[Check Out My P4treon For +50 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!! And get chapters before publishing them here for free on my p4treon][https://p4treon.com/roooaaa]
===
The glint of blades flickered amidst the flames as over thirty bandits lunged toward Allen. He planted his feet firmly, crouching low, his pupils darting rapidly as he surveyed his surroundings. The cacophony of roars, curses, the whistling of blades cutting through the air, and the rustling of leaves under the northern wind all flooded his ears.
Shadows of figures danced chaotically, distorting the light in Allen's vision.
Yet, amidst the discordant noise, he could still hear it—the palpable killing intent and the faint murmurs of magical incantations.
In that instant, Allen's gaze pierced through the crowd, locking onto the distant figure of the Leopard. The man was staring back at him, and beyond, a dense firelight was rising, churning the night sky.
'I see… This is the Leopard's style. He noticed something off about my Rock Strike technique earlier, so he tested me himself to dispel his comrades' fear, then used words to incite them to attack me together.'
'He's treating them all as disposable pawns, using their bodies as obstacles to hinder me. Based on the assumption that I don't know the Sword God style, he quickly formulated a plan to buy time for his real trump card… This mana fluctuation… Is it an advanced mage? Or… a Saint-level?'
'Not a bad plan, but unfortunately…'
'Healing Magic Rune activated. Time: ten seconds.'
The Dragon Saint's combat aura erupted in a dazzling green light! The aura and mana surged through Allen's limbs in an instant!
At the same time, the flood of bandits crashed into him, engulfing him completely.
A faint smile played on Allen's lips as his whisper, lighter than the wind, was drowned out by the clashing of blades.
"The collision of the Water God style and the North God style, the fusion of the Rock Strike and the Twenty Slashes… A self-created technique, advanced."
"Rock Strikes Water."
Allen's eyes snapped open. His blade vanished into the darkness, darting through the crowd with unparalleled speed. The pinnacle of the Water God style deflected over a dozen blades in succession, while the North God style's Twenty Slashes pushed his physical limits to the extreme!
A flash of light erupted among the crowd!
The first ten figures, their swords knocked aside, seemed to freeze for a moment. In the next second, their bodies disintegrated before Allen!
Severed arms! Shattered legs! Torsos!
Entrails! Bones! Heads!
The rain of gore scattered like a storm, the stench of blood thick in the air. The bandits fell like wheat before a scythe.
Allen's vision cleared momentarily. Through the blood rain, he grinned ferociously at the raging flames rising in the distance.
Beneath the flickering fire was Grey Hawk, his staff raised high, the final words of his incantation roaring from his lips.
"Inferno Fireball! Die, monster!"
As the visually overwhelming spell was unleashed, their eyes met.
Grey Hawk's expression held no triumph, only deep dread and horror.
'In the blink of an eye, half of them are dead… Thankfully, the spell is complete… The Leopard's judgment was right. Though the sacrifice was heavy… As long as we survive, it's enough.'
Before he could finish his thought, a hot night wind brushed against his bald head.
A line of blood traced from his scalp, splitting his face down the middle.
In his stunned gaze, Allen's figure, wreathed in smoke, appeared right before him.
Close enough to touch.
Horror and confusion flashed in Grey Hawk's eyes as he stared blankly at the distorted air around Allen's blade…
In the next moment, his face melted like cheese cut by hot oil.
Just like the two Inferno Fireballs that had been split apart behind Allen.
Amidst the screams and wails, the bisected fireballs exploded among the remaining bandits!
The violent blast sent a scorching wave of pressure crashing against Allen's back. The blood staining his swordsman's uniform dried and crusted in an instant.
Allen tossed aside the scorching blade he had used to split the fireball. His own sword had been damaged during the initial Rock Strike.
His skin, scorched by the flames, healed rapidly in the explosion's light. He patted his clothes, and flakes of dried blood fell away. Allen bent down and picked up a blade from the fallen bandit's side.
"So, the most threatening one in the camp was the most inconspicuous… Too bad, the incantation was too slow, and the killing intent was too obvious in my perception… As for what's next…"
He turned his gaze to the edge of the forest, where the rapidly retreating figure of the Leopard was clearly visible.
Allen smiled and stepped forward with his right leg.
"I see."
In the next instant, the Leopard's head fell.
A fountain of blood spurted into the air as his body crumpled to its knees. Two smoke bombs, still unactivated, rolled from his hands. His head tumbled through the air, spinning, spinning…
The Leopard's eyes were filled with confusion.
From the moment the Inferno Fireball was split, his mind had been thrown into chaos.
And Grey Hawk's death immediately after marked the complete and utter destruction of his carefully laid plans, crushed by Allen's overwhelming power.
Reformulate a strategy? Don't make him laugh! Was there even anyone left in the camp to use?
A one-on-one fight? At the same level, the Water God style was stronger than the Sword God style! And Allen not only possessed a perfect self-created technique for deflecting attacks but also knew the Silent Blade.
A monster.
Impossible to defeat. Escape now, regroup, and plan later.
Fear overshadowed his fighting spirit, and without a second thought, he reached for the smoke bombs commonly used by the Leopard faction.
And then, he died.
Without even a chance to draw the Silent Blade.
The Sword God style's killing strikes were often this simple.
In the next second, the light in the Leopard's eyes faded.
His body and head fell to the ground under Allen's gaze.
The blade pierced the air, embedding itself into the ground. The tip of the sword slowly carved a shallow trench between the Leopard's head and severed neck, "dividing" the corpse.
Amidst the sound of dirt being torn, a youthful, harmless voice declared the end of the hunt.
"I cut."
[The fusion of the North God style technique and the self-created Water God style technique has advanced. North God style level increased. Water God style level increased.]
[North God style – Advanced.]
[Water God style – Saint-level.]
The swirling dust and smoke seemed to dance as the words rearranged themselves.
[Evaluation: The dragon's wrath ignited the flames. The flames swept through, and the jackals didn't even have time to whimper.]
Year 412 of the Dragon Calendar.
Midsummer Night.
Allen ascended to the rank of Water Saint.
"I remember Roxy's exact words were, 'The jackals didn't even leave bones behind.'"
[Yet there are plenty of bones on the ground.]
Allen looked down at the Leopard's lifeless body, its eyes wide with shock, and scratched his chin in frustration.
"These bandits were stronger than I expected… Did James really go to such lengths just to kill me?"
"Something feels off… I was planning to keep one alive for interrogation about the details of the bounty, but he pulled out the smoke bombs, so I had no choice but to use the Silent Blade to kill him first. If I had tried to capture him alive, there was a risk he'd escape, and that would've been a disaster."
[A sound decision.]
Allen wrinkled his nose at the smell of burning protein in the air.
"At this point, there's nothing else to do… Even if there's more to this, once I reach King-level, James won't be able to cause any trouble in the face of absolute power."
"Besides, he might not even realize these people were killed by me. At the Red Dragon's Jaw, I only showed my Water God style techniques. Based on their knowledge of me, there's no way they'd believe I could wipe out this group in a single night."
The dust seemed to swirl with amusement.
[Oh? What if they do?]
Allen glanced at the two massive craters left by the Inferno Fireballs. The area where he had stood was relatively untouched, littered with severed limbs and pools of blood. But the edges of the craters were charred black, with a few burning, charred corpses scattered about. Those who had been directly hit by the fireballs were no longer recognizable.
It had to be said, Grey Hawk and the Leopard's plan was meticulous and unexpected.
The scene had been chaotic, with the stronger bandits closing in on Allen quickly. The skilled swordsmen were at the front, while the weaker ones lagged behind.
If Allen's strength had been as they estimated—only at the advanced level of the Water God style—he would have been cut down in the first wave. Grey Hawk could have then redirected his spell upward or toward the nearby lake.
But if Allen's strength far exceeded their expectations, the bandits who had rushed in would serve as obstacles.
Even if Allen could kill them quickly, the barricade of bodies would slow him down, giving Grey Hawk the chance to unleash his spell on the crowd.
A perfect plan. But they hadn't anticipated that Allen could unleash over a dozen Twenty Slashes in an instant.
They had never even seen the Twenty Slashes before. After all, Allen had learned it three years ago from Alex C. Rybak, the second-generation North God, who had visited the Water God's main dojo.
At the time, Alex had been eager to recruit Allen, forcing him to hide in a brothel in the capital for half a month to avoid the complication. After all, Allen was heading to Buena Village, and too many variables could disrupt his plans.
Allen shrugged as he looked at the system panel.
"Even if James figures it out, he won't be able to pinpoint my location. I've never told anyone about my plans to go to Buena Village, so it's a complete blind spot for them."
"At most, they'll stake out Roa. But two years from now, even if they send people, they might not recognize me. And my prolonged silence will likely make James lower his guard."
[Heh, true…]
As the dust settled, Allen smiled and walked toward the craters, swinging his arms as he went.
'Both styles have improved…'
'The Water God style reaching Saint-level was expected.'
'But I still feel more comfortable with the Sword God style. This style is truly unreasonable—it relies entirely on talent and insight. It's difficult, but once you grasp it, the progress is incredibly fast. I'm starting to understand how that cheat-like guy, Jino, feels…'
'The North God style has reached the advanced level, which is strange.'
'Theoretically, the combat style relies on the Healing Magic Rune for temporary boosts. I asked the system before, and temporary power-ups that can't be sustained don't count… So where did the improvement come from… Wait, could it be…'
Allen blinked and tossed the blade in his hand. His body suddenly went limp, falling forward, but just before his face hit the ground, he slammed his hands against the earth. A counterforce surged through his arms and core, his muscles vibrating with combat aura!
In the next moment, Allen flipped sideways in mid-air, landing steadily on the ground.
He caught the falling blade.
Thanks to his foundation in the North God combat style, Allen had grasped the essence of the Four-Limbed Form after seeing it just once.
'The Leopard's Four-Limbed Form really is like a leopard's movements… The Leopard faction has some merits… I've rarely seen anyone use this move in person. In the capital, it's all Water God style swordsmen…'
'I'm still clumsy with it. How can my Four-Limbed Form reach the advanced level? Is it because there are too many advanced North God style swordsmen, leading to a wide range of skill levels?'
[Correct. The skill level of North God style swordsmen in the Leopard faction varies greatly. Some who clearly lack the skill still rise to high positions through underhanded means. Based on your current state, you're slightly below the average advanced-level North God style swordsman by about 10%.]
Allen's curiosity was piqued.
"If you know the average level of advanced North God style swordsmen, how many are there in the world right now?"
The dust seemed to pause for a moment, as if thinking, before the words rearranged.
[…3,340. The North God style is popular among adventurers and bandits, so the numbers are high. Most are concentrated in the conflict zones.]
"Makes sense… There's a North God dojo nearby… What about the Sword God style?"
[…827. Most are concentrated in the Sword Sanctuary.]
"That's reasonable… It matches the size of that illiterate town… High-level Sword God style swordsmen rarely venture out, and since we're not far from the Sword Sanctuary, it's possible to encounter a few. Further south or east, they become even rarer… What about the Water God style?"
[…4,732. Water God style elites are the noble families' most sought-after bodyguards, making it the most widespread style.]
"Makes sense… What about the North Saint…"
[You should focus on the present and not aim too high.]
"Oh…"
While "talking to himself," Allen had already walked into the two charred craters. His boots, dried by the fire, were once again soaked in blood.
He crouched among the scattered remains, using his blade to sift through the gore and entrails. After a while, he sighed and scratched his head.
"There are blades and chunks of flesh everywhere… I can't find my sword's hilt… I shouldn't have cut them so finely."
He glanced at the two burning craters and fell silent for a moment.
"Forget it, I'm not going to find it. I really should leave… This spell's aftermath is too noticeable. If someone comes, it'll be trouble…"
As he spoke, Allen's expression darkened. He turned his gaze toward the forest at the edge of the camp.
The shadows in the trees shifted, the leaves rustling as a figure emerged. Their steps were cautious, hesitant, and filled with uncertainty.
Allen's eyes widened as his gaze traveled upward—from the familiar boots that didn't reach the knees, to the black stockings, the hem of a mage's robe, a swaying aqua-blue braid, a heaving chest, and finally, a pair of thin lips parted in shock…
His eyes met hers.
It was Roxy.
She was breathing heavily, her hand covering her mouth as she stared at Allen, frozen in place.
The night breeze blew between them, but it couldn't dispel the thick stench of blood and burning flesh.
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 110 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 100 power stones I will publish the next chapter.