Sword Master With One Strike Kill - Chapter 271

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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One-Strike Kill Swordmaster Episode 271

Episode 271. Ill Fate (4)

* * *

Ravenhil.

Literally translated, it means Hill of Ravens.

True to its name, the sky over Ravenhil was always stained black.

『Caw, caaaw─!』

Ravens flying in flocks so thick they covered the crimson sunset.

Their eerie cries echoed in all directions, and their sharp beaks restlessly searched for food.

So why did so many ravens gather at Ravenhil?

The reason was simple.

‘Because corpses were scattered everywhere.’

Monster carcasses.

Human corpses.

A hill formed by the accumulated remains of all kinds of creatures rotting away. On this land reeking of decay, the ravens feasted to their hearts’ content, again and again.

And.

At the very top of that horrific pile of corpses, the masters of that domain had taken their place.

“The Soul-Splitting Sword Master….”

Jeungmu muttered in a low voice.

Pssshhh-.

Steam hissed from his body, rougher than usual. Through his monocle, his eyes held deep displeasure.

“Damn it.”

He glanced at Adelia and let out a sigh.

“This is going to be unnecessarily troublesome.”

Adelia had been unable to manage her expression since earlier, her hands clenched into tight fists.

Crack-.

Her knuckles were white from the force of her grip. Her trembling pupils were filled with rage.

“….”

I remained silent for a moment.

Looking back through Middle Temple’s history, there had only been two instances where heretics faced Sacred Inquisition.

The most recent trial’s defendant was none other than ‘me.’

I had been brought to trial on charges of forming an alliance with the Five Nightmares and acting as the leader of the Shadow Conclave.

Though I was ultimately found innocent, the process had been far from smooth.

‘And the second time….’

The masters of Ravenhil.

The Soul-Splitting Sword Master.

They were the first heretics in history to be brought before Sacred Inquisition.

The charges were clear.

The crime of massacring members of the Goldhart Family.

“….”

Swish-.

I turned my gaze to look at Adelia.

Her entire body was trembling slightly.

Whether it was anger, fear, or perhaps both, some emotion was weighing heavily upon her.

『Filthy hypocrites. Stop making excuses and humbly accept death.』

This was a story that had come up several times already.

In the future, Adelia would kill one of the Twelve Sword Masters and take their place as one of the Strongest Characters in the World.

And.

‘Now….’

The turning point that would change Adelia’s life was slowly approaching.

* * *

“Hmm.”

Professor Biyolf pressed both hands to his forehead and let out a long groan.

On his desk lay an official document bearing Middle Temple’s seal.

He had read this letter repeatedly over the past five days, but these were still matters he couldn’t easily decide on.

Whew-.

A sigh escaped him.

Over the past few weeks, there had been no shortage of hair-pulling incidents.

‘…To think Vilopozy was attacked by worshippers of Evil Gods.’

The document’s contents were clear.

A plan to relocate the dwarves of Vilopozy, who had become refugees due to the worshippers of Evil Gods, to Wintershield.

The letter was packed with detailed benefits they would gain from accepting them.

The craftsmen’s technical skills. The possibility of recreating lost technology. Research advancement through collaboration with the Magic Academy.

‘It’s not bad.’

Right.

Up to that point, it made sense.

‘No. From a long-term perspective, it would actually be a project that brings great benefits to Wintershield.’

In fact, Professor Biyolf was also in favor of accepting the dwarves from Vilopozy.

Setting aside personal feelings about them being his hometown people, bringing skilled craftsmen into the city was an undeniably good thing.

Moreover, Wintershield was one of the most prosperous major cities on the continent.

This meant it wasn’t so small that an additional influx of hundreds of dwarf refugees would cause administrative difficulties.

‘However….’

The problem was the schedule.

‘…Why is it so rushed?’

Middle Temple’s position was that they wanted to hold a meeting with the leaders of the three major powers in two weeks, then complete the relocation as soon as possible afterward.

It was too hasty.

Normally, such large-scale relocation plans required at least several months, sometimes even years of preparation.

Route selection. Escort force composition. Plus budget negotiations – there were countless matters to discuss.

So why were they rushing the schedule like this?

Biyolf had spent several days with such questions.

Then this morning.

An urgent communication arrived.

Intelligence that worshippers of Evil Gods were preparing a full assault on Wintershield Magic Academy.

“….”

Biyolf remained silent for a long while.

Eventually, he spoke with difficulty.

“Taragon.”

“Yes.”

Assistant Taragon, who had been standing beside him, quickly responded.

“What do you think about this situation?”

“Which part are you referring to?”

“All of them.”

Tap, tap-.

Biyolf said this while lightly tapping the official document.

“What we’ll be discussing in today’s meeting isn’t pros and cons. This matter has already been decided, more or less.”

It was essentially Middle Temple’s coercion. Having come all the way to the Holy City, Wintershield had neither justification nor reason to refuse.

“What we’ll be deliberating is the situation ‘after’ accepting the dwarves. Where to settle them. What facilities to provide. How to establish a collaborative system…”

“…”

“So what I’m asking you isn’t about whether to relocate or not.”

Biyolf raised his gaze to look directly at Taragon.

“This overall situation. The attack on Vilopozy and the urgent schedule. And even the intelligence about a full-scale offensive against Wintershield. I want to hear your insight on all of this.”

Taragon possessed an intellect so sharp it was hard to believe he was of slave origin.

His wisdom often surprised even Biyolf, and his talent for magic was tremendous as well.

That’s why his opinion was needed in such complex situations.

“…”

Hearing Professor Biyolf’s question, Taragon fell into thought for a moment.

Turning his gaze toward the window, he stood silently for a while before slowly opening his mouth.

“There were words The Protagonist spoke during the emergency council meeting.”

“…”

“He sought to unite all major forces of this continent as one, even if it meant eliminating the Traditionalist Faction, in order to prevent the world’s destruction.”

“…”

“Everyone harbored doubts about those words at the time, but The Protagonist actually eliminated the Traditionalist Faction. Jark von Haibrunn died, and the forces that followed him were uprooted entirely.”

Biyolf nodded.

He already knew that fact.

The great purge within Middle Temple. An event where centuries of accumulated corruption and betrayal were severed in one stroke.

“After that, The Protagonist fostered close relations between Middle Temple and Wintershield.”

Taragon paused briefly before adding.

“And in this Vilopozy mass migration project, he’s trying to bring in even the Ruin Guild, which holds hegemony over Dawnguard.”

Silence flowed.

Biyolf pondered Taragon’s words.

Looking at each point individually, they were all facts. And all these events had occurred within just a few months.

“Then your thoughts are…”

Biyolf asked cautiously.

“That The Protagonist planned all of this from behind Middle Temple, and his goal is to use the mass migration project as a foundation for uniting forces?”

“No.”

Taragon shook his head.

“It’s not my thoughts or speculation, Professor.”

“…?”

“It’s a clear fact.”

Taragon’s eyes were resolute.

“And it’s not simply about uniting major forces. As stated in the official document, the mass migration is likely a project considering multiple benefits.”

Biyolf pressed his lips together tightly.

Taragon was right.

The Sword Master called Gaon wasn’t someone who moved for just one goal.

He hid multiple layers of intent in every action, achieving several results simultaneously with one plan.

“Then.”

Biyolf continued with his questions.

“If all of this is The Protagonist’s plan, what do you think is the reason for such haste? Why not proceed with the mass migration after planning more thoroughly?”

Taragon stared into space for a moment.

It was a silence that seemed to organize his thoughts.

Eventually, he opened his mouth.

“The Worshippers of Evil Gods attacked Vilopozy. And immediately after that, as soon as the mass migration project document was issued, intelligence was obtained about a full-scale offensive against Wintershield.”

“That’s right.”

“This shows a clear causal relationship. The Worshippers of Evil Gods are wary of Vilopozy’s residents, or the technology they possess, for some reason. Otherwise, there would be no reason to target Wintershield immediately after attacking Tunnel Village.”

Biyolf nodded.

“Then what would happen if we took our time preparing plans here?”

Taragon’s voice dropped a notch.

“That would also give the enemy more time and preparation. The Worshippers of Evil Gods are already targeting Wintershield. If we spend months crafting a perfect plan, they too will spend months preparing a perfect attack.”

“…”

“Additionally, you know this too, Professor. That Worshippers of Evil Gods are hidden within Middle Temple as well.”

Biyolf’s face hardened.

It was true. Worshippers of Evil Gods were hidden everywhere, and Middle Temple and Wintershield were no exceptions.

“The longer we deliberate, the more perfect our plans become, the greater the risk of information leaking. Internal traitors would report all our preparations to the enemy.”

Taragon caught his breath briefly before reaching a conclusion.

“How about proceeding with the plan quickly to eliminate preparation time for both the Worshippers of Evil Gods and Middle Temple? Dealing with situations as they arise through improvisation would be The Protagonist’s thinking.”

Silence flowed.

Biyolf pondered Taragon’s words.

Examining each point, it was logical.

Rather than establishing perfect plans, not giving the enemy preparation time might actually be safer.

Above all.

‘Internal traitors…’

Considering that variable, Taragon’s argument gained even more persuasive power.

“Remarkable.”

Biyolf let out an admiring sigh.

Looking at just the conclusion, it seemed like nothing special. But reaching that conclusion was the more difficult part.

Yet Taragon had accomplished it. Quite persuasively at that.

“How should I put it.”

Biyolf chuckled as he continued.

“It feels like your brain and The Protagonist’s are connected to each other.”

“You flatter me.”

Strawberry Latte answered thus while looking at the translucent window before her eyes.

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.

‘Brains connected to each other, huh…’

Come to think of it, it might not be entirely wrong.

Because.

[Middle Finger] : …answer like that.

[Strawberry Latte(Me)] : (b˙◁˙ )b

In fact, all Strawberry Latte had done was recite the note Gaon had sent, word for word.

* * *

The meeting with the Relic Investigation Team had ended.

The conclusion was clear.

To head to Ravenhil in order to explore the Rashutku Ruins.

After replenishing necessary supplies, it was decided to depart in two days with the Relic Investigation Team’s top members.

Thud, thud-.

Only the sound of footsteps walking along the corridor broke the silence.

I began moving toward the guest room the Relic Investigation Team had arranged, and Adelia followed me from one step behind.

“Did you know?”

“What do you mean.”

“….”

Adelia remained silent for a moment, then opened her mouth.

“Did you know we would encounter my enemy in this expedition… that is, the Sword Masters of the Divided Soul?”

Of course I knew.

That had been one of the objectives from the beginning.

The moment when Adelia would face her past and overcome it. That was precisely the turning point I had planned.

I didn’t bother to deny that fact. Nor did I affirm it. I simply continued walking silently.

Thud, thud-.

Adelia seemed to take my silence as confirmation.

She spoke again.

“I started to notice when you made those meaningful remarks at Middletemple.”

“….”

“Suddenly asking about my purpose for taking up the sword, telling me stories you had never shared before…”

Emotion began to seep into her voice little by little.

“Lord Gaon.”

My footsteps stopped. Adelia stopped as well.

“What on earth are you thinking?”

“….”

Her voice trembled.

“What do you want me to do?”

Silence flowed.

Faint footsteps echoing from the end of the corridor. The sound of a door closing somewhere. Only such sounds filled the silence.

“There’s a thought that sometimes occurs to me.”

Adelia continued slowly.

“Lord Gaon… you don’t seem to see us as the same kind of people. Sometimes. Very occasionally, I wonder if you regard us as chess pieces moving according to your plans.”

Her eyes wavered.

“Of course, thanks to that, I’ve grown this quickly. I, who struggled before low walls, became strong enough to face Sword Masters in just four months.”

Clench-.

She made a fist.

“But.”

Her voice trembled thinly.

“I’m gradually becoming afraid of what lies at the end of all these plans.”

Adelia looked at me and asked with a sincere voice.

“Lord Gaon.”

Her lips trembled.

“At a time when my feelings of revenge have faded and I’ve just found a new goal… what is your reason for leading me to that enemy?”

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