The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 52

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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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52
Chapter 52. Lee Do-hyun the Hunter
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The face revealed beneath the mask was haggard beyond measure.
Skin that had not seen light for years had turned pallid, withered to a dull gray, and his cheekbones jutted out sharp as blades.
The features of the blood-soaked man who breathed in ragged gasps. Over that twisted visage, the phantom of someone I knew superimposed itself.
For a moment, my thoughts came to a halt.
A chill radiating from my chest traveled down my spine to the very tips of my toes.
I had never faced this man directly, not once.
We had never shared drinks and laughter in private, nor crossed through death’s threshold together, our backs entrusted to each other on a blood-soaked battlefield.
Yet I could not fail to recognize this face.
Any Awakened One in South Korea who bore the name of Mage had to encounter this man’s portrait before they ever felt their first surge of Mana.
Lee Do-hyun.
Those three syllables carried within them the entire history of South Korean Hunters. A first-generation Hunter, a legendary S-rank Mage-class Awakened One.
Yet a mere rank could not fully account for the towering monument he had erected.
In that primordial age when Gates first descended upon this land, when even the System’s guidance was still dim—
The Mages of that era were nothing but uncontrollable “primitive cannons,” hurling fireballs into empty air or scattering shards of ice, guided by instinct alone.
Their incantations were crude, their Mana efficiency abysmal, and the uncontrolled surges of their power consumed allies far more often than enemies.
In that age of barbarism, it was he—Lee Do-hyun—who first established the refined order known as “Magical Tactics.”
“An Introduction to Magical Tactics Theory.”
“The Reconstruction of Spell Formulas and Dual-Dispersion Mechanisms.”
“Attribute Wave Analysis of Gate Monsters.”
The dozens of theoretical tomes he authored became the skeleton and scripture of modern magical combat.
The method of using Circle Magic to dramatically shorten incantation formulas, the technique of manipulating Mana vectors to exercise Area control while maintaining ally identification.
All these techniques that Academy freshmen now learned as foundational knowledge were in fact the fruit of his blood spilled in the field, the legacy he forged through trial.
What was more extraordinary still was his character.
Lee Do-hyun never privatized the ultimate mysteries of magic that he had awakened to through mortal peril.
He distributed all his knowledge freely to the world, asking not a single coin in royalties or compensation.
To cultivate Mage-class Awakened Ones systematically, he exhausted his personal fortune to lay the foundation of the Academy itself. For ordinary Hunters who were not Mages, he even compiled guidebooks that decoded the complex Spell Formula patterns of otherworldly monsters.
Spell construction is the lifeblood of a Mage and their greatest power. Yet he willingly chose to become a cornerstone for humanity’s survival.
The number of Hunters who saved their lives thanks to the seeds of knowledge he sowed had grown so vast that statistics could no longer measure it.
A living legacy, revered by the entire world.
Nor was I an exception.
Even in my wretched teens before my return, when there seemed no hope of awakening my Core, I never released his theoretical works from my hands until their pages grew tattered.
I traced each character with my finger, imagining the flow of Mana, and swore that if I ever awakened, I would become a practitioner like Lee Do-hyun.
Even by my present understanding, his genius stood alone. The capacity to construct the very system of magic from nothing but intuition and logic in an age of total darkness.
That was not merely a question of high Mana—it was the caliber of a true “practitioner.”
“…….”
I gazed silently at the wretched state of Lee Do-hyun collapsed on the floor.
Eight years ago from this point in time. He was officially classified as missing. Gate phenomena then were far more unstable than now, and research data desperately scarce.
A deformed disaster that claimed countless missing persons and deaths—the so-called “MIG incident.”
The most bitter victim of that tragedy was Lee Do-hyun himself.
It was an era when the Status Window System was still in its infancy. No one could perfectly predict a Gate’s pacification conditions or the signs of internal space collapse.
Leading the rear detachment into a Gate that had opened in Seoul, he was caught in an unprecedented phenomenon when the Gate suddenly sealed before his objective was even complete.
A hero who vanished without a trace, leaving neither footprint nor corpse.
The world mourned his death, and a statue honoring his noble sacrifice was erected before the Academy.
Thus I believed he had been confined to a single page of history and had made his exit.
Yet here he was, in a corner of this nameless underground labyrinth, reduced to a slave obedient to the whip-blows of monsters.
His hands, which should have wielded the glorious staff, were stained with black grime, and his lips, which should have spoken the ultimate truths of magic, were cracked and bloodied.
A cool fury welled up from my feet. I reached toward the blue metal collar—the Mana Choker—that constricted his neck.
Even in that brief moment of gathering my thoughts, my senses were already dissecting the structure of the Mana flowing within the Choker.
Reading the grammar of the Spell Formula, finding the vulnerable intersection points—the process was almost instinctual.
‘The pattern itself is simple.’
The brainwashing Spell Formula inscribed on the Choker was shockingly primitive. It was neither sophisticated high magic nor any mystical prohibition.
Rather, it was formed by layering that crude formula thousands upon thousands of times, binding it in chains.
Like not a delicate knot but a brutal mass of thousands of coarse ropes wound together mindlessly.
The trace of relentless scraping at brain waves, forcibly imprinting until the subject’s sense of self was completely worn down and shattered.
This was not magic—it was sadistic torture, an insult to the one human who had endured eight years.
I compressed Mana refined to an extreme degree at my fingertips.
There was no time to unwind thousands of chains one by one. I had to strike the core directly and shatter the foundation of his restraints in a single blow.
Blue mana poured from my fingertips, sharpening into a needle-thin blade of pure energy.
As I drove the mana spike into the heart of the Mana Choker, its detection sensor activated and the internal gears began to shriek.
Screech-screech-screech—!
Two incompatible forces of mana collided, throwing up bright sparks.
The original obsession of the brainwashing that had slept within the Choker writhed like a starving serpent, crawling up my wrist.
The unpleasant, viscous sensation of tainted mana seeped across my skin, but the moment it touched the overwhelming wave emanating from my core, it dissolved in white vapor.
‘Open.’
I poured strength into my fingers, twisting the mana spike violently.
Crack-screech—!
A heavy metallic rupture tore through the Underground Factory. The blue chain constricting Lee Do-hyun’s neck shattered like glass, scattering into empty air.
It was the moment when the cursed shackle that had gnawed at the hero’s soul and paralyzed his reason for eight long years finally broke free.
“Grrrraaahhh—!!”
As the Choker burst apart, Lee Do-hyun’s body convulsed upward like a bowstring pulled taut.
A death cry—the kind that might have been dragged up from the depths of hell itself—tore from his shredded throat.
His limbs, which had hung slack for so long, twisted into grotesque angles as he thrashed across the ground.
‘So this is what happens.’
The problem lay in the mana circuits themselves, conditioned by years of brainwashing’s oppression.
The mana that had been forcibly suppressed suddenly broke loose like a dam shattering, and the turbid energies that had accumulated in his body began to surge wildly, without direction.
Crackle! Pop!
His limbs twisted beyond the normal range of motion for their joints.
The blood vessels beneath his skin swelled pitch-black, seeming ready to burst at any moment, while his eyes rolled upward until only the whites showed.
Dark blood gushed continuously from his mouth and nose.
‘Mana Backflow.’
The cruelest catastrophe that can befall a Mage.
The mana that should have circulated through the blood vessels instead flowed backward toward the heart’s core, literally boiling the internal organs and nervous system.
To make matters worse, he had just been directly exposed to my Sword Aura in our battle.
The Sword Aura I had unleashed to subdue him had dealt serious physical damage to his Mana Core.
The recoil from the spiritual restraint being severed combined with the shock of the damaged core, triggering a catastrophic chain reaction within his body that no longer could be stopped.
‘Had I known it was Lee Do-hyun, I wouldn’t have struck so hard.’
I bit my lip lightly, swallowing the brief self-mockery. But it was a moot point anyway.
Even enslaved as he was, he had proven far from an easy opponent to subdue without holding back.
Yet if I left him as he was, the brain of this first-generation hero would melt away completely—either rendering him a vegetable or claiming his life on the spot.
I frantically patted down the inside of my jacket. My fingers brushed against a small glass vial the size of two finger joints.
A High-Concentration Emergency Treatment Potion I had purchased from the Hunter-exclusive shop as a precaution during the Donggureung Gate subjugation long ago.
Fortunately, I still had one.
Pop—!
I tore open the stopper with my teeth and forcibly pried open Lee Do-hyun’s convulsing jaw.
Ignoring the acrid metallic stench of blood seeping into his mouth, I poured the bitter, fluorescent liquid deep down his throat in one desperate push.
Hisssss—!
The moment the potion went down his esophagus, a horrible burst of steam rose from his mouth—like throwing cold water onto a raging fire.
“Khhhaaaahhh—!!”
Lee Do-hyun’s body arched like a bow as he was flung upward from the floor.
The suppressant components collided head-on with the backflowing mana, forcibly clamping down on the circuits—a process accompanied by bone-shattering agony.
His body contracted and twisted like plastic exposed to a hot flame, while the vitality drained from his skin at a terrifying rate.
I dropped to my knees and placed both hands over his chest.
I minutely adjusted the output of Synchronization, refining the pure mana remaining in my core to the utmost gentleness.
Carefully as if handling the finest silk, I channeled threads of mana toward his heart.
“Healing.”
A faint jade-green light wrapped around his chest, barely sealing his torn internal organs and forcibly reconnecting the ruptured blood vessels.
The heartbeat transmitted through my palms was irregular and weak, but it was struggling to find a steadier rhythm.
Minutes that felt like eternities passed.
As the potion’s suppressive effect and the Healing’s emergency care finally aligned, Lee Do-hyun’s convulsing body gradually went still.
The grotesquely swollen blood vessels subsided, and his labored breathing began to take on a faint, regular cadence.
“Phew.”
I wiped the cold sweat trickling down my forehead and let out a short breath.
The immediate crisis was contained, but this was nothing more than a temporary reprieve from the worst-case scenario of his brain melting away.
The fundamental destruction of his core and the nerve damage from the backflow existed in a realm that ordinary healing magic or inferior potions could not repair.
Specialized, advanced mana surgery was urgently needed.
Crash—!!
A deafening roar erupted behind me as a massive structure collapsed.
When I turned my head, the Mirror Golem, draped in silver absolute defense, had the Elite Ogre’s neck—a creature vastly larger than itself—ruthlessly clamped in its grip, smashing it repeatedly against the wall.
Crash! Crash!
The Ogre, already drained of all will to fight, had become a pulp leaking blood, yet the Golem continued to drive its skull into the concrete floor relentlessly, a machine devoid of emotion.
The surrounding area had already descended into chaos—corpses of Ogre subordinates and shattered mechanical debris strewn everywhere.
“Airi, that’s enough.”
The moment my terse command fell, the Mirror Golem’s massive frame, which had been about to snuff out the Elite Ogre’s life, suddenly liquefied and collapsed in an instant.
The rigid metal armor shattered in midair into countless glittering fragments, transforming into a breathtaking swarm of brilliant silver butterflies that adorned the empty space with ethereal beauty.
The butterflies, dancing in formation as they converged, coalesced back into a single form and returned to their original shape—Lunaris—gently landing upon my shoulder.
[Successor, the situation has concluded.]
[Who is this man? His vital signs are critically unstable.]
“There’s no time for explanations. Listen carefully to what I say from now on.”
I carefully lifted Lee Do-hyun’s body and secured him firmly on my back. His frame was lighter than I’d expected.
The thought that eight years had stripped even a hero of his weight left a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Activate the Status Window’s secure message function. Transmit it directly to Kim Dae-han.”
Airi, following my instruction, displayed a translucent hologram window in the air. I compressed the situation as much as possible and sent the information through Airi’s transmission terminal.
[Lee Do-hyun Hunter confirmed alive. Personal safety secured. Currently critical condition.]
This brief sentence alone couldn’t fully explain the true nature and tragedy of this massive Underground Factory, but Kim Dae-han, with his sharp instincts, would immediately grasp the meaning between the lines.
To prevent the true nature of this horrific laboratory from falling into the hands of external media or corrupted forces like the Hunters Association, the most certain method was to have Kim Dae-han, South Korea’s foremost barrier specialist, come directly and seal off the site at its source.
As an expert in Incubation-type Gates, he would be more than qualified to handle the contaminated Mana remnants left behind in this place.
[Yes, Successor. I’ve applied multiple concealment codes and sent the transmission immediately. Awaiting response.]
“Good. You stay here and monitor the situation until Kim Dae-han arrives. Don’t let a single Kobold escape.”
Airi blinked and nodded as if in understanding. Then she cast a curious glance at the blood-soaked man on my back and asked.
[Understood. However, Successor, given this man’s condition, even the process of escaping this place could prove fatal.]
[Where exactly are you going?]
At Airi’s question, I gripped Lee Do-hyun’s thigh firmly and cast my gaze toward the Gate exit visible through the gaps of the collapsed ceiling.
“The Hunter Examination Ground.”
[What? That location doesn’t match the current situation.]
“That person is there.”
Bang—!
I concentrated Mana into the soles of my feet. The ground beneath me collapsed under the immense pressure. Using the recoil of my Aura, my body rocketed upward, propelled by the debris of the ruined plaza.
With a sound that split the air, I shot toward the Gate’s exit.
Because when it came to forcibly sustaining the life of someone dying and bringing them back, there was only one person who was the true expert.

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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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