure.
Im Chang-yeol shrugged slightly.
“Allow me to reintroduce myself. I’m Im Chang-yeol, the leader of the Seoul Union. I’ve heard your abilities are considerable.”
“They’re not without merit.”
“Your Level is fifteen, I believe? That’s higher than mine.”
At the news that Im Chang-yeol’s Level was lower than his own, Kim Byeong-han felt tension flood his shoulders.
If the Union leader’s Level was inferior to his, the rank and file would hardly be worth considering.
“You intend to lead the assault on the Tower of Arrogance yourself?”
“For now, I’m thinking of assembling a party around those with proven skill. What weapon do you favor?”
“A sword.”
“Fair enough. Though we do have several swordsmen in our ranks.”
“Are they higher Level than me?”
“Lower, it appears.”
“Then I’m your man.”
“That’s why I’d like to put you through a small test. Would that suit you?”
“No objection.”
Kim Byeong-han nodded confidently.
Im Chang-yeol let out a soft laugh.
“I like your boldness. Go ahead and choose a weapon from over there.”
He pointed to a large wooden chest.
The chest was brimming with weapons of every description.
Kim Byeong-han’s eyes widened.
He’d assumed the test involved something related to the Abyss.
“You mean to conduct the test here?”
“One bout against me will suffice.”
“……?”
Kim Byeong-han fell silent, utterly blindsided by the suggestion.
He’d never imagined the Union leader himself would propose a direct confrontation.
Yet Kim Byeong-han was confident.
His Level was high, and his equipment was of superior grade.
“None of these swords appeals to me. I’ll use my own.”
“Fair enough.”
Kim Byeong-han drew from his Inventory a magnificent Golden Sword.
An artifact of Epic Grade, no less.
The cheap, low-quality blades in that chest would shatter the moment they clashed with his blade.
“Impressive—quite the ornate sword you’ve got there. Well then, I’ll take this.”
Im Chang-yeol casually plucked a Rusty Dagger from the wooden chest.
He wore no other equipment whatsoever.
Kim Byeong-han’s expression hardened at the sight.
A clear display of contempt.
Union leader or not, wasn’t he being presumptuous?
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you if you’re wounded.”
“It makes no difference to me if you kill me—just fight with all your strength.”
Kill him?
Did he truly believe he wouldn’t be able to?
“If I actually do kill you and it causes complications?”
“No such thing will happen. I stake my Union on it.”
“Understood.”
Kim Byeong-han felt a smirk tugging at his lips.
The difference in Level was absolute.
There was no way equipment acquired from the Abyss could withstand a corroded dagger from the mundane world.
Above all else.
‘I can see every Sword Path.’
Kim Byeong-han was a holder of the Secret Class.
A swordmaster.
The very name spoke of someone skilled with a blade.
To Kim Byeong-han’s eyes, every movement of his opponent and every arc of the weapon became visible.
No matter how skilled Im Chang-yeol was as a swordsman, he could not overcome the countless blessings of the Abyss.
In a one-on-one match, Kim Byeong-han was invincible.
“Shall we begin then?”
Im Chang-yeol’s eyes hardened.
A sharp breath escaped him.
And in that instant, Kim Byeong-han extended his leg forward.
Strike first, strike true.
In any fight between humans, half the battle belongs to whoever attacks first.
The blade hissed through the air.
Kim Byeong-han’s sword cleaved the empty space.
Im Chang-yeol slipped aside with fluid grace and drove his dagger toward Kim Byeong-han’s ribs.
The blade struck with a sharp ring.
But it glanced off.
There was no way such a low-grade dagger could pierce Kim Byeong-han’s armor—it was absurd even to imagine.
The dagger twisted in a spiral.
Im Chang-yeol rotated his wrist and blade in acrobatic flourishes.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The dagger hammered against the armor in succession, the metal ringing hollow but dealing no real damage.
Fast, certainly, but the gap in level and equipment was simply insurmountable.
‘I’ll win this.’
The opening that came after the first attack failed.
Yet Im Chang-yeol had gained nothing from exploiting it.
Kim Byeong-han felt at ease.
A difference in level meant a difference in attributes as well.
Forcing the dagger in would only strain his own wrist.
With a metallic ring, Kim Byeong-han calmly parried the incoming dagger.
He knew exactly what Im Chang-yeol would do next.
Every movement was transparent to him.
The fact that the dagger hadn’t shattered despite being struck was unexpected, but already the recoil alone was wearing Im Chang-yeol down.
The blow must have felt like his wrist ligaments were tearing.
Even if they simply exchanged blows for the rest of the match, he would emerge victorious.
After a few more exchanges of steel,
‘It’s useless, utterly useless.’
A yawn threatened to escape him.
Im Chang-yeol was merely repeating futile gestures.
His movements were certainly impressive, but even when an attack landed, it dealt no real damage.
Hubris invited ruin.
Had he properly equipped himself from the start, he would never have found himself in such an embarrassing position.
Once this duel ended, the tide would turn.
If fortune favored him, he might even swallow the Seoul Union itself.
The dagger whistled as it cut through the air.
‘Pointless, I tell you.’
Bent low, Im Chang-yeol unleashed his strike.
Kim Byeong-han didn’t even consider blocking.
The blade bit deep.
A wet sound followed.
“Hack—?!”
Kim Byeong-han gasped in shock as the blade drove deeply into his flesh.
It was impossible.
The dagger had found its way through an impossibly narrow seam in his armor.
That tiny gap between plates.
Not a deep wound, but the unexpected blow buckled Kim Byeong-han’s knees.
As he half-collapsed to the floor, the dagger was already at his throat.
“How… how is this possible?”
A reality she couldn’t bring herself to believe.
When Kim Byeong-han asked, Im Chang-yeol answered as if it were nothing remarkable.
“Equipment from the Abyss has something called ‘Durability.’ Your armor had worn down quite a bit. You must have fought the same way in the Abyss—relying on the armor, never dodging.”
He was right.
She’d fought continually without sidestepping, trusting the armor to protect her.
That was why its Durability had suffered so much wear.
“When Durability wears down, it creates gaps. Even if there’s no visible difference on the surface, if you can find those worn spots, you can pierce through easily enough.”
That was why Im Chang-yeol had kept tapping the armor.
He’d been searching for the sections where Durability had degraded.
But talking about it was one thing—actually doing it was another matter entirely.
To find those spots instinctively, relying only on pure sensation, seemed almost absurd.
If such a thing were possible, you’d have to be a monster.
The Tyrant King, Im Chang-yeol.
He was a monster.
“Your level is high, but your actual skill is lacking.”
Im Chang-yeol shook his head with a hint of disappointment.
Kim Byeong-han was far too dependent on equipment.
His swordsmanship itself left much to be desired.
“You said your name was Park Chan-woo? Are you planning to take the Recruitment Test as well?”
Level meant little in a place like this.
What Im Chang-yeol sought was pure skill.
The ability to respond instantly, anywhere, under any circumstances—that came not from level or equipment, but from keen instinct and true mastery.
Park Chan-woo nodded.
‘If the Alliance Leader of the Seoul Union is the Tyrant King Im Chang-yeol, that changes everything.’
He’d been planning to enter the Tower of Arrogance quietly, alone.
But if his opponent was truly the Tyrant King Im Chang-yeol, that plan was worth reconsidering.
‘I handle a sword quite well myself.’
Though he was posing as a mage now, Park Chan-woo was originally a barbarian warrior and a knight.
One without peer in the human realm—save for transcendents beyond the boundary like Han Sin or the Sword King Yi Hyeok-soo.
The strongest in the human world.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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