Solo Swordmaster – Chapter 133

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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Speed.

Before, Limon had been taking down Ryu Kang-chul’s clones at a rate of one every few seconds. Now, he was cutting them down two, three, sometimes even six at a time. The clones couldn’t be replaced fast enough.

One hundred, ninety, eighty… the dwindling numbers terrified Ryu Kang-chul.

[What did you do?!]

Limon’s movements hadn’t become faster. His power hadn’t increased. He wasn’t cutting down multiple clones at once.

He was still taking them down one by one, his movements so clean and precise they seemed almost monotonous. Yet, the rate at which the clones were falling had drastically increased.

As Ryu Kang-chul raised his scythes, ready to attack…

Swish!

…he realized.

Limon was striking before he could even react.

By eliminating the need for defense or evasion, Limon had created an insurmountable speed advantage.

[But how…?!]

Before he could swing his scythes.

Before he could take a step.

Before he could leap through the ceiling.

Limon’s sword would flash, anticipating his every move. The timing was so perfect it felt as if Ryu Kang-chul was offering his own head to be severed.

His face twisted in a grimace of frustration.

“How? You fool. Have you already forgotten who gave advice when you were fighting Wei-ling?”

Ryu Kang-chul’s mind flashed back to his fight with Wei-ling. How a few words from a voice on the phone had rendered him completely predictable, leaving him at her mercy.

[That was different!]

“How so?”

That was before ‘Constellation Descent,’ when he was only at Grand Duke level.

Now, significantly stronger, his clones possessing Grand Duke-level power, how could the outcome be the same?

Limon scoffed at Ryu Kang-chul’s indignant question.

“No matter how big and fast you are, your movements haven’t changed one bit.”

The reason Limon could dismantle Ryu Kang-chul’s clones so easily was simple. He had thoroughly analyzed and dissected Ryu Kang-chul’s fighting style and behavioral patterns through the countless corpses he had created.

And his analysis still held true.

The thick armor? The increased speed? The ability to create clones?

None of it mattered against Limon.

Understanding how an opponent thought and moved meant understanding how to kill them.

And Limon, who could express all understanding through his sword, could cut down Grand Dukes and Dukes alike, regardless of their transformations or abilities.

All he needed to do was read the trajectory of their death and place his sword accordingly.

That was the essence of the Demon Slaying Sword. Created by the first Sword Master, the Sword Emperor, and perfected by Limon over centuries.

A swordsmanship so precise and devastating that even other Sword Masters called it cheating.

“In fact, your thought process has changed so drastically it took me some time to adjust for the discrepancies.”

[What are you talking about?]

“Don’t you understand?”

Limon’s gaze, now dark and piercing, bored into Ryu Kang-chul. He saw beyond the armor, seeing the man consumed by it, becoming one with it.

“You, who should have run away long ago, are throwing your life away, charging at me like a man possessed.”

[Do you think I’m a coward who would run from the likes of you?]

Ryu Kang-chul, feeling insulted, charged at Limon. His clone was bisected from groin to skull.

“Are you?”

Limon asked casually.

[…]

Ryu Kang-chul, momentarily silenced by the simple question, continued his assault with the remaining clones, but he didn’t answer.

Limon continued languidly,

“You’re a coward and a craven. You prey on the weak, avoid the strong, and hide behind your clones, unwilling to risk even a scratch.”

Having deciphered Ryu Kang-chul’s swordsmanship, Limon understood.

He was a ruthless killer, a sadistic psychopath who treated the weak like toys, reveling in their brutal deaths.

That was why he could confidently assert Ryu Kang-chul’s current anomaly.

[Don’t spout nonsense! If I’m such a coward, why am I still fighting?]

“That’s what I want to know.”

“[What do you mean?]”

“Why aren’t you running away?”

When his clones at the affiliates started disappearing en masse, when he raised his hands in surrender to buy time, Ryu Kang-chul should have known. He couldn’t defeat Limon. And given his personality, as analyzed by Limon, he should have fled.

No gamer would throw their life away on an unwinnable game.

“Why did you try to keep me here, even resorting to a hostage situation?”

[Because…!]

Ryu Kang-chul started to answer, then stopped. There were plenty of excuses. He didn’t have time to escape. He was confident he could win. He was simply following orders.

But he couldn’t utter a single convincing answer. Seeing his confusion, Limon’s voice turned cold.

“Are you even fighting of your own free will?”

[Shut up!]

Limon didn’t need to see Ryu Kang-chul’s face to know it was contorted in a grimace. Whether from being exposed or from some underlying fear, he couldn’t tell. But he didn’t care.

“Park Hyun-gun was the same.”

[…!]

No answer.

Only a flinch he couldn’t conceal. But that was enough for Limon, who had been provoking Ryu Kang-chul for this very purpose.

“I knew it.”

Limon smirked.

Park Hyun-gun, the former aide to the Infinite Monarch, who had framed Limon for the murder of Na-kyung to cover up his own crimes.

When Limon learned that Park Hyun-gun was the one who had set the trap at the Liberation Brigade’s headquarters, he suspected a connection between them.

“The way you’re offering your body to the Constellation, like a worm-ridden corpse, reminds me of him.”

And the nature of that connection was clear.

Ryu Kang-chul’s reactions to his questions. Li Chingwei’s hypothesis. And above all, the thread-like roots covering Ryu Kang-chul’s armored form.

It all pointed to one undeniable truth.

“You’re just a Constellation’s puppet.”

[I said SHUT UP!!!]

Overwhelmed by confusion, or perhaps by the squirming roots beneath his armor, Ryu Kang-chul charged, roaring in defiance.

Limon cut him down effortlessly, murmuring,

“Well, we don’t need words anymore.”

He nodded slowly, as if having heard all he needed. He moved like lightning, piercing the heart of another clone.

“Struggle all you want, you Constellation’s lapdog. Let’s see how powerful you are, with the strength you gained by offering your filthy soul.”

[You bastard…!]

Ryu Kang-chul gritted his teeth.

It wasn’t just the insult. Despite his frantic proliferation, he had less than fifty clones remaining.

The pain in his roots, the dissipation of his power with every swing of Limon’s sword, and above all, that chilling gaze… it filled him with a growing unease, a sense of shame and anger at feeling such emotions towards a mere human.

[Fine! Let’s end this, one way or another!]

The roots, abandoning their focus on proliferation, poured their remaining power into a single, desperate gamble.

Rumble!

The scattered roots converged. The divided clones merged. Dozens of armored forms fused. The already unstable Black Dragon Construction headquarters began to collapse, but the roots didn’t care. They focused solely on uniting.

As the building crumbled, the fractured roots combined. What remained wasn’t a collection of three-meter tall scrap metal.

A colossal giant, over twenty meters tall, rose from the rubble, its joints formed by writhing roots, its body clad in a metallic shell.

And it continued to grow.

It was ‘Colony Proliferation,’ the true power of the great star, the origin of ‘Infinite Proliferation.’

[Behold! Can you defeat us now? We are one! We are invincible!]

Whether due to the strain of wielding power beyond human capacity, or to the hasty, imperfect fusion of the clones, the Contractor was unstable, both physically and mentally.

Given human frailty, it wouldn’t last long.

But the roots didn’t care. The battle would soon be over. Even if it took a little longer, it would only mean further damage to the already irreparable Contractor.

The giant raised its fist, ready to crush the crumbling building and the insignificant human beneath it.

“First a transformation suit, now a fusion. I commend your effort in imitating those Power Ranger shows, but…”

[…!]

The giant froze, its fist raised. A voice echoed from above, directly above its head. The chilling tone sent shivers down its spine.

“Only fools in stories wait for their opponents to finish their transformations.”

[Gahhhh!]

The giant reacted belatedly, pulling back its fist to strike the human who had somehow appeared on its head.

But before it could move, Limon’s sword plunged downwards, piercing the giant’s skull.

The sword roared.

The world trembled.

The giant, bisected from head to groin, crumbled into dust.

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