The God-Possessed Swordsmanship Genius - Chapter 12

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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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Chapter 12 — The Sword Spirit’s Chosen Prodigy

The silence didn’t last long.

Puh.

Someone who couldn’t hold it in let out a snort, and laughter erupted from every corner of the room.

“Hahahahaha!”
“Heh, hah-hah!”
“What’s this punk babbling about?”
“Says he doesn’t want to be around scum like us?”

Allen looked over the men who were roaring with laughter.
Fifty or so of them.
There was no other way out. Aside from the door at his back, there wasn’t a single window in the room large enough for a person to squeeze through.

“Quite the speech for a righteous knight, aren’t you?”

Shing—

Osbal, who had been sneering along with his men, drew a massive axe.
A thin wariness flickered in his eyes. Unlike his underlings, who were simply laughing, he harbored doubts about this situation.

“I don’t think you came here for money. So who sent you? Did you come alone?”
“You lot aren’t worthy of an answer.”
“You’re still running that smart mouth to the very end—”

Osbal barked at the top of his lungs.

“What are you all doing? Are you going to keep standing there listening?”

At Osbal’s words, his men began to move.
They fanned out in a wide arc around Allen. It was a formation born of the fear that he might be a swordsman of real skill.
Whether he cared or not, Allen stood with his back to the door, as though no one would be leaving this place.

“Kill him!”

The moment Osbal’s command rang out once more.

“Aaaaah!”

With a battle cry, one man charged at Allen and brought his axe crashing down.

Swish!

The sound of wind cut through the air just after.
The charging man came to a halt. He sensed something was wrong.
Why couldn’t he move his body?
The comrades watching him from around the room gasped in shock.
From his crotch to the top of his head, a crimson line split the man’s body.

Shiiiing.

The man’s body parted to either side, revealing what lay beyond. The others faltered, overwhelmed by the corpse that had appeared in an instant.

He was cut clean through in a single stroke? No one had even seen the blade move, yet it had sliced through flesh and bone alike.
It had been only one strike, but the Cheolsoe-hoe men gathered in the warehouse could tell that this single move was anything but ordinary.

“What are you doing?!”

Osbal urged his men on.

“Are you going to stand there gawking until you’re all dead? It’s just one man. Charge him all at once! Or you’ll die by my hand!”

Osbal no longer looked down on Allen. Having seen that his opponent’s skill was extraordinary, he had no choice but to press the attack with sheer numbers.
Perhaps the men feared Osbal, who was close at hand, more than Allen, who stood at a distance, for they all lunged at Allen at once.

Swish.

Allen vanished from the spot right after that.
Every direction had seemed sealed off, yet Allen disappeared as if he were a mirage.
It was a dazzling footwork.

The startled men hurried to find him. If they failed to locate their opponent, they would be the first to fall.
Then, in that instant.

Kwaaaaak!

Once again, the same whistling wind rang out.

Seongsin-ryu, First Form.
Bora.

With a sound that tore through the air, the sword sped forward and sliced through the arms and waists of the men blocking its path.
Arms were severed, shoulders and waists were cut open. It happened in the blink of an eye, like a gust of wind brushing past.
In an instant, a storm of blood swept over the men who had charged at him.
Aaaaagh!
Screaming, the men who had rushed forward rolled across the ground.
No one followed up with another charge. Allen had simply reappeared in the very spot where he had vanished.
They understood clearly from that single exchange.
This was no green swordsman. This young swordsman was the real thing, come here to take their lives.

“Father said to eliminate the Sect Leader, but I think differently.”

Shwak—

Allen flicked the blood off his sword onto the ground out of habit. The blood on the blade sprayed across the floor in a single straight line.

“There’s no need to spare the rest of them.”

Among the many men before him, Allen made no effort to figure out which one was the leader.
The one who had shouted for them to kill him looked like the leader, but it didn’t matter much.
He was going to kill them all anyway.

“I said it before, but I hate scum like you. One of you lives on and torments hundreds, and kills dozens.”

Allen took a step toward them.
I’ll kill every last one of them.
Killing intent that carried that very resolve poured off Allen’s body. Osbal stumbled backward and shouted.

“S-stop him!”

The order to kill had changed.
Realizing his opponent was a foe of such strength, Osbal’s aim had shifted to simply surviving.
But Allen had no intention of letting a single one of them leave this place alive.

“Consider yourselves honored.”

Gooooh.

“After all, it’s my first time using it.”

Mana gathered along Allen’s sword.
For the first time in his life, a form infused with mana unfolded from his blade.
The First Form, Bora, was one he had performed countless times, but from the Second Form onward, the Bishuken-ryu relied on mana.

Seongsin-ryu, Second Form.
Sonagi.

Shwaaaah.

The wind grew fierce.
It wasn’t the kind of wind a sword could stir up by simply swinging it.
This was real wind, Sword Qi woven from mana.

Kwaaaek!

It shot from Allen’s blade like an arrow loosed from a bow and tore into the men who stood in its path, cutting them to ribbons.

Pukagagak!
Puhwak!

The floor and ceiling of the warehouse split open, and a storm of blood erupted. Flesh and blood mingled with the wind’s Sword Qi. Their screams were swallowed by the howling gale.
The form swept through the warehouse. When the wind finally died down, corpses lay scattered across the floor, their bodies torn apart.
It looked exactly like a downpour of Sword Qi had fallen on the room.
A single form had wiped out half the men inside the warehouse.

“Huh…?”
“What just happened…?”

The men who had somehow escaped the Sonagi stared back in dazed disbelief.
Allen, too, hesitated for a moment.

‘So this is the Second Form, Sonagi.’

He had understood the forms in theory, but this was the first time he had actually used one.
Unlike the First Form, Bora, the Second Form of Bishuken-ryu swordsmanship required mana.
The power of the form exceeded his expectations. Its reach was impressive, but the raw force alone was remarkable.
Of course, Bishuken swordsmanship had the drawback of devouring a great deal of mana.

‘With the mana I have now, two or three times at most.’

But for now, that was more than enough. Mana was something he would keep gaining from here on out, after all.
Once that happened, he could unleash the form more often, and perhaps even wield higher forms.
And if he could perform every form of Bishuken without limit?

‘I’d be invincible.’

If the Second Form alone was this powerful, what kind of swordsmanship could Father wield? To Father, this would probably look laughably trivial, wouldn’t it?
Now I finally understood why Father was called the greatest swordsman on the continent.

Clench.

His grip on the sword tightened on its own. The joy of unleashing Sonagi for the first time and the anticipation of growing stronger still surged through him together.
But that joy was short-lived.
Fear spread through the warehouse, a beat late.

“Gah, ah—!”
“M-monster!”

To their eyes, Allen looked like a monster.
If a swordsman who cut down dozens with a single stroke wasn’t a monster, then who was?

“R-run… we have to run…”

Swish.

Leaving the lingering echo of his first form behind, Allen surged toward the men trying to flee.
Without a trace of hesitation, he was fast.
Weighed down by flesh and fat, the men were moving in a different time from him.
Each time his blade flashed, one head after another was severed without fail. Whenever something round went sailing toward the warehouse ceiling, it was a human head.

Osbal watched his rapidly dwindling men with bewilderment.

‘What on earth is going on here?’

It had happened so suddenly that he could scarcely believe it. The shock was so great that it felt strangely unreal.
His men had already lost the will to fight and were scrambling only to escape. Allen chased them down, cutting them off one by one.
Then, the moment he realized only a handful of his men remained—

‘A hostage!’

Osbal grasped at his last hope.

‘If that fellow is a knight dispatched from the Empire, he won’t ignore a hostage.’

With that thought, Osbal’s hand shot out toward Meiran.
His plan had been to grab her by the hair first and press a blade to her throat.

Shuaaak.

Seongsin-ryu, First Form.
Bora.

Kaat.

A gust of wind, followed by a chilling sound of cutting.
In Osbal’s eyes, he caught a glimpse of a thick arm spinning through the air.
He refused to believe it, yet it was—

‘My… arm?’

Allen, who had been keeping Meiran in his awareness the whole time, had read Osbal’s movement and lunged in an instant.

“Aaaaaargh!”

Drip, drip, drip.

Blood gushed from the severed stump. Osbal collapsed to the floor, clutching his shoulder.
When he lifted his head, Allen was already standing between him and Meiran. All the men who had been there moments ago lay sprawled across the floor.
Cold sweat beading on his brow, Osbal flattened himself against the ground.

“P-please, spare me, Sir Knight. Please spare me.”

Seeing him save Meiran, Osbal became certain of one thing.
This young man before him had to be a knight of the Empire, acting out of chivalry.

“I was wrong. From now on… from now on, I’ll live a good life. Please….”

But he had misjudged the man in front of him.

“If I were a knight of the Empire, maybe I’d have believed that.”

Shing!

Allen’s sword cut through Osbal’s neck in a single stroke.

“But we’re not that sort of people.”

Thud.

Osbal’s head hit the ground. Allen lightly kicked the head that had rolled to his feet.
Just then.

[Mission complete.]
[All stats have increased by 2.]

With a cheerful chime, Allen felt fresh vigor welling up inside his body.
Not only his mana, but his strength, agility, and stamina all rose together. The reward was anything but small.

‘This is far better than several months of training.’

Even his mana alone showed a clear difference.
A form he could barely manage two or three times now came off cleanly three times in a row.
I was growing fonder of this System by the moment. Allen smiled with satisfaction and turned his head.

“Are you all right?”

At that, Meiran jumped and lowered her head.

“I-I’m fine! I’m fine.”

Her face had gone pale.
She was more afraid of the Allen standing before her than of the Cheolsoe-hoe men.

“Your face is badly hurt. And the wounds aren’t small.”
“No, I’m really….”
“Don’t be silly. Ah, first, put this on. Your clothes are all torn.”

Allen took off his outer robe and draped it over Meiran.
Wrapped in the garment still warm from his body, and meeting Allen’s calm eyes, Meiran’s trembling stopped as if by magic.

Just moments ago, Allen had looked like a killer to Meiran. She had trembled in terror as he slaughtered dozens in a single exchange and cut down men without a flicker of hesitation.
But could these really be the eyes of a man who had massacred dozens?
Believing her turn had come and that she had given up on everything, tears suddenly poured from Meiran’s eyes.

“Uhhh, thank you, thank you so much.”

Allen patted her shoulder and helped her up. Then he supported Meiran, whose legs had gone weak, and led her out of the warehouse.
Outside, the coachman was waiting with the carriage ready.
Spotting Allen, the coachman got up and came running.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Hiiik!”

The coachman, checking on Allen and Meiran, was startled out of his wits.
Through the wide-open door, he could see countless corpses lying strewn about.
Cheolsoe-hoe wiped out in such a short time?
It was an absolutely unbelievable display of skill.
For a moment, Allen looked like a completely different person.

“Do you happen to know a decent tavern nearby?”

Unable to hold off any longer, Allen clutched his stomach and spoke up.

“That took a lot out of me, and I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat on the way.”

Before long, Allen was back to the Allen from last night, the one who had shared a meal with him by the campfire.
The driver, who had been tense only a moment ago, broke into a bright grin.
He nodded vigorously.

“Coachmen always know the best places to eat. And I’ll buy the meal!”

With the Cheolsoe-hoe gone, the two of them no longer had to fret over debts. The driver felt like he could float straight up into the sky.
Once the two passengers were aboard, the driver quickly gathered the reins. The carriage lurched into motion, its wheels turning briskly.

And atop that carriage, Allen flexed and unflexed his hands, savoring the lingering feeling from earlier.
The sensation of pouring his Mana out all at once and unleashing a formidable form.

‘I need more Mana.’

As he replayed that sensation, his greed only grew stronger.
He wanted to accumulate more Mana. He wanted to unleash even more powerful forms. He wanted to become stronger still.
To do that, he needed an elixir. He had to obtain the treasure said to lie within the dungeon, the Star Flower.

Allen’s gaze drifted outside the carriage, toward the city below the mountains that came into view.
With this, the errand his father had given him was finished.
The carriage truly began to race toward the dungeon, Allen’s destination.

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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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