Diancang Sect.
It occasionally appears like a regular in martial arts novels, generally dealing in speed-oriented swordsmanship as one of the Nine Sects and One Faction.
And it was also a name that remained in the memory of Ihan, who once stood guard reading martial arts novels day and night.
The reason it stayed in his memory?
- Shooting the sun, piercing it... Wow, even if it's fiction, that's cool.
The She Ri Sword Technique that declared it would shoot down the sun, the Luo Ri Saber Technique that vowed to drop the sun, and even the Guan Ri Spear Technique that promised to pierce the sun.
The names of the martial arts alone remained well in his memory.
However, it only remained in his memory; as he read more about the Diancang Sect, he often found himself disappointed.
- How does just swinging fast drop the sun?
He was disappointed once seeing the appearance of swordsmen who just swung fast, obsessed only with speed swordsmanship, desperately trying to cut people.
Rather than this, wouldn't it be better to change the sword technique's name from She Ri (Shooting Sun) to She Ren (Shooting Person) Sword Technique?
- If they're going to protect their identity, they should at least pretend to throw a spear at the sky. All grand names and nothing to back it up.
But that's easy to say; how could a human body reach the sun?
Even missiles, those clubs of destruction, can't go beyond the stratosphere.
So perhaps, unlike their technique names, they could only cut people.
At the time, Ihan had mocked himself, thinking he was having strange imaginations because of sleep deprivation.
But now.
'I never thought I'd actually put this into practice.'
The moment you put something you only imagined into practice, it ceases to be imagination.
Ihan was now trying to recreate Guan Ri (Piercing Sun).
In a way so ignorant it couldn't be called anything else.
"Grrrrgh!"
"Put more spirit into it, slave."
"I, I'm not a slave!"
"If you hate being called that, then do a better job."
"Aaaargh!!"
The mage screaming like a shriek.
Oddwall Bernard,
The professor of the Magic Department had floated a tree into the air.
Floating a 600kg mass of wood into the air—it was truly an absurd and unrealistic sight.
It was a passage that showed why a mage alone could be called the terror of the battlefield.
But no matter how strong one's psychokinesis, there were limits.
Magical power was not infinite, and just holding up that much weight required all of one's concentration.
But Ihan didn't care how much the guy was suffering and asked.
"You've eliminated air resistance as much as possible, right?"
"I, I wrote down the spell formulas! I even put in three whole enchantments!"
"Only?"
"!!?"
"You insufficient fellow."
"Grr! You only gave me 10 days, how am I supposed to do more than five enchantments!"
Ihan's demands were many.
Strengthening the object's durability, air resistance reduction, increased penetration power, and adding fire magic, among other things.
It was essentially equivalent to telling him to whip up a decisive weapon on the spot.
But this would be a command that any mage in the kingdom would balk at.
In the first place, the number of enchantments that could be placed on an object was limited.
So Oddwall's skill in placing 3 enchantments in just 10 days was clearly extraordinary, and his suffering was beyond words.
As evidence of his suffering, Oddwall's face, which already showed severe signs of aging, was now breaking out in dark spots to an alarming degree.
It was an appearance that couldn't be believed to belong to a man in his twenties.
However.
"Well, if this is the best, it can't be helped. Useless slave."
The spellcaster's suffering was none of his concern.
"!?!!"
"Shut up, you bastard. If my concentration wavers, you're the first one I'll kill."
"Grr...!"
Ignoring the useless spellcaster's struggles effortlessly, he heightened his concentration solely toward one target.
'I'll work with what I have.'
Ihan didn't do the foolish thing of clinging to what he couldn't have.
So he only strove to produce the best effect with the prepared materials.
What was prepared was the projectile.
And he focused only on the ballista filled with a massive amount of gunpowder extracted from the princess.
In reality, since there was no launch platform in the kingdom that could strike such a massive projectile and launch it high into the sky, no one knew if this attempt would succeed.
But Ihan believed.
In his own 'sturdy body.'
Ihan had to become the hammer that would strike the massive projectile from now on.
No matter how confident he was in everything, even he couldn't dare to kick such a heavy object.
If it breaks, it breaks; how could one throw such a fragile thing without breaking it?
But now it was possible.
Since it was coated with psychokinesis, it wouldn't be entirely impossible.
'Push-strike!'
Push-strike.
A striking technique that doesn't hit or break, but merely pushes an object away.
Originally, it was often done with the palm, but Ihan used his leg.
Leg strength possessing more than five times the muscle power and destructive power of the arms.
And utilizing the shift of his entire body weight—testing the limits of Jing.
Crack!
A sound came that made one worry his leg might burst, but he ignored it now.
Whoosh!
The condensed power at the tip of his foot, centrifugal force, and the help of the sixth sense and intuition that an ordinary human could never possess were added, and the kick...
Kuuung-!!
Erupted with the massive force to push the giant projectile.
Of course.
Puwhack!
He had to accept his right leg bursting open.
Even so, there couldn't be no sacrifice in launching such a projectile.
One leg was dyed in blood, and Ihan smiled despite the momentary pain.
It wasn't because he was a pervert who enjoyed pain.
Whoosh!
"It's flying well."
The smile came because he intuitively sensed a result that couldn't be more satisfactory.
Huwoong-!
The ballista flew like a javelin.
The log spear enhanced with magical treatment reached the dark clouds in perfect condition, and finally...
Puwooook!!
Kwajik!
[[----!!]]
Precisely piercing the center of the giant's wrist, his spear...
"Boom."
Kwaaang!!
It exploded right on time as if matching Ihan's playful provocation.
The spear containing his wholehearted power fully embraced his strength, and that alone was enough to become a massive bomb.
Additionally.
Flarrr!
The massive amount of gunpowder inside the exploded spear caught fire and began to burn the giant's hand.
Guan Ri Spear.
The spearhead containing Ihan's unique interpretation pierced through a monster instead of the sun.
"Wh-what is that..."
"...Good heavens."
The people watching the series of events from the ground lost their words.
The giant and devil of legend.
There exists a legend that the Knight King and Lion King who annihilated them split the giant and devil in half in a single stroke.
But legends were just legends, and no one believed them as real stories.
But now...
'Was that legend actually true?'
Giant Killing.
People were so dumbfounded that they wondered if that legend wasn't actually a fictional tale, but a tradition created based on a real existing story.
And they focused their attention.
On the figure of a certain knight showing the legend of Giant Killing.
Specifically, him standing firmly in the center of the colosseum.
The knight....
"Hmm, Gom-soon-ah."
"Y-yes?"
"Help evacuate the people right now. That assistant guy should be evacuating everyone by now, but he alone probably won't be enough. Even if you have to mobilize all the Swordsmanship Department kids, make sure everyone gets out, understand?"
"Ye-yes?"
"Tsk, I guess even this isn't enough."
"??"
...A bitter look was evident, and Levi Polt blinked, wondering what he was talking about.
Creak.
"Look."
"......Ah."
Instead of explaining, he pointed at the sky, saying it would be better to see for herself, and Levi Polt understood why he had issued the evacuation order.
Squirm... Squirm...!
It was hard to believe, but the giant's arm was steadily regenerating even while burning.
Also.
[GR-RR-!]
It was still being 'summoned.'
...Horrifyingly so.
* * *
"Evacuate, evacuate! Stop spacing out and evacuate, you commoners!!"
Damian Pollet was steeped in aristocratic supremacism, but contrary to his ideology and harsh words, the slave assistant instructor was desperately evacuating people to save even a single life.
He was sweating profusely as he evacuated people, and along the way, he directly carried pregnant women and the elderly who couldn't support themselves on his back or in his arms to move them outside.
His body screamed, but he gritted his teeth.
Because he didn't know how many victims would emerge if he left things as they were.
And he thought.
'It really turned out exactly as that guy said!'
That the words of the instructor, whom he thought had gone crazy, were actually true.
Damian Pollet recalled 10 days ago.
When he suddenly brought him and the Magic Department professor Oddwall and gave them orders.
- On the last day of the evaluation, a monster will appear from somewhere. So you two prepare to help me with everything you've got.
- ...Are you on drugs?
- Just crazy.
Honestly, at that time, both Damian and Oddwall thought it was crazy nonsense.
Since that man spouting nonsense wasn't a one-time or two-time thing, they thought he was doing it on purpose to torment them.
So Damian had said teasingly.
- If that's the case, why not inform the Dean or the Royal Palace? That a monster will appear.
- I already reported it. But they told me to stop barking and get lost.
- ...You already did.
He thought the instructor was a crazier bastard than he'd thought.
He'd already filed a report.
He thought that even for crazy behavior, this was how you'd be called a 'real' lunatic.
But.
- I requested through an acquaintance to send Aura Users, but by some coincidence, all the Aura Users were away. In Baltar Grace's case, he has to protect the king so he can't leave the Royal Palace.
- .......
Aura Users.
From the moment the name of superhumans came up, they could no longer claim this was crazy behavior.
The instructor was serious to the end, and with a gleam in his eyes, he was truly convinced that a monster would appear on the last day of the evaluation.
- So we have to stop it.
- U-us?
- Why me...?
Damian and Oddwall asked.
No, there are plenty of other people, so why us of all people?
To such a question, the instructor said.
- Your lives are mine anyway, right? Then I can use them as I please.
...He spat out a remark that made his humanity suspect—no, one that truly treated them like criminal slaves, and they almost burst with anger.
- N-no! Still, why us, no, why are you stepping forward, Instructor! Since when were you someone so consumed by heroism?!
Damian shouted, bracing himself to be beaten up for his outrage.
Because the instructor he knew wasn't such a heroic person, but simply a human with terrible personality.
Then why was he taking such self-sacrificing actions?
So unfittingly!
Damian closed his eyes tightly, preparing to be hit like that.
- We have to save the kids.
- ...What?
Unexpectedly, instead of getting angry, he merely let out an annoyed grumble.
- The higher-ups say they can't believe me because there's no evidence. And it's a situation where no one will help. Maybe not just our kids, but even the kids who will come to watch our kids that day might all die...
- .......
- Yeah, just as you say, this might only be a possibility. Maybe I'm just crazy. Maybe I'm worrying for nothing. But so what? If a monster really does appear that day, who will take responsibility, and who will help those kids?
- .......
- Right, no one. No one, damn it...! Nobody wants to help while taking a loss, so what then? I have to move.
- ...Why?
Damian's question contained many things.
Why, when no one believes him, in a situation that might be grandiose delusion, does he not run away but try to fight?
Damian was curious about the reason, and the instructor answered without a moment's hesitation.
- I move because I don't want to see human lives as numbers like those higher-up bastards who only preach justifications, why!
- .......
...Damian was overwhelmed.
It wasn't flowery rhetoric, nor did it have any proper logic or justification—it was merely an almost crudely honest statement.
But why?
Why did his chest surge at that bizarre argument?
And Damian...
- ......What should I do?
He asked back, and for the first time, the instructor.
- Damian Pollet, there is one thing you must do. Save as many people as possible. The spellcaster and I will fight.
- Ah, no, why am I...
- Shut up, you spell slave bastard!
- .......
Called Damian by his name.
"-Please run away, hurry!!"
But when the actual situation erupted, his lips were nearly stiff.
Even so.
'Sheesh, he called me by my name, so what!'
Damian didn't even know why he was moving so desperately.
It was just a belief, different from chivalry, that the instructor had breathed into him.
Somehow heterogeneous, but at the same time a conviction that he should go the right way, that made him move through the fear of death.
And this belief, different from the chivalry Damian felt, was probably an unfamiliar concept to the people of this world.
Forcefully instilled by Ihan.
Neither relying on someone, nor chasing reasons or justifications, simply acting as the heart dictates, so there is no benefit whatsoever.
But the heart pounds more than ever, and one can proudly proclaim one's life...!
Seeing this.
"Ah, come on! Run like your feet are on fire!"
It was called Xiaoyi (俠義).