I Became the Wrong Race

216 – God of the Night (7)

The night sky spreads and flows along the sword held high.

In Llewelyn’s eyes, the night sky looked like the shape of a sword blade.

Not the entire night sky, but part of it.

Rather, it feels more realistic than the entire moving scene, so you open your mouth.

The outline of the night sky becomes distorted and moves in a shape resembling a sword blade.

There was no sense of reality, but a strange sense of reality enveloped Llewelyn’s body

As you look, your field of vision is narrow. The overlaid helmet, the armor wrapped around her body.

Looking beyond the fluttering cloak, Llewellyn thought instinctively.

‘It’s coming.’

The outlines are all blurry. That’s why even the approaching shape is very blurry.

Llewelyn moved reflexively.

‘It must be stopped.’

Traces of being assimilated into the Sword Saint remained on his body his his his. Engraved in my memory. My weak remaining intuition and experience warn me, and that is a cut.

Because the slash is made with the entire body weight, it is as strong as a diagonal slash. Even if the sword is wielded by a beginner, those two things produce overwhelming destructive power.

This is because it fully utilizes instinct and body structure.

If it is derived from that enormity.

Everyone dies. Even if you don’t carefully control the trajectory you’re aiming for.

‘It must be stopped.’

If you don’t want to be wiped out, you have to stop it. If you don’t stop it, you will die. But, how?

Llewellyn knows that her own physical abilities are beyond those of a human, but …

It’s not at the level of being human or anything. No monster is equal to me.

A blow that cuts even a dragon into pieces with a single blow; rather, it turns a dragon into an ingredient left only to be cooked.

Even Llewelyn dies if hit. I knew it through intuition.

He threw the dream god into his cloak

“Llewelyn?!”

“Where… ” !”

The following movement was read only by Melody and Lorian, who were on par with Llewellyn with agility of 20.

Llewelyn ran forward. Even though she realizes that running doesn’t reduce the distance, she still poses a threat.

I could see the sword road bending. The magnificent night sky in the air is forged towards Llewellyn in a straight line.

Come. Even if you block it, there will be no references. If so.

‘What can I do to stop it?’

Three things come to mind. Two weapons and a non-weapon body.

The body is overworked. Slashing out and slaying the dragon.

Even if you use fighting techniques, there is no picture that you can stop it.

In the end, radish is something that is created and used through imagery. It didn’t occur to me that a movement I wasn’t even confident in could block such an attack.

The sword body falls off. When Llewelyn looked at it, she felt like a guillotine.

A cluster of stars?

No, it breaks. Even the Sword Saint was broken. Although it can be drawn infinitely from the soul, it cannot be attacked by attacks that crush the soul.

If so.

Llewelyn’s eyes sharply caught sight of the hatchet sticking out of her cloak.

[This weapon cannot be destroyed.]

The status window and name appear to be passing by.

North wind.

[“My child, I pity you.”

-To the God of Fire and the Steward.]

It’s different from what I’ve seen before. But there was no chance to be amazed again.

There is one thing you must do now. Llewellyn asked sharply.

If you don’t do it, you will die.

[Mourning]

[Remaining duration: 60 seconds]

[Temporary stamina: 10]

Her feet press down on the floor. Suddenly, the ground of the cracked demon world scatters dirt, and Llewelyn’s greatly lowered body shoots in front of her, as if asking if she had lowered herself.

Pick up the north wind This weapon cannot be broken. If so, it can be prevented.

Really?

Clearing her momentary doubt, Llewelyn shot forward.

I put my hand on her her bottom her her her to tilt her her her her shooting her tip her her.

Quad deud deuk!

The tilted sky gets closer. Llewellyn let go of her her hand her her her as he watched her her her her death her her her getting closer and closer to him.

Acceleration is over. There was enough distance between me and my companions.

Swallowing down her rising anxiety, Llewelyn lifted up the North Wind.

And for a moment, her Llewelyn’s consciousness was cut off.

Clink, the sound that seemed to be a light ringing cleared up.

Surely the North Wind did not break. I endured it because the wind is not something that breaks or breaks.

But what about Llewelyn’s body?

What is Llewelyn’s body that must receive that power?

It was as if she struck something hard and small with her sword and the hard object bounced back.

Llewelyn’s body her her flew.

As if she was retracing her trajectory to avoid being hit by her companions with her sword made of the night sky.

Boom, boom, boom!

Her body is dragged to the floor, but her momentum does not die and she is pushed back.

Lorian, who realized the situation belatedly, throws herself out and catches it, but only stops after rolling for a while, staining Lorian’s pure white dress with dust.

“Llewelyn, come to your senses! Llewelyn!”

Melody and Isla also panicked and recovered and prepared to attack, but they headed back. To take care of Llewelyn or protect Llewelyn.

There was only one person moving forward.

Carrying the shield splitter on her shoulder, she moves forward without hesitation.

Belatedly, I saw Lorian holding onto Llewelyn and looking at her back

“Sword Saint… ?”

He was smiling.

“Wow, if you prepare a trap, what an incredible trap it will be… “I expected what an overwhelming ordeal it would be.”

He smiled brightly, like a child receiving a gift on his birthday, and grasped the sword, feeling his heart pounding.

“Llewelyn, thank you for this opportunity! “In this supreme danger, in a crisis that makes even my soul tremble!”

He was laughing like a maniac. The sound of loud laughter echoed across the tilting night sky.

“What on earth… ?!”

The enemy is powerful. I don’t know if it would be possible to escape, but it didn’t seem like there was anything I could do with swords and magic.

A threat so powerful that not even a single life can be defeated, even by an army.

A gigantic being that clearly deviates from reason and rules the law.

As far as Llewellyn knows, he is worthy of being called a god.

However, despite its enormity, even in the face of the terrifying fear that the entire night sky is coming together to target you.

He was afraid, his mouth was shaking and he was sweating.

I was very happy and looked forward to it.

After this struggle, the place you will reach.

To the sky where my sword will reach.

He said as he looked at the night sky falling towards him.

“Put on all your might. “You nameless monster.”

No, I ordered it.

“If you can’t kill me now, you’ll be the one to get cut.”

With a confident declaration, he held the sword with both hands.

The posture taken is high. A stance to intercept and parry a sword coming from above.

He barely managed to straighten the corners of his mouth.

“Implementation of imagery.”

And when Llewelyn regained her consciousness, the first thing she saw was.

“Corridor of eternal struggle.”

The life seen when using miracle apparitions.

The image of a giant crazy about that sword.

Its implementation.

Duung, I heard an unfamiliar drum sound.

Unlike Llewellyn’s heartbeat, the giant’s image was the only trace left in the world.

Surprisingly nothing happened.

Naturally, everyone is looking at Geomseong.

――!

The night sky fell on Geomseong.

There was a loud noise.

The ground shook, and the dust rose up and scattered in a straight line centered on the struck spot.

Ah, he died. He’s definitely dead.

Even if he was the best swordsman on the continent, it was impossible for him to receive this blow.

Everyone sensed the death of the Sword Saint like that.

Except for Llewelyn.

Llewelyn opened her eyes wide, unable to believe what she saw.

A giant stood in the wide-open gray eyes of her.

The dust is clearing.

Haha! Haha!”

As the roar cleared along the fog that hung over the wreckage and the ground, a hongso sound rang out on the spot.

Blood falls on the ground. The fallen blood pools, and dust settles into the puddle left on the floor, making it cloudy.

Judging by the amount of blood, it is clearly a serious injury.

Even when the dust cleared, the entire upper arm of the giant was revealed to be covered in blood and stained.

However, it is light compared to blocking the night sky with a single sword.

And Llewellyn clearly saw with his own eyes the changes taking place beyond.

‘I threw it away.’

The most basic swordsmanship. Receiving the sword with the blade, safely receiving the force and throwing the sword away.

A skill that Llewelyn can also use as a talent. Strike out.

Geomseong struck the night sky.

The moment I realized it, the sky that had surged forward suddenly stopped.

What had come down to eye level was put back where it should be, but it wasn’t the end.

A single blow is not everything.

In the long, splattered marks, the swordsman adjusted his grip on the hilt of the sword.

“Huh, huh… Yes, it would be better to defend like this.”

Now, contemplating the enlightenment he had gained at this moment, he stepped back onto the spilled blood.

The night sky rises again. The transparent forearm wields the god as the hilt of the sword.

The night sky was distorted into the shape of a sword body, and a small giant, no bigger than a single star, let alone the sky, spread its legs.

He held his sword against the night sky that was trying to eat him.

Looking at that, Llewellyn intuitively knew.

This attack is not a blow.

It’s a serial attack. Repeatedly, like hitting a bug that doesn’t die easily in frustration.

This will be repeated until the Sword Saint dies.

“Sword Saint! Blood—”

“Shut up!”

A swordsman who roars and twists his body. Countless sword marks heading towards him.

The sky distorts and becomes a line.

This is the front line you usually see when an enemy wields a sword. A sword strike sharply forged with murderous intent, cutting between life and death.

The transparent arm draws the trajectory of the sword.

From top to bottom, bending from the bottom horizontally.

Fearing that it might not be enough, it sweeps the ground continuously from side to side, and finally rises up diagonally and then slams back down.

It’s not even called swordsmanship, it’s just random swordsmanship that strikes without any technique.

The swordsman’s technique to counter him was simple and clear.

Typical yet purposeful attacks.

A sword strike that rises in a semicircle from bottom to top pushes away the night sky.

After swinging like that, he withdraws the remaining sword strike, pivots his waist, and swings again.

Repeat it The direction and angle change slightly each time, but the texture of the sword strike itself does not change.

However, she knew Llewelyn the moment she saw him once.

Swordsmanship that has been accumulated to a great extent.

Skills and experience accumulated through fierce competition.

A trace engraved deeper than a reflection in that individual’s body, right down to the bone marrow.

Beyond muscles, bones, and nerves.

He moved as if everything he had was made for that one sword strike.

A body that moves smoothly, muscles that are firm, and a skeleton that holds and supports everything underneath.

The sword strike was completed.

I received God’s sword striking at random.

The sound is erased. The sword strikes with a high-pitched sound that goes far beyond the range of human hearing and cannot be heard even by Llewelyn.

The only thing that can be heard is the low drum sound that fills the space for no apparent reason.

And the sound of the Sword Saint’s shout and creaking body that cannot be heard.

A storm blew in, and everyone except Geomseong watched in astonishment.

The night sky is moving sideways. Geomseong spread his legs wide, pulled his right foot back, and struck with his sword from bottom to top.

The night sky recedes greatly, and as if it considers it a shame, it flies like a moon and crushes the Sword Saint.

Duung, I can hear the sound of drums again.

Geomseong did not retreat. Instead, he twisted his body and raised his sword upward.

In that stance, he drew a large U shape with his sword and struck the night sky with his waist from bottom to top.

It was a sword strike that never produced great results. A sword technique that may be effective against humans or monsters, but will not work against gods.

However, there were no wounds, and Llewelyn saw it clearly.

The sky is once again being struck down and pushed aside.

‘The sky… ‘I’m pushing it out.’

Is that possible with just a sword?

To a gigantic being that brings down providence and uses the world itself as a sword.

Is it only possible to reach it with the technology and swords accumulated by humans?

It is common to think that it is absurd and impossible.

They laughed at me, asking if I had dreamed of it, and dismissed it as nonsense.

However, it was happening.

Even though it is said that the sword master has reached the limit with his sword.

There was only one human standing against the sky with a sword.

The hands his were soaked in blood. His knees were shaking, and the clothes he was wearing were already torn to shreds and were nothing more than rags.

He was alive. He survived and held the sword. His eyes burned as if shining, and the corners of his mouth were greatly curved with joy and accomplishment.

The night sky struck heavily, but this time it didn’t just get pushed away.

Before I knew it, Geomseong was taking his stance

It was an attitude that Llewellyn knew well. Twist your waist sharply and let the power that starts from your legs flow through your whole body to use it organically.

A strike that uses one’s entire body as the hilt of a sword.

A vision of a sword saint who cut down even the sword saint of the previous generation.

‘Tearing down old trees.’

Dooung—!

As the sound of the drum grows louder, the Sword Saint’s single-edged sword leaves a sharp solid line in the air.

It’s neat and doesn’t leave any residue, giving the impression that it’s clean, but for some reason, the sword marks feel harsh.

―!

Blood gushes from the cracked muscles of the Sword Saint, and his face, full of joy, is instantly covered by the sword marks.

And then silence came.

Even though the night sky soars and the sword being swung makes a clear sound.

Everyone just looked at the sky.

Before I knew it, there were sword marks left in the night sky.

Following the marks of the sword, the night sky splits with a crackling sound, spilling out fragments.

The stars turned into powder and fell, mixed clouds, and the floating Milky Way fell on the ground like a tombstone.

Boom, boom, beneath the remnants of the falling sky, Geomseong adjusted his grip on his sword.

“Llewelyn.”

A soft voice that is not like a swordsman. Looking at his blood-stained back of her, Llewelyn felt something inside her boiling.

“How long are you going to sit there?”

A long, drawn out breath. The breath he took as if he were tired was full of joy and a sense of accomplishment.

It was worth it. He was a giant, but he was not a special giant.

Likewise, the Sword Master’s sword did not have any special magic or divinity.

It’s just an ordinary iron sword. I wielded it for over 200 years.

There was no divinity in his body either

I just trained, cut, and cut endlessly.

There was no special corner. It was ordinary. It started like that.

Without even acquiring anything special, he grabbed the sword at the point he had reached.

I cut down the sky like that.

“If you are a swordsman, whoever your enemy is… Anyone can cut down.”

With a voice that seemed to faint, Geomseong grabbed his sword.

“All you need is a sword and the will to cut.”

So. Geomsung said without looking back.

“The next sword saint, Llewelyn.”

I just held the sword tightly and took a stance.

“Unsheath your sword.”

Before I knew it, Llewelyn had taken out a sword and was holding it.