EPISODE 65

As Luan had predicted, the instructors had meticulously orchestrated the dawn raid.

The instructors weren't at the front lines. Instead, they gathered in the conference hall of the instructors' dormitory building, seated around a glowing magic crystal that illuminated the room. Their eyes were fixed on the swarm of lights emitted by the crystal, which soon shifted to reveal the hero disciples entering battle.

"It begins now," said Soymond, the Survival Master, who had just left the hero disciples. "From this moment, their true worth will be revealed—both the good and the bad. In fact, I can already spot some promising talent, Tanko. Those are the hero disciples who excelled in your running test."

Tanko, the Hunting Master, nodded. He was confident that unless they made grave mistakes, these hero disciples would survive the ordeal.

Soymond studied the scene before remarking, "Weren't there five who received extra points? I only see four."

"Ah, you must be referring to Mir Giant," Tanko replied.

"Giant? As in the giant race?" Soymond asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Indeed."

"That's odd. I don't see anyone who looks like a giant on the battlefield."

As the name suggested, giants were several times larger than humans, making them easy to spot. Yet, no such figure appeared on the screen.

Tanko pointed to a specific location on the screen. "That hero disciple there."

Soymond narrowed his eyes. "Hmm, she is quite tiny for a giant."

The girl in question was indeed diminutive, even by human standards, let alone those of a giant.

"Is she mixed-race, perhaps?" Soymond speculated.

"Not to my knowledge. In fact, she carries the bloodline of one of the greatest giants."

"One of the greatest giants?" Soymond echoed. "Do you mean Ymir, the Frost Giant?"

"Precisely."

"Ah, so that's why her name is Mir."

Tanko nodded. "There was a brief note about her circumstances. Essentially, she's a mutant, but her strength surpasses that of a typical giant."

"Hmm. But why is she just standing there like that?"

Mir Giant stood frozen, her face rigid with tension. While the other hero disciples began to move and adapt, she remained immobile.

"She must be the type who freezes up in real combat," Tanko observed.

In the Grasslands, such hesitation could prove fatal.

The thought of losing a talented hero disciple weighed heavily on Tanko's mind, but he knew intervention was impossible. If Mir died today, so be it. If she survived, he would provide guidance to help her overcome this weakness.

Tanko's gaze shifted as he searched for another hero disciple—one who had occupied his thoughts throughout the training camp.

The memory of their sparring match brought a faint twitch to his lips. The boy had gradually adapted to Tanko's martial arts, even attempting to absorb his techniques.

With systematic and consistent training, perhaps this boy could inherit Tanko's self-created martial arts style.

Does that mean I can accept an official disciple? Tanko mused.

Tanko was renowned as a Great Master who had never accepted a disciple, just like the Swordmaster. Yet, the idea of mentoring Luan didn't seem so bad.

"By the way, are we still adhering to that rule?" Soymond's voice broke Tanko's reverie. His attention turned to Juan, the Martial Arts Master, who had remained silent until now.

"No matter how much it's framed as a reward, I can't believe you're granting such a privilege to a hero disciple. It seems excessive," Soymond pressed.

"Wasn't that matter already settled?" Juan replied calmly.

Strictly speaking, not everyone had agreed.

Of the eight Great Masters overseeing the camp, three had opposed the decision. However, the majority had voted in favor.

Soymond shook his head, thinking, If only Carzakh were here.

Juan had always been headstrong, but without Carzakh to restrain him, his behavior had grown increasingly unchecked.

With a slight smile, Juan said, "Let's stop chatting and focus. From now on, we must carefully observe and score each hero disciple."

***

It was good to have the Seven Sins Sword. Thanks to it, the demonic monsters' filthy body fluids splattered less.

I brandished my sword and smirked, as if I'd returned to my mercenary days for the first time in ages.

At first, I considered imitating the Galaxy Sword technique of the Martial God. However, it was a formidable martial art, difficult to execute in reality, so I decided against it.

As I cut through a centipede, its blood splattered onto my face. I almost wiped it off by reflex but instead took another step forward and swung my sword again, slashing at the creatures around me.

My movements mirrored the swordsmanship the Iron-Blooded Lord had demonstrated in the subspace. I focused solely on attacking, eliminating all minor actions.

This approach seemed simple but was challenging to maintain. In battle, unexpected situations arise continuously, making consistency difficult. Yet, I persisted, silently committed to my offensive strategy.

I deliberately fought differently from my usual style, which was why I insisted on using the Seven Sins Sword. Since the blessing ceremony, I had relied solely on my fists. I hoped that by altering my combat method, I might uncover clues about the blessing I had received.

I don't feel any different.

In truth, I wasn't frustrated by the absence of a blessing. The uncertainty worried me. Some blessings only activated under specific conditions, but generally, one could instinctively sense when those conditions were met. I, however, felt no such intuition.

Looking around, I noticed many hero disciples already leveraging their blessings in combat. Though their expressions were still dazed, they seemed to have grasped how to use them.

Did the mirror make a mistake? As this absurd thought crossed my mind, I realized the number of baby centipedes had halved.

Surprisingly, no hero disciples had died, nor were there any serious injuries. As expected of heroes' descendants, they adapted faster than anticipated. Those who survived today's battle would likely emerge twice as strong.

At that moment, the giant centipede let out an eerie roar and began speeding across the ground. Although smaller than the Sapphire Snake I had faced previously, it was surprisingly swift. Its sheer size caused the ground to dent and stones to scatter in all directions.

"Stop it!" one of the hero disciples shouted bravely, charging toward the centipede.

That idiot! Has killing the smaller centipedes made him overconfident? I chided inwardly.

The consequences of underestimating the enemy were disastrous. The moment he collided with the centipede, he was sent flying with a sickening sound.

I approached to check on him, half-expecting him to be dead, his bones reduced to powder. Unexpectedly, he was still breathing. His bones were broken, and blood poured from his wounds, but he was alive.

Did he receive a blessing that boosts his pain tolerance? If so, I can afford to be a bit rougher with him.

I picked him up and tossed him toward a patch of forest free of baby centipedes.

"Uwaaah!" someone screamed in terror.

I assumed someone was trying to flee, but the direction of the sound was unusual.

A diminutive hero disciple was screaming as she charged toward the centipede. It was a contradictory sight—her voice suggested she was fleeing, yet her body surged forward with determination.

What is this? I wondered, standing frozen in bewilderment.

The giant centipede twisted its body and struck the hero disciple with its massive tail.

What happened next was astonishing.

The diminutive hero disciple stopped the centipede's tail strike head-on.

"Oh..."

Was it a blessing? It didn't seem so.

After a moment, I realized it was sheer physical strength that had halted the centipede's attack.

Was such a feat even possible? It would be difficult for me, and even Tanko, whose physical prowess far surpassed mine, to withstand such an assault with our bare bodies.

I took a closer look at the screaming hero disciple. She was one of the standout talents at the training camp, having secured a spot in the top five during Tanko's running test.

Her name is Mir Giant, right? Her bouncing, twin-tailed hair is memorable. Wait, Giant? Ah, she's from the giant race.

That explained her absurd physical abilities. But her follow-up was pitiful. After brilliantly blocking the tail strike, Mir completely lost her composure and flailed wildly until the swarm of baby centipedes quickly surrounded her. At this rate, she would be the first casualty.

At that moment, the Martial God, who had been asleep, spoke for the first time in a long time.

—That giant...

"What is it?"

—Messenger, save her.

"I was planning to. But why the sudden interest? Weren't you asleep, Martial God?"

—You must know the nature of the Seven Sins Sword.

I nodded to myself. It was a legendary sword once wielded by the Nameless King, who united seven races.

—Do you know the races that the Nameless King gathered at that time?

"I don't remember much."

—The humans, dwarves, fairies, beastfolk, dragons, spirits, and giants.

"Don't tell me..."

—At that time, the Nameless King defeated Ymir, the Frost Giant. This girl is likely a descendant.

"I see."

—We must save her. One day, when you seek to unleash the Seven Sins Sword's full power, her help will be indispensable.

"How do I unleash it, Martial God?"

The Martial God didn't respond.

"Hello?"

The Martial God fell silent again, as if he had fallen asleep again.

Seriously? He just says his piece and disappears? I clicked my tongue in frustration before cutting down the baby centipedes surrounding Mir with the Seven Sins Sword, creating an escape route.

"Hey, over here," I called out.

Unfortunately, Mir didn't seem to hear me, charging forward again.

Did she have a death wish?

I reflexively reached out to grab her shoulder, but something snagged my foot. A rope lay on the ground, seemingly out of place.

Was it someone's weapon?

Regardless, it was useful. I picked it up and decided to loop it around Mir's body, much like the chains that had once bound me.

"Ack!

"

"Oops." In my haste, I ended up wrapping it around her head instead of her body.

Skill issue...

There was no time to undo it and try again. If I left her like this, the swarm of baby centipedes would overwhelm her. Thus, I pulled the rope forcefully.

Mir flailed and went on a rampage, but I steadily dragged her toward me.

"I-I can't see! I can't see anything! Is this Jotunheim?" she shouted, blinded by the rope.

I decided to cut her some slack, considering giants weren't known for their intellect.

Once she was close, I untied the rope. As soon as her vision cleared, Mir leaped back, putting distance between us.

"You are the blond Badniker..." she muttered.

The blond Badniker? Ah, she must be distinguishing me from Hector?

"What was that for?" she demanded.

I tossed the rope aside. "That's not the point."

"What?"

"When someone saves you, you should say thank you first."

"You call that saving me?" she exclaimed.

"What, did you think I was attacking you?" I shot back.

"Ridiculous! Those centipedes are no match for me!"

Her words weren't entirely false, but they weren't true either. Up close, it was clear she was in an abnormal state. Her entire body trembled, her complexion was pale, and her eyes darted wildly as if caught in an earthquake. She seemed mentally unstable.

My diagnosis? If she continued fighting in this state, she wouldn't survive the night.

"I appreciate your help, but... don't disturb me again! I-I have to prove that I am a warrior!" Mir declared before charging back toward the giant centipede.

I watched her retreating figure for a moment before striking the back of her head with the Seven Sins Sword's hilt.

Bam!

Mir crumpled to the ground.

I easily hoisted her over my shoulder and dumped her next to the first unconscious hero disciple.

"Persuasion is tedious. Fists are faster," I muttered, adding another victory to my master's teachings.

"What are you doing?" a soft voice asked.

I looked up to see a figure standing ominously on a tree branch.

"Rescue operations," I replied.

"Why?"

"They are too young to die now."

Charon stared at me expressionlessly before muttering, "Hypocrite."

What was that supposed to mean?

By the time I looked up again, he was already gone. I wanted to chase after him and smack the back of his head, but I decided to focus on the task at hand—filtering out the hero disciples who were either unconscious or on the verge of death.

After about twenty minutes, only those who could hold their own remained on the battlefield. At that point, I stopped my unsolicited rescue efforts and rejoined the fight against the centipedes.

As I approached a nearby centipede and swung my sword, an arrow shot out of nowhere, piercing the creature. The arrow, imbued with a blessing, was more destructive than a cannon, completely obliterating the centipede's head.

I dodged the filthy remains and searched for other monsters.

Just as I was about to charge toward a plant-type demonic monster, another volley of arrows rained down. They weren't as powerful as the first, but they were numerous.

The demonic monster was instantly riddled with holes and collapsed.

I felt a twinge of discomfort but pressed on, rushing toward the next target. Yet again, the monster I aimed for was struck by an arrow. It was clear now—someone was deliberately intercepting my targets.

Needless to say, I knew who it was. I looked at a tree nearby.

"Hey," I called out to the figure perched on a branch. "What are you doing?"

Charon nocked another arrow and replied, "They're my prey. Don't touch them."

"What?"

"Stay down and shut up, Luan Badniker."