I Became the Wrong Race

150 – Subjugation (2)

The sound of metal resounding loudly. In the middle of the night, there were two people between the sounds that announced the beginning of the dawn of time.

Someone dressed in fancy attire that doesn’t match the giant’s all-black look.

It’s hard to see clearly as the night falls, but every time the sound of a gun is heard, light flashes and fills up.

In each spark that bounced, the face, body, and intention were revealed.

The face looked calm at first glance.

Brown hair with brown eyes. A woman who is very common in this dark world full of hair colors, and is truly an ordinary woman.

The face was somewhat off-white, but it didn’t seem like it would be popular with people.

The woman knew this well, so she didn’t bother to decorate it. She likes to decorate what is visible, but she does it with calculated intentions, not to be loved by others.

What emerges beneath that makeup is a slight mistrust and calculation hidden within deep interest.

Her hair tied in a single strand, did not waver even in strong gusts, and neither did her womanly, slender body her her her.

The long sword wielded by a giant cuts through the night, and the fired sword strikes sparks again.

Jjaeng, the body revealed again.

A body that is on the thin side rather than voluptuous.

The robes wrapped around the body, the jack chain worn over the robes.

Only the long scabbard and long sword gliding in her hand prove that she is not just a woman.

Take a breath. The sparks mixed with the breath collide again and again before they die out.

Jajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajaejaejaejaejaejae!

It was an attack that took place at an extremely fast pace.

When the giant blocks her swinging long sword and swings her fist, she leans back to avoid her swinging fist and swings her long sword.

If you throw away the long sword you are swinging with your fist, the trajectory of your fist will soon be distorted and you will aim for the gap in the helmet and stab it.

The woman twisted her head to avoid the stab and stretched out her hand, unleashing her anti-magic power. Even as she staggered, she swung her sword in a scattering motion and deflected all of the sword strikes aimed at her.

The distance widens. The dragging feet turn over the soil, and the sparks that filled the air as if melting slowly settle down.

There were already fallen black knights in the place where they landed.

Those who fainted after being stabbed one at a time, or being struck by an unexpected blow made with their own anti-magic power.

The powerful anti-magic power holds on to their lives, but it is not something to worry about.

Because she clearly knew that the woman had no intention of killing her in the first place.

Because she knows very well that if she kills her, it will be difficult.

The moonlight falls. The clouds that covered the moon cleared, and only then did a scene that could be seen by the eyes of an ordinary person emerge.

First, there was a giant shining black.

A man with a huge body, wearing armor that fits his body, and holding a black long sword in his right hand.

The overall impression was that it was pitch black, and as expected, it was difficult to see at night.

Therefore, anyone who knows his name is scared the moment he sees his appearance and has no choice but to cry out his name

The woman said.

“Walterok.”

Balterok, a golem who is the leader of anti-magic forces, the current dean of the anti-magic school, and the leader of the Black Knights.

He looked at the woman standing in front of him. Her crystal-carved eyes captured her womanhood, and her hand held her long sword and grasped the hilt of her sword at an angle.

The moonlight shines as if passing by. Under the shining moonlight, Walterok’s armor was revealed.

Armor with countless scratches and sword marks. Clearly traces of allowing the attack.

Then what about the woman?

The moonlight is shining. As the slanted moonlight illuminated the woman, she smiled brightly and raised her long sword.

The woman was clearly someone who did not fit into this position.

He is holding a long sword, and is wearing a jack chain, a type of armor, and a sword sheath.

There was an awkwardness in the woman’s behavior

Anyone can see that he looks like a prime minister who should be attending to official duties rather than a fighter. Dressed in robes, wearing a monocle, and with a wide smile on his face, his posture his is straight.

But the man standing on the other side knew.

That being is the worst ‘saboteur’ you can imagine.

The woman was truly a prime minister.

She It was not an ordinary prime minister either

A leader in imperial commerce who rose to become Minister of Finance, a position in charge of all commerce, revival, and economy of the empire.

But even her title cannot be said to describe her properly.

Walterok looked at her longsword. After showing her respect her, the long sword goes down and aims at herself again.

The posture of laying down the blade and pointing the tip at yourself, rather than pointing the blade at the enemy.

The Black Knights, who had already looked down on the strange gripping method, were lying on the floor, fainting.

Because that was her her swordsmanship that made her the best sword in her empire.

Balterok muttered, glaring at her woman.

“Lie Hejedia.”

The best sword of the empire, the most calculated swordsman, the treasurer of the empire.

A genius who did not belong to any swordsmanship faction and rose to the position of the best swordsman in the empire with his own swordsmanship.

However, he is the owner of a success story who rose to the position of treasurer of the empire by showing off his talent and saying that his intention is to be a merchant, not a swordsman.

And potentially Netel’s limbs. Bal Terok lowered his posture her her her, remembering all the stories that he had been told about her.

“Isn’t this something you can’t do, sir?”

Rie said as he pointed his sword. Balterok was silent, but she let her words flow like a broken dam.

“It’s the end of the year, and there’s a lot of work left to do, and all of a sudden, you’re brought to the New Continent, and what you’re doing is capturing one of the Empire’s Three Girls…”

Even though she laments, she does not put down her sword. Walterok knew better. Because throughout her life, she has been gathering information on every human that could be a potential enemy on this continent.

I knew very well that it was some kind of mimicry or trap. So Balteroc didn’t react, and Rie sighed but smiled.

“An enormous amount of time and resources went into preparation. Let’s specify your location, release informants, make a list of potential enemies, and arrange and divide people according to that list… “It just doesn’t make sense.”

Women are not something to be trifled with. At least she was like that to Val Terok.

Even though she lost her place as the best sword in the empire with the advent of the Hu border, she is strong in this position.

Enough to tie him up and stun all the black knights who try to pass by.

Walterok thought that it made no sense based on common sense.

There must be Netel behind it.

Netel is this land and the world itself. Reading the earth’s memories and transmitting practiced martial arts is a simple task.

As far as Balterok knew, it was an ability that even gods could have. With that, he would have given grace to Rie Hegedia.

But it was a misjudgment.

She, Lie Hejedia, was essentially the same as Lucilla.

A genius who surpasses all standards. A monster that can match the swordsmanship honed by countless human beings with their own talent and design.

A talent few in history, possessing the ability to open a new branch of swordsmanship.

It is safe to call him the best on the continent when it comes to tying up someone and holding on.

However, there was one difference from Lucille Ra: Lee rarely used her magic.

I can even feel someone’s intentions. It suddenly occurred to me that the appointment was intentionally made to tie me down.

That’s why Walterok guessed. The situation is heading towards the worst.

Rie laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this is my job.”

There is an uneasy atmosphere. Balterok lowered his sword and pulled out the lance behind him.

It is a weapon with many loopholes. It doesn’t work. He adjusted his long sword with his other hand, and Rie adjusted her posture a little and spoke.

“I can’t tell you anyway, so I’ll tell you. It will be your last.”

Last. As Balterok condensed his magic power, Rie spoke.

“After all, since you are a continental Samgeol, if you want to hunt, you will need more people, right? If you calculate it, yes.”

If it were any other Samgeol, it wouldn’t have been like this. Among the three girls on the continent, the only one who did not have a unique flag was Balterok.

If it were the other two, they wouldn’t have been able to stop it like this.

Although it could have been considered humiliating, Walterok remained silent and gathered his fighting spirit.

Walterok is not the only one at a disadvantage. The inability to use magical power is the same for the opponent.

Even the most basic use of magical power is blocked. All she can do is defend and counterattack.

So Balterok decided to believe in the God he had found. He said, putting his long sword on her on his shoulder her her her her.

“It looks like ‘Mother’ is also upset. “They want a young god so desperately.”

“Oh my.”

There is a sense of uneasiness in the mocking voice. An ominous feeling sees in even before Balterok realizes it.

Rie said.

“Who said it meant ‘mother’?”

Walterok sensed two denials in those words.

It’s not my mother’s will.

It’s like he doesn’t want to have it again.

This was before Balterok and Rie clashed again.

A roar sounded from afar.

It was an explosion sound.

*

“A being who has acquired regenerative power and immortality that surpasses that of existing homunculi.”

The sound of burning flesh and burning fire rang out at the same time, and the wizard quietly turned his gaze to the ground.

“Excellent armor and means of defense that cover the entire body, a tough body unique to mourners, physical strength that far exceeds that of a human, and martial arts in all areas of attack and defense…”

Underneath the voice chanting as if evaluating something, pitch-black armor was scorched by flames and radiating high heat.

“I will not avoid the country either.”

There was no mockery in his voice. Rather, it was cold, as if it were a review.

What came into my gaze was countless deaths.

The elite soldiers of the empire who died and were scattered, and the War School’s own ‘suicide bombers’ who even completed brainwashing to eliminate fear.

Llewelyn did not block their charge. The reason was obvious.

“I think I can catch it if I block and attack, but if I just dodge, I won’t be able to reach it.”

It was as he said. Llewelyn saw what was happening in the pantheon and wanted a solution as quickly as possible.

So I didn’t avoid it. Blocked it. I closed the distance by blocking or holding on with my body.

Because it was intentionally pushed in, the number of releases was limited. Even though Llewelyn knew that she had been induced, she tried to cover it up with whatever means she had.

In reality, it was not easy to win against a prepared enemy by making the most of the means at hand.

However, it was not that there were no results at all.

“It’s an unrealistic and overly optimistic choice, but… The power is—”

Azdan, the youngest dean of the School of War and an archmage praised as the greatest genius the School of War has ever known.

His right arm was completely torn off.

With a blood-soaked face, the man held his burnt shoulder and smiled crookedly.

“His potential deserves high praise.”

Everything was calculated. Llewellyn did not dodge, but blocked or held on with his body to close the distance.

The suicide bomber faithfully detonated himself, accumulating damage and inflicting fatal wounds.

What was unexpected was Llewelyn’s power

A combination of an explosive leap and a dragon slaying, accelerating with the pressure created by the explosion and using the little remaining magic power as a stepping stone.

As a result, he lost his arm. It caught on his finger and he pulled it out.

Normally, he would have been incapacitated in one blow.

Azdan is a wizard. After he finished stopping the bleeding in his arm, he signed his name with his empty hand.

The wizard realized his mistake and changed his plan.

“It is understandable that His Majesty is impatient.”

Only then did Llewelyn raise her head. One thing I realized too late.

It’s not Netel. Around the time Llewelyn’s face hardened inside the helmet.

The wizard saw that and smiled briefly.

“For His Majesty the Emperor.”

Space splits. What comes out of the split space.

“… Owl, Bear?”

A headless owlbear.

It was a past enemy that Llewelyn had already killed.