Solo Swordmaster – Chapter 132

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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Both Ryu Kang-chul and Vellus underwent significant transformations after invoking ‘Constellation Descent.’

However, compared to Eugene, who experienced the most drastic change of all, their transformations were insignificant. In terms of ability, circumstance, and mentality.

Crash! Boom! KABOOM!

“Hahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

The black mist shredded. The world trembled like a toy. Razor-sharp killing intent exploded.

Gone was the hoodie. A bear skin cloak now draped over Eugene’s shoulders. Mechanical gauntlets and boots, thicker than her limbs, protected her elbows and knees. Leather straps loosely bound her chest, exposing her slender waist.

She wielded a massive hammer, once a simple guitar, in one hand, laughing maniacally.

The thrill of shattering obstacles. The ecstasy of blood boiling in her veins. The euphoria of overwhelming power. Her vision swam in crimson, laughter erupting from her throat.

KABOOM! Crack!

“Agh!”

“Focus your psionics! We must not break formation!”

The symphony of explosions, screams, and shouts filled her with glee.

What would normally be a cacophony of noise was now fuel for the inferno raging within her mind, melting and fusing into a twisted melody. It was a song, a hymn of madness composed of screams, laughter, and destruction.

‘More, more, more!’

For a sharper thrill. For a deeper melody. For more blood.

Eugene’s rampage intensified, unstoppable.

Bang!

“Ugh!”

“General Manager!”

Finally, she reached the old insect, frozen like a fly in a spiderweb.

A wave of pressure sent him reeling, coughing blood. She shattered his outstretched arm, ready to crush him with her hammer…

“‘Octagonal Barrier.’”

Bzzzzzt!

Eight shimmering barriers materialized, blocking her hammer. It was a momentary reprieve.

Eugene’s hammer, imbued with divine power, shattered the barriers like pie crusts and slammed into the ground. But in that instant, the old insect had vanished.

“I was asked to observe and only intervene if the situation became truly dire…”

A calm voice echoed from above, replacing the old insect.

“It seems that time has come.”

Dressed in a white suit, his hair covering one eye, a single lens glinting in his spectacles, he radiated an aura that made even the current, bloodthirsty Eugene tense.

“Everyone, stand down.”

The insurance Limon had arranged for the Leviathan’s protection. The reason Li Chingwei could confidently send Limon to the affiliates. The primary culprit behind Guardian’s massive expenditure.

“As per the security contract between Infinity Guild and Guardian, I will take over from here.”

The Master of Infinity Guild. One of the ten great Monarchs.

The Infinite Monarch, Lee Cheon-gi, drew his sword, his expression calm as ever.

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Clang!

Grand Duke.

A title once reserved for the rulers of small nations.

However, after the Player Association adopted the five-rank, ten-grade system for classifying players based on level, the term took on a new meaning.

A noble beyond the five ranks. A being on the cusp of monarchy. A future Monarch, or a lesser Monarch. A player above Level 90.

Kagang!

Grand Dukes were individuals whose abilities rivaled, or even surpassed, those of Monarchs in their respective fields.

Their influence often exceeded that of Monarchs within specific regions. This held true in terms of combat prowess as well. While a Monarch might prevail in a one-on-one duel, two Grand Dukes posed a significant threat, even to a Monarch.

Five or more were said to be capable of challenging even a Returning Monarch.

So, what if one hundred Grand Duke-level players joined forces?

The consensus was unanimous.

‘One hundred Grand Dukes could kill a god!’

Followed by a caveat.

‘…Though, that’s impossible.’

It was a self-evident truth. High-level players were rare. Grand Dukes, each leading their own powerful guilds, wielding authority akin to royalty, rarely cooperated in such numbers.

Not to mention, there were only a few dozen players above Level 90 in the first place.

Yet, at this very moment, this hypothetical scenario was unfolding.

Ryu Kang-chul, with his hundred clones, each possessing Grand Duke-level power, was assaulting Limon.

[Die!]

[I’ll carve you up a thousand times!]

It was a tidal wave of steel, an avalanche of blades, a storm of death. A hundred steel giants, nearly three meters tall, an unstoppable force of nature.

Yet, the human standing against this tide seemed almost out of place.

Deflecting scythes, dodging tackles, tripping giants… Limon faced the onslaught with calm precision. Like a mountain weathering a storm, or an ocean absorbing a tsunami.

And like any force of nature, Limon wasn’t merely a passive recipient of their attacks.

Swish! Crash! Boom!

One slash, a head severed. Another, a chest pierced. A third, a body flung aside.

His swordsmanship was nothing short of miraculous, cutting down Ryu Kang-chul’s clones, each armored and moving at Grand Duke-level speed, with single strokes.

Facing a hundred-to-one disadvantage, his skill bordered on the supernatural.

[Kill me if you can.]

[Kill us a thousand times, ten thousand times.]

[In the end, you will be the one to fall.]

But it was all for naught. For every clone destroyed, another appeared. Two replaced every two slain. No matter how many Limon cut down, the number of steel giants remained constant.

It was the tyranny of numbers. The simplest, yet most terrifying force in the world.

[You’re too arrogant!]

[Sword Master or not, you’re just a swordsman!]

[You’re a has-been for a reason!]

Ryu Kang-chul gloated. Perhaps a Monarch could have countered him.

Their Absolute Skills defied natural law, turning the impossible into reality.

Just as Ryu Kang-chul endlessly produced clones, the Infinite Monarch could have unleashed thousands of skills, and the Summoning Monarch could have summoned an endless army.

But Limon was just a swordsman, a relic of a bygone era, who knew only how to wield a sword.

[Struggle all you want.]

[One mistake, and it’s over!]

Ryu Kang-chul was confident.

Victory was assured. Unlike him, with his infinite clones, Limon had only one body, one life. No matter how skilled his swordsmanship, he could only kill one at a time.

He could never defeat an endless horde. Ryu Kang-chul, on the other hand, only needed to kill Limon once, no matter how many times he died.

The outcome was clear.

Even Limon, as a human, would eventually make a mistake. All Ryu Kang-chul had to do was push until that moment.

[Let’s see how long you can last!]

Ryu Kang-chul pressed his attack, eager to carve Limon into pieces.

[It’s useless!]

Ten, twenty clones fell.

[One mistake is all it takes.]

Fifty, one hundred, two hundred.

[Just one mistake…]

He reached five hundred.

[…What are you?]

But that was the limit. Even Ryu Kang-chul, brimming with confidence, began to falter. It wasn’t just that Limon remained unscathed after killing five hundred of his clones.

Not a single drop of sweat on his face after such a grueling battle. His movements, instead of slowing, were getting faster. And above all, the unwavering precision of his swordsmanship.

Ryu Kang-chul couldn’t help but cry out,

[How can you fight like this without making a single mistake?!]

Humans weren’t perfect. Even the most skilled craftsman couldn’t produce only masterpieces. Especially in a life-or-death struggle, even a seasoned veteran would make mistakes.

The higher the tension, the greater the focus, the faster one burned out, leading to more mistakes.

At least, that was how humans were, as far as Ryu Kang-chul knew.

How could Limon fight on the edge of a blade without a single slip-up? It was beyond surprising, it was inexplicable.

“You fool.”

Limon sneered, as if he had heard the most ridiculous question. He cut down another clone, his golden eyes filled with disdain.

“What do you think a Sword Master is?”

As Ryu Kang-chul himself had pointed out, a Sword Master was just a swordsman, albeit a highly skilled one. But that was precisely why they were absolute in their domain.

Ten million times, a hundred billion times.

Even with torn hands and severed limbs. When wielding a sword, they could trace the perfect trajectory, without a single error.

That was a Sword Master. And those who couldn’t achieve this level of mastery weren’t worthy of the title.

Limon’s voice turned cold.

“Do you think I, who haven’t made a single mistake in centuries of wielding a sword, would falter against the likes of you?”

[…]

It wasn’t mockery. It wasn’t sarcasm. It was genuine bewilderment. Ryu Kang-chul felt a tremor in his soul. The instincts honed through countless kills as a murderer screamed that he had made a grave error.

[…Nothing will change!]

But Ryu Kang-chul pushed down the unease, shouting defiantly. As long as he had his infinite clones, he would be the victor. This belief fueled his killing intent.

“You’re right. Nothing will change.”

Limon slowly nodded, watching Ryu Kang-chul’s renewed assault. He swung his sword, murmuring languidly,

“Because I’ve already finished calibrating.”

[What are you…?]

Swish!

Another clone fell, its sentence unfinished, its head severed. Ryu Kang-chul cursed, but he didn’t stop. He still had plenty of clones, and he could create more as needed.

Thwack! Crack! Splatter!

[What?]

But a moment later, Ryu Kang-chul was forced to pause, bewildered.

The situation had changed.

He still couldn’t touch Limon, and his clones still died with single strokes.

Only one thing had changed.

And that was…

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