Chapter 108 : Chapter 108

Chapter 108: The Road Ahead Will Be Long (8)

This is maddening.

“First the shield giant, and now…”

I trailed off, frowning. The monstrous hulk had casually picked up a corpse at his feet, as if it were a pebble on the road. Then, without warning, he hurled it at me.

Whoosh!

Keeping my eyes on him, I dodged with a twist of my body.

The corpse flew past, crashing with a thud, its limbs bent unnaturally.

My gaze returned to the monstrous hulk.

It wasn’t over.

He grabbed another corpse, threw it, and missed again…

“Hey, wait a second…!”

“You crazy bastard!”

This time, he lifted two living men simultaneously.

“S-Stay… back.”

Whoosh!

Living humans soared toward me like magical projectiles.

I hesitated briefly on how to react, then realized they were enemies I’d have to deal with anyway. I slashed them mid-air.

I was about to say something when—

“Hngh, hrrk…!”

The last remaining man, aside from Callence and the hulk, let out a strange whimper and started backing away.

He must’ve thought he was next, scared out of his wits.

Thwack—!

Callence cut him down in one swift stroke.

“…”

Stunned by the absurdity unfolding before me, my body froze.

Callence muttered, looking at me.

“You’ve seen me at my worst. My apologies, Bihen Benkou.”

He calmly sheathed his blood-dripping Bastard Sword into the scabbard on his back.

Was he finally catching his breath?

His face relaxed as he spoke.

“To part ways at our first meeting—such a pity. I should’ve met you sooner.”

“Yeah, maybe then I wouldn’t have gone through all this.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

Callence extended his hand toward me, a smug smile on his face.

“Bihen Benkou, won’t you join me?”

“Cut the nonsense. How could a tiger serve a mongrel?”

“Even that spirit of yours is to my liking. It’d be a waste to kill you here.”

…Wait. Something’s off.

“You keep spouting drivel. It’s not me who’s dying here, Callence—it’s you. Have you lost your mind?”

Instead of answering, Callence twisted one corner of his mouth and glanced at Roland and the others nearby.

“I’ll deal with them after I’ve dealt with you. In other words, they’ll live as long as Balrok keeps you busy. You understand what that means, don’t you?”

So the monster’s name is Balrok.

I slowly shifted my gaze from him to the side.

Roland, Henry, Ayan, and the refugees’ anxious breaths and uneasy eyes were all fixed on me.

Our eyes met.

“You’re going to an awful lot of trouble to say you’ll hold them hostage. At least you’ve got some shame.”

“Heh. I can’t just let you run wild.”

I took it to mean he’d suppress me to prevent me from using techniques like Sword Aura.

As if that would change the outcome. Callence, brimming with confidence, kept talking.

“Though we’re enemies, I’m impressed. Not only did you defeat Four Wings, but you broke through an army’s encirclement alone to get here. No words can fully describe that feat.”

“…”

“But that ends now. You’re human, so you must be at your limit.”

Callence placed a hand on Balrok’s body, as if handling a pet.

“But Balrok has no limits. He’s a freak. He doesn’t tire, doesn’t falter, doesn’t collapse like you. While you struggle, this place will soon be swarming with my soldiers, leaving no room to stand.”

He ended with a contemptuous smile.

“Can you handle it, Bihen Benkou?”

The term “impervious to blades” doesn’t necessarily mean transcendental power—it’s more akin to describing something like an indestructible body or monstrous strength.

‘It’s not perfect.’

And it’s not achieved through mastery of martial prowess either?

I blew a breath onto Zahara Toxeed.

“A freak, huh? Just a beast that blades don’t easily pierce—nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s the spirit of a Sword Fiend. This’ll be a rare spectacle. Balrok, don’t rush in. Wearing him down is enough.”

Balrok nodded, as if absorbing his master’s command.

“Come, Bihen Benkou.”

The voice alone confirmed he was a freak—more like a beast growling.

Swallowing a curse, I cracked my neck side to side and launched forward.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Balrok wielded no weapons.

He blocked Zahara Toxeed with forearms thicker than both my legs combined, producing metallic clangs.

Whoosh—!

His fists were like iron maces.

The sound as they grazed my ears was downright vicious.

Tap—tap—!

Like climbing a wall, I stepped up his thigh, stomach, and chest, then leaped.

His head couldn’t be made of iron too, could it?

I drove Zahara, gripped in reverse, straight down.

Crunch—!

A chill ran through me.

The sound definitely came from his crown.

It felt like the blade hit metal.

Don’t underestimate me, Bihen.

This time, I plunged Toxeed into his nape and sawed viciously.

Holding Zahara tightly, legs hooked over his shoulders, I hacked like I was cutting tough meat—an ugly sight even to myself.

Scrape! Scrape! Screeech—!

The dull blade grated against metal, producing a stiff friction sound.

That was it.

Not even a gash opened—just faint scratches on a solid iron pillar.

Thud!

“Ugh…!”

A bone-crushing pressure hit me.

Balrok had seized my lower body.

Through the gap between my legs, I saw his grinning face.

BOOM—!

My body flew, crashing into a stone pillar with excruciating pain shooting through my back.

Pain was secondary; humiliation came first.

“I told you, Imperial swordsman. It’s futile.”

Callence mocked from behind Balrok.

Murderous rage surged within me.

Calm down.

Standing, I barely suppressed the boiling anger.

Balrok stood motionless, like a bizarre rock formation mimicking a human.

Just looking at him made my breath catch.

‘Next to him, Bolero would look downright cute.’

The thought struck me.

Bolero and Jayden—were they safe?

They wouldn’t charge recklessly like me.

They’d fight smart and win somehow.

‘…’

Focus. No time for distractions.

“Hoo.”

I exhaled deeply.

It felt pathetic to admit, but I was in terrible shape.

I had to accept that.

‘The target is Callence.’

Don’t forget.

Pride and the urge to win were meaningless now.

‘Ignore Balrok and go for Callence.’

When I ambushed Callence earlier, his reaction was surprisingly quick, but if I poured everything in, Balrok wouldn’t catch me.

The problem was Balrok standing immovable beside Callence.

Was there a way to draw him out?

…No.

Balrok was just a mindless killing machine controlled by Callence.

Taunts wouldn’t work.

Quake Earth?

The ground wasn’t suitable, and Roland’s group was too close.

Frost Sword would backfire, and Kampringen would send me straight to the underworld.

‘No way out.’

I glanced at Zahara Toxeed.

Damn Anderson.

What kind of “cursed blade” was this?

Swish.

I adjusted my stance, mentally apologizing to Zahara Toxeed.

BOOM!

Here we go.

No use wasting my dwindling strength on overthinking.

The heat of Ghost Eye enveloped my face.

A blue trail must be streaking behind me as I charged.

‘Blood Points.’

Balrok’s massive form inverted into shadows, revealing red six-pointed stars: Baihui at the crown, Fengfu at the nape, Jianzhong at the chest, Danwon below the navel, and Quchi on both arms.

No different from a human’s Blood Points.

As expected, since he wasn’t entirely inhuman.

Clang! Clang!

I aimed precisely at the Blood Points.

The sensation through my grip was chillingly futile.

He didn’t even dodge.

His movements were slow, unrefined—he didn’t need finesse.

His entire body was an iron shield.

Regretting my earlier bravado about blade imperviousness…

Swish!

His fist grazed my forehead.

A split-second difference.

If I’d spent even a moment thinking, my skull would’ve been crushed.

Splurt!

Blood sprayed with a slight delay.

My forehead felt hot—it must’ve torn from the graze.

No time for whining.

I spotted an opening at Balrok’s side.

As blood clouded my vision, I lunged in.

“Got you.”

The moment I felt a massive grip on my nape…

BOOM—!

My body flew back, searing pain ripping through my spine as I hit another pillar.

Sliding down, I coughed up blood-mixed phlegm.

“Bihen!”

Amidst it all, I felt a strange relief.

My allies’ shouts drowned out the pathetic groan I’d let slip.

“Ugh…”

Did I hit my head?

My vision blurred, afterimages overlapping.

Tap, tap.

I slapped my temple.

Dizzying.

Get it together, idiot.

“Bihen Benkou.”

Even spoken softly, his voice echoed clearly.

I forced my eyes open, glaring up.

Callence looked down at me from a distance, his face feigning pity.

“A pitiful swordsman. All that struggle, and nothing changes.”

What must my expression look like?

One thing was certain: my composure was crumbling.

The final moment of my past life.

It eerily mirrored this one.

“Nothing changes with your struggle. I’ll give you one last chance. Stand down.”

Griem Igraine, who took my life in my past existence.

Callence recited the next line, still vivid in my memory.

“Why choose a meaningless death?”

I cursed the heavens.

No, I cursed myself.

How much karma had I accumulated to keep reliving such humiliating moments?

A hollow laugh escaped me.

“This is insane.”

“Hm?”

“It’s so unfair I could cry.”

“…Heh. That’s the life of a warrior.”

Unbeknownst to me, my clenched fists trembled.

I’d bitten down so hard that fragments of broken molars rolled in my mouth.

‘Think, damn it, think.’

Squeeze out something—anything—to land a solid hit on this bastard.

As I desperately prayed inwardly…

A commotion grew louder from afar, approaching from the surface.

Callence and Balrok’s gazes turned simultaneously, and I couldn’t help but follow.

My focus was pathetic.

“Huh.”

A deflated sound escaped my lips.

Someone was approaching from the shadows.

In my exhausted state, this would surely be a burden, yet…

Oddly, I felt glad rather than annoyed.

Maybe because it’d been a while.

“…Joel.”

I must be really worn out for my heart to soften like this.

“Joel!”

My allies’ voices called out, finally noticing him.

Step, step.

I glanced up at the approaching footsteps.

Joel’s boot tips came into view, his gait unsteady, on the verge of collapse.

“Sir Bihen.”

He abruptly helped me up.

Should I say thanks?

Looking at his face, he was a mess, as if he’d rolled through a battlefield.

His face was caked in blood, eyelids barely staying open.

“You’re alive, somehow.”

“…”

I asked after him, but no reply.

From his face, he didn’t seem to have the energy.

At that moment, I locked eyes with Callence.

He couldn’t hide a flicker of surprise.

After all his bravado, it wasn’t his men who arrived.

Still, aware of me, he stood frozen, which was amusing enough to make me chuckle.

“Sir Bihen.”

His voice, calling me as if on death’s door, sounded utterly wretched.

Turning, I saw Joel release my arm from his shoulder, step back, and look up at me.

“I’ve realized… my strength is still far lacking.”

“What, you’re only figuring that out now…?”

“Please, take it.”

Why did he have to sound so dramatic?

I glanced at him, away from Callence.

Joel held a sword in both hands.

The irritation in my eyes softened a bit.

It felt like reuniting with an old friend.

Come to think of it, the situation was eerily similar to back then.

‘Blood Lion.’

As my gaze landed on it, Joel suddenly dropped to one knee.

“The will of Sir Eugene’s sword.”

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