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Chapter – 08
Showing His True Skill (4)
Everyone was in shock.
The owner of the shelter, who had long suffered under the Demon Hunters’ constant misconduct, feared that a bloody revenge would now begin.
The customers who had been watching were stunned that the bald man—who had always acted as the enforcer of the Demon Hunters—had been killed instantly.
And the members of the Demon Hunters were shaken by the fact that their comrade had died right before their eyes.
But there was one shared point of shock above all else.
Shakron had used a fork to kill the bald man.
Ordinary tools like that were extremely difficult—almost impossible—to channel sword energy into.
Which was exactly why they were not considered proper “weapons.”
Too much sword energy would break them. Too little would fail to kill.
But Shakron controlled it perfectly.
Because in the Tower of Radiance, adaptability was everything.
Those who could not respond to sudden variables never survived the Tower.
Shakron had seen countless people die that way.
They had all come from different worlds. Some even had connections within the Western Continent.
‘I wonder how they’re doing.’
Someone came to mind.
Among the connections he had made in the Tower, there were indeed people from this continent. He would likely meet them again soon.
In any case, the situation had already been decided.
People who treated violence as basic manners were not worth tolerating.
And he had even less intention of enduring humiliation from them.
He would rather die than suffer disgrace.
That was Shakron’s belief.
“Kill that bastard!”
A mage shouted.
He was a man with short, striking red hair.
He was the leader of the Demon Hunters.
At his command, everyone drew their swords or aimed their staves at Shakron.
“You’re opposing me? That means you’re prepared to die for insulting House Midios and Lord Crasus.”
Shakron casually invoked his family name.
That was exactly what noble houses were for.
House Midios. Crasus.
In the North, ignorance of those names would make one a spy.
At least among nobles—commoners might not know him personally, but the house itself was infamous.
At the mention of the name, four of the nine Demon Hunters hesitated.
They did not want to make an enemy of a ducal house.
“Those who step back will not be punished. But the moment you point your blade at me, you become enemies of the entire house.”
“Don’t hesitate! The dead don’t speak! Kill him!”
But five of them, driven by pride, charged immediately.
Four swordsmen and one mage.
The mage cast a spell to obscure Shakron’s vision, trying to limit the battlefield.
However—
Shakron had already lifted his sword from under the table and placed it horizontally.
He used the flat of the blade to block his vision, completely negating the spell.
A simple method—but timing had to be perfect.
For Shakron, who had used countless such adaptations in the Tower, it was trivial.
‘Amateurs.’
That was the word he thought as he watched them rush in.
‘Not worth using both hands.’
He slid his left hand into his pocket—an unmistakable provocation.
“Crazy bastard!”
One of the swordsmen snapped and charged forward.
They were overly aggressive types who had abandoned all concept of defense.
To them, offense was everything.
But they misunderstood the saying “offense is the best defense” as “just attack endlessly.”
“……”
Shakron narrowed his eyes at the closest attacker.
The sword swings looked flashy, but they were empty.
To ordinary people, it would look like relentless pressure.
To Shakron, it was nothing more than predictable movement.
Then—
Swoosh!
A loud explosion echoed from where Shakron had stood.
But he was gone.
He had used sword energy not just for attack, but as propulsion.
A technique unique to him.
“……?”
The swordsman lost track of him.
Shakron had already slipped past his flank.
Slash!
“Guh!”
The man’s wild sword swings failed to touch him.
Every movement was predictable.
To Shakron, it was like avoiding simple obstacles.
Slice—!
Blood sprayed everywhere.
A gutted wound revealed torn organs spilling outward.
Then—
Swish.
Without even looking, Shakron swung his greatsword behind him.
A head cleanly severed from a body fell to the ground.
“W-what… Bran is dead…”
“Wasn’t he also a 3-star swordsman like Charles?”
“How did he die so easily?”
“M-MidioS House… could it be the eldest son, Villan?”
“No, Villan isn’t this handsome…”
“Isn’t this like a child’s fight getting interrupted by an adult?”
From the second and third floors, the spectators watched in disbelief.
The Demon Hunters had been able to dominate this place because they were elite.
3-star swordsmen. 3rd-class mages.
On paper, they were strong enough to be recruited into imperial knight orders.
But Shakron had already killed two of them without a scratch.
A single point became a line.
A controlled, precise motion.
No flamboyant movements.
No wasted motion.
Only efficient execution.
Shakron showed no mercy to those who showed hostility toward him.
Soon, his movements stopped.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Only then did the severed heads fall to the floor.
They did not even realize they were dead.
And then—
“So, boss. What about you?”
The tip of Shakron’s greatsword rested against the red-haired leader’s throat.
The battle had already ended.
All that remained was surrender.
Sometime later
The five Demon Hunters who had fled immediately abandoned their comrades.
A wise decision.
Four had been killed instantly, and their leader was captured.
Shakron did not bother chasing them.
Even ten or twenty of them would not matter.
They were too easy to defeat individually.
“Wow! That was refreshing!”
“House Midios is reliable after all!”
“So that must be the youngest young master?”
“The ghost of House Midios…”
“Shhh! Be careful with your words! He’s a hero!”
Among the praises, there were also some subtle insults, but Shakron didn’t care.
It was true enough.
The “ghost” of House Midios was stretching its wings again.
And doing so fully.
Meanwhile, the owner of the Arcio Shelter rushed forward and bowed repeatedly, tears in his eyes.
“Thank you… truly. Many people witnessed this. If the guards investigate, I will testify for you.”
“So will I! Those Demon Hunters have been trash for a long time!”
“They started it first—this response is justified!”
People eagerly raised their hands to support him.
Even Shakron, who had grown emotionally distant, could feel a faint warmth from this.
“Take care of the weapons of the dead. I’ll collect them later. Also gather the gold.”
“Yes, sir!”
The innkeeper, now fully loyal, quickly collected the greatswords and gold coins.
Four swords and 100 gold coins were gathered. Selling the swords alone would bring at least 300 gold.
‘Money really does gather wherever I go.’
Things were going well.
And the surviving leader—
He was the “bonus reward” Shakron had targeted from the beginning.
Shk.
The blade pressed against his neck.
Blood trickled down instantly.
“Choose. Die painfully like a chicken… or give up everything and live. What will it be?”
There was no time to think.
“P-please… spare me!”
He collapsed to his knees.
His pride meant nothing now.
To survive, he had to beg.
“Take me to your base. That’s the price of your life.”
Shakron said calmly.
It was time to extract maximum value.
Meanwhile, elsewhere
“This is getting annoying. I keep chasing his tail… where did he go?”
“Blasian Mountain right after leaving the mansion…?”
Boledo continued pursuing Shakron.
He thought he would find him quickly, but everywhere he went, Shakron had already left.
Even after checking villages near where Dukeal died, there were no traces.
“How ridiculous…”
The situation was absurd.
Just days ago, the boy had been struggling inside the mansion.
Now he had left, killed a monster in the northern region, and earned a massive bounty.
At this point, Crasus’s suspicion of a “demon contract” almost seemed believable.
