The Archmage’s Swordsmanship Is Too Strong - Chapter 99

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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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99
Episode 99. Guild Invictus
***
The air, heavy with predawn moisture, cut cold through my coat.
Early morning at Paju Station was quiet. Only the occasional screech of metal on rail and the distant mechanical monotone of station announcements broke the silence.
With each step down toward the platform, the Black Iron Sword strapped diagonally across my back pressed its dead weight against my spine, vertebra by vertebra.
It was more than mere heaviness. It was the stubbornness of iron refusing to move with my body’s momentum, the foreign sensation of metal not yet synchronized with flesh.
Without slowing my pace, I reached back with my right hand.
The coarse texture of the leather grip—roughly wound—brushed my fingertips.
For days I’d severed the necks of countless beasts, drenched myself in their hot blood, and let my hands wear their mark into the steel. Because of that, the blade’s center of gravity and the arc of my strikes had finally begun to settle into the realm of sensation.
But it was only compromise, and there remained an impossible distance between this and the perfect unity I ultimately sought.
The sharp clarity of impact that travels through bone when the blade connects, and the conductivity I feel when I draw Aura from the deepest part of my core and smooth it across the edge of the steel.
“I miss it a little.”
The Dragon-Head Sword I used before was smooth and sharp as a natural extension of my own body in that respect.
But the Dragon-Head Sword had a fatal weakness. It couldn’t withstand the monstrous output of Multiple Magic I forced into it, nor the physical recoil that erupted in a single frame.
Eventually, that sharpness crumbled against the hard wall of durability.
The crude Black Iron Sword now hanging at my back possessed the opposite property entirely.
When I tried to channel Mana into it, it resisted with a stubborn, suffocating dullness.
It was metal that choked off the flow of magic like a massive dam, yet it carried an extreme tensile strength that preserved its form even in the heart of any magical explosion.
A Mana conductivity that could withstand the savage destructive force of magic without buckling.
And a supreme durability that could execute the Ultimate Swordsmanship of Kang Tae-yoon without delay or distortion.
I needed one weapon alone to bridge those two contradictions. A bridge to connect the opposing forces of magic and swordplay.
That was the only reason I’d handed over an enormous sum without hesitation to Go Gwang-sik, the master smith of the ruined Gwigeokcheol Foundry.
The legendary blades known as the “One Stroke” series.
Until I actually held one in my hands, this crude Black Iron Sword was nothing but an excellent shackle I’d placed on myself and a painful training tool to harden my body.
Yet the moment I received word from Go Gwang-sik, an instinctive grip tightened imperceptibly in my hand around the Black Iron’s hilt—an impulse I couldn’t hide.
Thirst always waits for its moment of satisfaction.
***
Before boarding the train, the air outside Paju Station’s ticket booth was damp.
Having been covered in blood and dirt inside a Gate all night, my body felt heavy as lead. Every fiber of muscle was crying out for rest.
The hoodie and jeans I’d grabbed from a nearby shop after a quick change were comfortable enough, but apparently the intensity in my eyes visible beneath the pulled-down cap was harder to conceal.
“You’re a Hunter, aren’t you? Your License, please.”
The ticket booth clerk looked me over and spoke. His gaze naturally drifted to the handle of the Black Iron Sword jutting from my back.
“Yes.”
I pulled out my Hunter License and slid it across.
The plastic card glided smoothly across the counter and reached his hand.
The moment he confirmed that gleaming credential, his pupils trembled slightly.
The suspicion and wariness in his demeanor shifted in an instant to careful, deferential courtesy.
“Ah, A-rank. Confirmed.”
The clerk tapped rapidly at his monitor, fingers hurrying across the keyboard.
“Hunter, I’m terribly sorry, but… there is just one seat left in the Hunter-exclusive private car. However, the situation is a bit…”
The clerk’s expression grew troubled as he trailed off.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well, some Hunters from a large guild came in a group at dawn to book tickets. They said their transport vehicle broke down. They’ve essentially chartered an entire car, and if you go in, it will be quite loud and uncomfortable. I’d prefer to seat you in general class, but…”
The clerk’s gaze returned once more to the Black Iron Sword at my back.
“General seating doesn’t really have the space for large equipment like yours. And we’ve had complaints from other passengers, so…”
“Then give me the private car.”
I cut off the clerk’s explanation and made my decision. There was no need to burden someone doing their job with an awkward situation.
Cramming into noisy Hunters seemed easier than getting caught up in petty disputes with civilians over equipment issues.
“Yes, thank you! I’ll issue your ticket right away.”
The clerk handed over the ticket with visible relief.
What I needed on the ride home wasn’t comfort anyway—just a brief doze.
A body that could catch sleep even in the mud of a Gate where otherworldly beasts wailed and a comrade’s blood sprayed.
Human noise was no obstacle to my rest.
Hiss—
The heavy automatic door of the private car slid open with a judder and vibration.
As soon as it opened, a stench so acrid it burned hit the back of my nose and stabbed into my lungs.
Sweat, thick copper blood, and the artificial, sickly-sweet reek of Mana Recovery Potion hung sticky and unventilated in the sealed compartment.
Everyone filling the car wore heavy combat gear on a white base.
And emblazoned blatantly across their chests and shoulders was a vicious skull mark.
Invictus.
The symbol that had entered along my optic nerve dragged a name from the corner of my cerebral cortex where it lay buried.
A group that had dominated the Hunter ecosystem through vast capital and overwhelming force.
The strongest and most vicious guild—one that chose profit over pride, plunder and vested interest over honor.
Judging by the broken equipment scattered across the floor and the exhaustion etched into the faces of its members, they had just completed a raid on a medium-sized Gate nearby and were returning.
“Damn it. This place is cramped as hell. What’s the transport team doing? Won’t even arrange a vehicle for us?”
“Tell me about it. Like we’re gonna take the train looking like this.”
Burly men tossed their weapons carelessly about, talking loudly and recklessly. Equipment lay scattered so chaotically that even passing through the aisle was difficult.
“Don’t post it on social media. It’s embarrassing.”
Cutting through the noise, a woman’s voice—calm yet sharp—crossed the cabin.
“Once we arrive, I’ll buy everyone a round. Now let’s all organize our gear and sit down, yeah? There are civilians in the forward cars. Don’t shame the Invictus name.”
At her single word, the members who had been murmuring erupted in cheers.
“Yes! Vice-captain, you really mean it?”
“You got me. Sung Min, make a reservation at our usual place.”
The atmosphere flipped in an instant. Soft yet decisive control that snuffed out the chaos in a single breath.
I checked the seat number on my ticket and navigated between the piles of luggage.
‘Of course.’
Bad premonitions never lie. As I approached my seating area, the density of equipment strewn across the floor only increased.
Someone’s blood-stained greatsword and a cracked breastplate encircled my seat like a fortress.
From within that heap of gear, a woman who had been wiping down equipment with a towel sensed my presence and looked up.
“Oh my, could it be…”
Her eyes wavered as they appeared between the long strands of her hair.
“That’s my seat.”
I held my ticket up to her gaze. Her eyes dilated ever so slightly, then narrowed.
I had no desire to exchange words or squabble. I was simply exercising my right.
“Oh! Yes, I’m so sorry. You guys, clear this stuff out for them right away. They need to sit down.”
She rose from her seat without bothering to hide her confusion, smiling awkwardly. Then she gathered her weapon and shifted across to the seat facing me.
With nowhere to put the bulky Hunter equipment, she forced it between her legs.
“Damn.”
A member beside her shot me a glance and, looking displeased, planted himself in the empty seat across from us. The air grew cold again.
I sat in the vacated seat and feigned looking out the window, all while scrutinizing her features peripherally, dissecting them.
There was no doubt. She wore the emblem of Invictus now, but I knew this face intimately.
Lee Ji-su.
Before the Regression, the most trusted colleague of Kang Tae-yoon and a core force of the Blade Guild—a woman.
Blessed with sharp intuition and overwhelming talent, she had been a steadfast ally watching his back on the battlefield, and at the same time, his lover.
She who would one day rise to the rank of an S-Rank Hunter representing the Republic of Korea now existed in this twisted present as the second-in-command of Invictus.
‘The trick of the Regression Stone.’
Once the great gravitational center that was Kang Tae-yoon vanished, Invictus—having spotted her talent first—got to her one step ahead.
A chill spread through one corner of my chest, but I let nothing show on the surface.
“Hey, you there.”
It was then. A massive, shaven-headed man sitting diagonally across from me jerked his chin and addressed me. Naked hostility glinted in his eyes.
“Sung Min, knock it off. Just confirm the reservation.”
Lee Ji-su tried to stop him, but the man called Sung Min didn’t back down.
“Vice-captain, just a moment. If the seat’s a bit tight, couldn’t we share it a little more flexibly? We busted our backs clearing gear after finishing the raid, and you’re sitting there being all stubborn about it like this?”
The bald man’s thick neck veins bulged.
“I see.”
Instead of answering, I pointed with my finger to the empty space at my feet.
Even with my legs stretched out, plenty of room remained. I was saying there was space enough for a few more bags.
I didn’t want to waste energy on trivial issues with these people. I was tired, and I didn’t want to spoil this anticipation I felt about going to see Go Gwang-sik.
“No, no! It’s really fine. We overstepped.”
Lee Ji-su hurried to wave it off and smooth things over. But Sung Min’s expression grew more menacing.
He seemed to have decided that my indifference was an insult to him.
“Hey, you.”
“Are you talking to me?”
“Yeah, you. What’s with that tone of voice? You’re embarrassing people.”
I slowly pulled my back away from the seat cushion. Then I met his pupils head-on.
“What’s wrong with my tone?”
“You got a smart mouth, you bastard. When people are being nice, why don’t you get the hint and scram? Can’t you read the room? What guild are you from?”
Sung Min rose from his seat and stepped close to me in one stride. His massive frame blocked my view.
Coarse breathing accompanied it, and a thick Aura began to swirl throughout the cabin.
He extended his thick hand as if to grab me by the collar.
At the sudden noise and killing intent, the eyes of other members resting in the cabin snapped toward us in unison.
‘What should I do.’
Should I twist and shatter the radius and ulna between those reaching wrists.
Or should I inject Mana directly between his third and fourth cervical vertebrae to cause total paralysis.
Tens of thousands of restraint formulas materialized in crystalline clarity within my mind. Invictus. Those who worshipped only the logic of power and trampled the weak.
Those cowards who turned their backs first when humanity stood at the threshold of annihilation.
I had never possessed patience for them. That cold sensation from when I severed Lyu Ting-long’s neck began to stir once more from my fingertips.
“Hey, Sung Min!”
In that instant, Lee Ji-su’s sharp cry cut through the cabin. It was not a mere shout. It was a shriek drenched in terror.
“Vice-captain! This bastard started first…!”
“Quiet.”
Lee Ji-su’s face had drained of all color, pale as blank paper. Her gaze was fixed not on Sung Min, but on me.
More precisely, on the intangible force that had begun to shimmer faintly around my body.
“Vice-captain, what’s wrong? Just because of some small-fry like this…?”
“Sung Min.”
Lee Ji-su’s voice dropped low. It was not a command, but a warning.
That primal, beast-like gleam in the eyes that emerges only when one senses death on the battlefield. Her instincts had never been wrong.
“I’m not joking.”
Sung Min’s hand froze in midair.
He stared at the vice-captain with a confused expression, unsure what was happening, but the moment he saw the deep terror crystallized in Lee Ji-su’s eyes, he shuddered and trembled.
“I… I’m sorry.”
Sung Min huffed and roughly gathered his bag from the floor. He fled to an empty seat toward the rear of the cabin like a frightened animal.
“Sir, I sincerely apologize for the disturbance. Our team’s discipline was lacking.”
Lee Ji-su bowed respectfully to me.
Her shoulders trembled faintly. She carefully perched on the edge of the seat across from me.
Though the noise in the cabin had subsided, the space between us was seized by a silence heavy as a vacuum.
Lee Ji-su sat rigidly, her hands clasped upon her knees, head bowed.
Her gaze remained fixed on the edge of her combat boots, and her struggle to steady her labored breathing was unmistakable.
A suffocating silence so profound that even a falling pin would sound like thunder.
‘This is a problem.’
The quarrel itself presented no difficulty.
I turned my head toward the window of the rattling train.
The real problem was that for the remaining hour before we reached our destination, I would have to sit across from a ghost of my past in this thorny, unbearable silence.
Across the expressionless face of my reflection in the window, the afterimages of the railway streaked past at speed.

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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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