Chapter 186: The Third (3)

“….”

Werner.

The last word that slipped from Cecilia’s lips like a sigh.

The moment Hagio heard it, his already sour mood plummeted to rock bottom.

Why had Cecilia done something so unthinkable?

Because her life was held hostage?

It was a convincing explanation, but another, even more compelling one came to mind.

Her brother.

If not only her life but also that of Werner, the rank 10 Godok, was at stake… Cecilia would have had no choice.

That thought flashed through Hagio’s mind.

“Damn it.”

A curse escaped his lips.

Cecilia’s tragic end wasn’t her story alone.

It was a tale shared by all Godoks, whose fates were pawned to the enigmatic entity called the ‘village.’

Even Hagio himself, until two years ago, had been collared, forced to move at the pace and direction the village demanded.

‘Cecilia, Werner. Perhaps… even after escaping the village, you’ve been enslaved to another.’

The thought made it impossible to shake off the heavy feeling, despite the situation being resolved.

Who was doing this?

What damned bastards refused to leave them alone to live peacefully, using them as chess pieces?

‘…My current strength isn’t enough.’

Hagio nodded to himself.

Yes.

To the outside world, his martial prowess was dazzling, unmatched by any peer.

But the enemies he faced were far too formidable.

Whether it was the village, the Black Hydra, the Red Magician, or some third force… they were beyond what Hagio could handle now.

‘This won’t do.’

In the past, he might have accepted it.

A worthless life, shattered by any wave—it wouldn’t have mattered.

But not anymore.

Now, he had the orphanage children, more precious than his own life.

And, though not to the same degree, the people of Marzen, who had become dear connections.

And Harang, still peculiar but now a good friend, couldn’t be overlooked.

Thinking of them all, Hagio couldn’t afford to collapse powerlessly.

No matter what struggle it took, he had to stand firm, acting as a breakwater for the children who looked only to him.

‘Once this is over, I need to push my training harder.’

Though he was already stronger than many at the Seton Swordsmanship Festival, that wasn’t enough.

At least Sword Master.

Perhaps even beyond.

He vowed not to fall into complacency or arrogance until he reached that level.

As Hagio made this internal resolve and turned his gaze from Cecilia’s corpse.

Boom!

“…!”

A tremendous roar.

It wasn’t from outside the castle.

It came from within, from the upper floors where Harang was likely headed.

‘Damn, I wasted too much time wallowing in useless sentiment.’

Realizing his mistake, Hagio quickly prepared and moved toward the upper floors.

Yes, the situation wasn’t over.

Lingering in a daze in a castle still rife with dangers was a mistake unbecoming of a former Godok.

‘It should be fine for now. The fight’s probably just started. If so, I can join him quickly.’

Nodding again, Hagio picked up his pace.

Only Cecilia’s cold corpse remained, silently guarding the spot he left.

***

Step, step

Some time before Cecilia and Hagio’s fight.

Harang’s steps toward the upper floors were faster than walking but slow for the urgent situation.

His mind wasn’t settled.

‘Daereon.’

He called Daereon’s name inwardly.

Their relationship hadn’t always been close.

In fact, Daereon had come as an assassin to take his life, and Harang had poisoned him, using him as he pleased.

But when had it changed?

When Daereon, despite being kidnapped by Dukan Iter, refused to reveal Harang’s location?

Or when he lightened the mercenary corps’ mood with his witty, if trivial, jokes?

Or perhaps when he diligently followed the grueling training that left others collapsing?

At some point, Daereon had become one of Marzen’s precious connections.

‘I can’t lose him.’

Hum

Hummmm-

A haze-like energy emanated from Harang’s body.

For someone who usually controlled his Aura perfectly, this was rare, but now was an exception.

Rage and frustration boiling to the brim made him feel like a volcano about to erupt.

Zzzzing…

Unbeknownst to him, the necklace in the pouch given by a demon emitted a faint sound and a soft glow, further stirring his emotions.

But Harang was unaware.

‘Calm down, calm down.’

Reaching the top floor, Harang let out a deep breath.

He couldn’t let anger consume him.

Anger was a tool to enhance his swordsmanship, but losing composure to it would only make him vulnerable to being toyed with by the enemy.

Hadn’t he seen it in the village?

Countless peers, acting recklessly under emotion, were foolishly killed—enough to fill two carts.

“Yes, let’s stay calm for now.”

It wasn’t about erasing anger.

It was about taming it, not letting it run wild like a feral horse but making it move explosively when needed, like a well-trained warhorse.

That was the proper way to infuse emotion into swordsmanship.

With that thought, Harang steeled his mind and opened the door to the room on the top floor.

“…!”

The first thing he saw was a man sitting cross-legged on a floor marked with an inverted pentagram.

His back was to Harang, muttering incomprehensible words, but what caught Harang’s attention more was the Black Hydra tattoo on the back of his neck.

‘The Third Hydra!’

A higher number than the one he’d met in Dark City Kalbaron!

Harang’s expression grew serious.

There was nothing worse than facing a powerful enemy in a crisis.

But something even worse followed.

Eeeeek-

Kyaaa-

A scream, as if dragged from the depths of the abyss, grazed Harang’s ears and was sucked into the Third Hydra’s body at the center of the inverted pentagram.

A cursed ritual.

Like the Fourth Hydra, who overdosed on a Black Magician’s elixir, the Third Hydra was enhancing his body through black magic.

Hummmm-!

Realizing this, Harang swiftly drew his sword, manifesting an Aura Sword.

He couldn’t stay idle.

Though he hadn’t yet heard about the hostages’ safety, standing defenseless before such ominous energy was tantamount to handing his life to the enemy.

“….”

The only reason he didn’t strike first was a slim possibility.

The chance that the hostages might still be alive.

The possibility that he could negotiate peacefully with the Black Hydra before him and rescue them.

It was a thought he’d never entertain normally, an action he’d never consider in the village.

But the current Harang wasn’t a Godok.

He was just an ordinary human, emotional before his connections.

And so.

“…Why are you hesitating?”

“What?”

“You’ve already guessed, haven’t you? This ritual… was performed at the cost of the hostages’ lives. Refining their life force to enhance my power…”

When the Third Hydra said the hostages were already dead.

Paradoxically, Harang could unleash an Aura far greater than any Godok could muster.

Thud-!

In his rage, Harang took a swift step forward.

Just one step, but it closed an immense distance, as if the ground had folded.

The Third Hydra’s face filled with shock.

Hastily drawing his sword, he struggled to parry Harang’s incoming attack.

Boom!

A tremendous roar echoed.

It was unbelievable that it came from a clash of swords.

For an ordinary person, their eardrums would burst, blood flowing from their ears, but the two, protected by Aura, continued swinging their swords, striving to exploit each other’s weaknesses.

Bang

Boom!

Boom-boom!

Their swords clashed relentlessly.

Pow!

Pow!

Pow-pow!

The resulting shockwaves pounded the castle’s walls.

As the entire castle shook with their continuous clashes, the Third Hydra thought, incredulous.

‘Is this possible?’

The Third Hydra was strong.

At least below the Master level, he was an unmatched swordsman.

His Aura’s power, swordsmanship’s precision, and physical resilience were on a level incomparable to other swordsmen.

And that wasn’t all.

Enhanced by a Black Magician’s secret arts, he was over 1.5 times stronger.

With a proper weapon, he was confident he could hold his own against those touching the Sword Master realm.

Yet…

‘I’m being pushed back!’

Not just pushed back.

He was being overwhelmed, one-sidedly.

No matter how fiercely he swung his sword, he couldn’t reach his opponent.

No matter how quickly he moved, he couldn’t escape Harang’s attack range.

And it didn’t stop there.

Like a wildfire growing fiercer, Harang’s Aura grew hotter, more intense.

Clang!

Pow!

Boom-boom-boom!

“…Hup! Cough, cough!”

Finally, before 100 exchanges, the fight was decided.

The Third Hydra, fully focused on blocking Harang’s sword strikes, couldn’t stop a kick aimed at a gap, taking a massive blow to his chest and crashing into the wall.

If the castle were any older, he might have been blasted outside entirely.

“Cough, cough!”

Blood-mixed coughs spilled from the Hydra’s mouth.

Of course, Harang wasn’t satisfied.

He stepped forward to deliver the final blow.

Hummmm-!

His Aura Sword burned sharper, hotter.

It lacked the usual refined precision but exuded an overwhelming aura, as if swallowing molten lava.

Placing it near the Hydra’s neck, he asked.

“Why are you smiling like you’re pleased?”

“If I tell you, will you spare me?”

“No chance.”

“Then let’s not waste energy and end it.”

“Fine.”

Swish

Slash!

Thud…

The sword swung before the words finished, and the Third Hydra’s head fell powerlessly.

An empty end.

An empty outcome.

Sheathing his Aura Sword, Harang stared blankly at the Hydra’s corpse, as if his soul had left him.

This wasn’t how it should have been.

He should have kept him alive longer.

He should have coerced or threatened him to extract information about the Red Magician or the village.

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t want to.

When he realized Daereon and the hostages were dead, the Third Hydra’s fate was sealed.

As Harang’s mood sank to the depths.

Step, step

Footsteps approached.

From below, heading up.

It was likely Hagio.

The problem was the other sound following his footsteps.

Steadier and lighter than an ordinary person’s.

But clumsier than a Godok’s… a faint noise that could be called frivolous.

Realizing who it was, Harang’s face lit up brighter than ever as he rushed toward them, soon confirming the face he’d hoped for.

“Boss, Harang Boss! I’m alive!”

“….”

There was no need to say his name aloud.

No.

Honestly, his throat was too choked to speak.

‘Daereon.’

Calling his precious friend’s name inwardly, Harang sheathed his sword and embraced Daereon tightly.

At that moment, Harang felt he had completely broken free from being a Godok.

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