The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 5

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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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5
Chapter 5. Testing a Hypothesis
***
“Ten silver coins.”
Blunt haggling.
The shopkeeper gestured toward the register with a nod.
Hunter supply shops make their living fleecing amateurs, but this one’s different.
Before the Regression, I’d been swindled countless times—enough to know.
There was a kind of back-alley trust here; this place didn’t play tricks with its goods.
Click.
I slung the new Short Sword across my back.
Light. Definitely light.
I bent and examined myself in the full-length mirror.
The look wasn’t bad.
But my instincts as a mage kept whispering that something was lacking.
The blade was short, limiting reach, and the Mana amplification rate was ordinary at best.
‘Can’t I carry both a staff and a sword?’
The idea surfaced suddenly.
“Boss, do you have a Sword Stick?”
“···What?”
The shopkeeper stopped polishing his knife and gave me a look—the way one might eye a patient at an asylum.
“What would anyone want with that half-baked toy? Trying to play Spellsword?”
“Something like that.”
“Get real. I’ve seen a truckload of bastards die in this business mixing swords and staves—jack of all trades, master of none.”
A blunt refusal.
In the post-Regression world, the Spellsword is synonymous with a minor-league nobody.
Magic half-baked, swordwork half-baked. Bring one into a party and you’re nothing but a liability.
Naturally, the Sword Stick—their signature weapon—is treated as worthless garbage.
“Just one thing.”
I swallowed a bitter laugh. He wasn’t wrong.
Your average Hunter couldn’t handle the insanity of running both a Mana Circuit and an Aura Core at once.
The circuits would tangle and blow you apart from the inside.
But I’d walked the halls of the 9th Circle.
Whether rice or chaff, my job is to chew it and swallow it and turn it into power.
“Understood. But throw in one more thing for me.”
I pointed to a sticky note taped beside the counter.
[Mana Backflow Prevention Potion – Instant Effect]
“Ha, look at you buying everything under the sun.”
“You never know what life will throw at you.”
The shopkeeper clicked his tongue and handed over the vial.
I left the shop to the sound of his chuckling.
I might never need it, but insurance is always worth having.
***
Donggureung again.
The air hung heavier than at dawn. The moment I stepped inside the Gate entrance, an ominous tremor rose from the ground beneath me.
Thump—
A pulse like a heartbeat. The mana within writhed as if it had drawn a breath of life.
‘It’s angry.’
My intrusion this morning had stirred a sleeping hive.
I tore through the hidden boundary and slipped inside.
A gust of wind brought dust swirling across my vision.
As the dust settled, the vista before me opened.
“······This is insane.”
Over a hundred.
Maybe more.
Bleached skulls stood in perfect formation, rank and file.
Not a pack of monsters. An army.
A disciplined force with a chain of command.
Click, click, click.
The sound of footsteps in unison tightened around my heart.
In the past, I would have swept away this army with a single finger.
Trash that would vanish without a trace under one 5th Circle Fire spell.
But not now.
I stand on a blurred line between Mage and Swordmaster.
If I left this unchecked, in a year’s time there would be thousands of them.
Knowing that terrible future, I cannot retreat.
I must end this here, now.
[Warning. Enemy numbers exceed projections.]
[Should I secure an escape route?]
Airi’s tone was clinical.
To the calculating eyes of an AI, this would look like a suicide move with no chance of victory.
“No.”
I drew the Short Sword.
Cold metal bit into my palm.
“This is my fight.”
This place is a tomb within my memories.
I cannot borrow another’s hands to cleanse it.
Even if it’s inefficient, this is a kind of ritual for me.
Competitive fire surged through me.
I couldn’t lower my tail before mere bones.
The pride of a Grand Mage and the legacy of a Sword Saint would not permit it.
“Skill activation: Synchronization.”
Crackle—
At the moment I spoke the incantation, my veins expanded.
Mana twisted violently as it transmuted into Aura—a searing agony.
Between bone and muscle, a sensation like boiling magma.
The feeling of fingernails scraping the inner walls of my veins stabbed at my brain, but I held my breath and concentrated.
If I lost focus, I would die.
I had to control the flow of Mana without error.
My right hand blazed hot.
I aimed the sword’s point and chanted a short incantation.
“Wind. Fire.”
1st Circle base magic.
Toy spells that even rookie Hunters could cast.
But if my nature—the trait that links all magic like branches on a tree—
And if it meets the swordcraft of a Sword Saint—
Whisk—
Wind spiraled around the blade.
Red flames rose upon it.
Oxygen-fed fire erupted explosively, wrapping the entire sword in crimson.
The blade vibrated with a deep, humming resonance.
Rumble—
The air inside the Gate grew scorching.
The Skeleton Warrior legion detected the anomaly.
A hundred red eyes turned toward me in unison.
Click, click.
They accelerated their advance.
“…It’ll be quite impressive.”
I lowered my stance.
I drew Mana in to its limit.
The Aura and magic spreading across my body compressed into a single point.
‘Swift strike. Output—ten percent.’
Draw Sword.
The moment I declared it, the world slowed.
The timing: just before the blade touches the enemy, I detonate the flames wrapped around the sword to add acceleration.
Action and reaction.
A precise calculation that converts the explosive force of magic into physical striking force.
Boom—!
It was not a mere slash.
A tempest laden with fire and wind burst forth in a fan of destruction.
The shockwave tore through the stone floor.
Crack—crack—crack!
The skeletons at the front burst apart like popcorn.
Those hit directly crumbled to dust, while those caught in the blast were engulfed in flames and slammed into the wall.
The stone floor buckled, and fragments sprayed outward like shrapnel.
The entire formation collapsed with a single strike.
The skeletons tumbled like dominoes.
“Haa…”
My palms felt as though they were burning.
My shoulders throbbed from the recoil, threatening to dislocate.
The backlash really is intense.
Every joint screamed in protest.
If I hadn’t reinforced them with Mana, my arm would’ve been ripped clean off.
Yet a smile tugged at my mouth.
Success.
The fusion of magic and swordplay.
The moment theory became reality.
Everything I’d drilled in the Hall of Victory was paying off.
But there was no time to savor it.
More than half of them still stood.
Eeeee—
A sinister sound cut through the corner of my vision.
From behind the shattered ranks.
A Skeleton Warrior archer was drawing its bowstring.
Its aim was my heart.
‘That one first.’
The distance was too far.
Running to strike would be too slow.
A normal mage would’ve raised a barrier; a swordsman would’ve dodged.
But I was neither.
‘Or rather, I could do both.’
I tapped the pommel of my Short Sword with my left hand.
I drove Mana through the blade’s edge.
“Energy Bolt.”
A deep hum resonated.
Blue arcs of lightning raced along the blade.
But this wasn’t an ordinary Energy Bolt.
Using the Aura-coated blade as a barrel, I compressed and accelerated the Mana.
Click.
The moment the archer’s fingers released the bowstring.
I swung my sword.
Not cutting.
Shooting.
Bang—!
Like a batter striking a ball.
A condensed bolt of Mana rocketed from the sword’s tip.
Not a slingshot—a railgun.
In that same instant, the archer’s arrow streaked toward my brow.
The Energy Bolt, charged with Sword Force, tore straight down the line.
The two powers crossed in midair.
The difference in mass was overwhelming.
The arrow didn’t even reach me before the shockwave reduced it to powder.
The Energy Bolt lost no speed, driving straight into the archer’s skull.
Crack—!
The skull exploded.
Its cervical spine shattered into fragments, and the body flew backward.
Even the Skeleton Warrior soldiers standing nearby were caught in the blast wave and knocked down.
“…Done.”
The residual light faded from the Short Sword.
I shook out my wrist lightly.
It was admirable, all things considered.
The balance between mana and aura remained stable.
‘Stay calm.’
It wasn’t over yet.
***
What came next posed no real difficulty.
I advanced, crushing the remaining skeletons one by one.
As my senses sharpened, my movements grew cleaner.
Slaughter without waste.
Before long, all hundred-odd Skeleton Warriors had crumbled to dust.
Silence descended.
Yet the Gate’s red light did not extinguish.
“This can’t be all.”
A rule born of experience.
Dispose of the minions, and the boss appears.
A cliché—but a reliable one.
Groooooowl—
The earth trembled.
A vibration of a entirely different magnitude than before.
At the deepest part of the Gate, the earth-mound at the chamber’s heart—shaped like a royal burial tumulus—split open.
Thud. Thud.
Heavy footfalls.
A figure towering over two meters tall.
A commanding general, crowned with a crimson helm, stepped forth.
The screech of corroded scale-mail scraping against itself set my teeth on edge.
Beneath the helm, eyes hollow and void burned with a sanguine glow.
“Your Majesty… I shall protect you…”
Obsession of the dead, leaking from its fractured throat.
The primary architect of the Donggureung Massacre.
‘Skeleton Warrior’
[Warning: Named Monster encountered.]
[Classification: Elite]
“So you were the architect of that slaughter.”
I ground my teeth.
The blood-red Curved Sword gripped in its hand gleamed with terrible beauty.
A blade that had drunk deep of countless lives.
“Your Majesty… please… grant me forgiveness…”
It lowered its torso.
Magic?
Or was it simply charging?
Crack—!
Explosive acceleration.
A speed that belied its massive frame.
In a heartbeat, it closed the distance, its Curved Sword aimed at my throat.
‘Fast!’
Clang—!
My reaction came too late.
I threw my blade up in a desperate parry, but the force exceeded all calculation.
My shoulder screamed as if it would dislocate.
My body hurled through the air.
Screeeech—
I landed hard and skidded backward.
My hands went numb.
The bone-rending vibration rippled through my entire body.
‘Damn.’
A single exchange.
I’d lost the test of pure strength.
With a body at this low level, direct force-to-force combat was impossible.
Center of gravity, muscular power, reach—every physical advantage lay against me.
It was a heavily-armored tank, and I was a foot soldier with nothing but the clothes on my back.
A solid hit would shatter ribs to powder.
The creature didn’t give him a moment to breathe, settling back into stance.
An overwhelming pressure.
But exhilaration came before fear.
“This is fun.”
He drove force through his trembling legs.
Mana honed itself razor-sharp.
The efficiency of Synchronization climbed higher.
The closer death drew, the keener his senses became—the instinct of the battlefield.
The creature’s movements, the seams of its armor, the contractions of rotted muscle.
All information flowed through his mind as pure numbers.
His eyes couldn’t be deceived.
If he couldn’t crush it with strength, he’d bury it with information.
Whoosh!
Flames erupted across his Short Sword’s blade once more.
But this time, not wind.
Blue lightning coiled from his other hand’s fingertips.
Fire. Lightning.
This time, a fusion of flame and electricity.
He focused not on wide destruction, but on penetration—punching through a single target.
Lightning’s speed amplified the explosive force of flame.
“Cut faster—!”
He held his breath.
His entire body compressed like a spring. His foot drove into the earth.
Blue lightning and red flame twisted in a spiral, targeting the creature’s breastplate.
A trajectory no magic alone could ever produce.
Crack!
The sword’s tip met the creature’s crimson armor.
Current burrowed through the seams, and flame detonated.
Boom—!
With a deafening roar, the creature’s body was hurled backward.
A direct hit.
Success again.
But.
When the smoke cleared, his brow darkened at what lay revealed.
The armor was scorched black, but not fractured.
The creature stood unharmed, looking down at him.
“…Mana Resistance?”
A red aura flowed across the top of its helmet.
A resistance option that negated magical damage.
The kind of troublesome thing that scattered 1st Circle magic the moment it touched it.
Not enough physical force, and magic was blocked.
The worst possible matchup.
“You’re tougher than you look.”
His lips twisted into a thin smile.
Mana Resistance? So that’s how it was.
It sounded like his magic was simply weak.
That scraped at him more than a little.
Then there was only one path.
To concentrate enough firepower to exceed the threshold its resistance could withstand, and drive it all into a single point.
“I’ll burn you. Until there’s nothing left but ash.”

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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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