In an instant, the positions between Ihan and Ninsubur had reversed twice.
At first, Ihan had been looking down from the air.
Now, it was Ninsubur gazing down at him.
But even so—
“For soone looking down arrogantly, you’re in a pretty pathetic state.”
“......”
“Doesn’t your arm hurt?”
“......”
“Hah—.”
“!”
Was it the smirk at the end that got under Ninsubur’s skin?
For the first ti, cracks appeared in his expression as he spoke.
“How insolent. Do you truly think your luck will last forever?”
“If it looked like luck to you, then that just ans your level isn’t high enough to see otherwise.”
“You talk too much. Hardly fitting for a warrior.”
“Oh? If that’s how you see it...”
Boom!
“Hah, so you’re blocking after all?”
“...How disgraceful.”
Even as Ihan suddenly unleashed a five-hit Shattering Strike mid-sentence, Ninsubur blocked all five attacks with ease.
Despite Ihan deliberately provoking him, it was clear that re words wouldn’t shake him.
‘Yeah, he’s on a different level from that parasite.’
It was ti to stop throwing around ssy attacks.
Because—
‘He actually knows how to use that absurd body properly.’
Despite the pain, the Great Demon’s body had withstood Ihan’s endless strikes, recovering rapidly as if nothing had happened.
In fact, Ihan wasn’t even sure whether it was truly a body or just a massive bundle of energy.
One thing was certain, though—it was utterly monstrous.
Even from the aura alone, Ihan could tell that the sheer quantity of energy was beyond anything he could match.
If he had to compare it to sothing, then perhaps only that ancient 400-year-old spellcaster—the so-called Master of the Magic Tower—could rival it.
In other words, the stats were completely broken.
And yet, despite possessing such a cheat-level body, its ntal state had been that of a four-year-old throwing tantrums.
An utterly unbalanced existence.
‘So this is what they call the true completion of Mind, Energy, and Body?’
But now, the imbalance had disappeared.
No, rather—it felt like completion.
It was like watching an amateur who had never driven before recklessly take control of an F1 race car—until finally, a professional driver with the skills to match the machine had taken the wheel.
And if soone who truly knew how to handle that cheat-level divine body was using it properly...
Fwsh!
“Let’s see how long you can keep acting arrogant.”
Kwooooong!
It ant the level of skill being displayed was on an entirely different plane.
Once again, Ihan was sent flying before he could even react.
He had failed to counter yet again, and even as he soared through the air, the sheer absurdity of it all left him speechless.
‘I can’t even see or feel his movents?’
The impact itself wasn’t unbearable, so he wasn’t in pain or panicking.
But that didn’t change the fact that he was shocked.
His eyes—no, his senses—had completely failed to register the attack.
Even though his perception, trained to surpass that of wild beasts, was supposed to be incredibly keen, it couldn’t pick up anything from that speed.
‘It’s not just raw speed. His movents are so controlled, so utterly silent, that reacting is even harder.’
Even martial masters would struggle to achieve such fluidity, like the gentle, seamless flow of water.
It was a perfect fusion of physical prowess and extre technical refinent.
Ihan found himself admiring it, even as he halted his flight and reoriented himself.
Fwsh—!
“━━.”
The mont he turned to face forward—
A fist was already there, closing in on his field of vision.
Kuuuuung!
“......”
“...Well, at least I blocked it.”
Ihan flashed a savage grin.
Ninsubur’s punch had struck him square in the forehead—
But this ti, he didn’t get knocked back.
By bracing his waist, legs, and neck, Ihan absorbed the force of the strike.
A sharp clang echoed, like soone punching a steel wall.
“...I acknowledge it. You’re incredibly durable.”
The ancient warlord, once revered as a god of war, admitted it.
Ihan’s body was absurdly tough.
He hadn’t expected his opponent to withstand that punch.
And the fact that Ihan had adapted to his strikes within just two exchanges was... slightly impressive.
But.
“So what?”
Fwoosh!
Ninsubur leaped into the air.
Fast, precise—so seamless that even responding felt impossible.
Papapapap!
“!?”
“How many tis can you endure this?”
Ihan’s eyes twisted sharply.
Two, maybe three tis—sure.
But right now—
“W-Wait, ten hits?”
...How many tis had he been struck?
“It was twenty, you fool.”
Kwoooong!
A devastating kick, reminiscent of a cal’s crushing leg strength, slamd into Ihan’s abdon.
A strike so sharp it could’ve skewered straight through his stomach.
“......Hm?”
But what Ninsubur hadn’t accounted for—
“Hah. Finally landed one, huh?”
Was that his opponent was a lunatic who not only withstood attacks that should’ve pierced through steel—
But used them as an opportunity instead.
Clench!
His abs—his entire core—caught Ninsubur’s leg and wouldn’t let go.
Like a crocodile sinking its teeth into prey—
Krrrunch—!
He twisted it.
***
Even calling it fast would be an understatent—his movents ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) seed to completely ignore air resistance itself.
‘It’s not like I suddenly turned into a slug...!’
Ihan couldn’t track his movents with his eyes at all.
For all he knew, to his opponent, his own movents probably looked even slower than a slug.
If Ihan was moving at double speed, then this bastard was moving at ten tis that.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
The gap was staggering.
‘I can’t replicate that.’
Ihan had never thought of himself as slow in movent or reaction speed.
But catching up to that? Impossible.
‘It’s not just about being fast. He’s honed that technique for hundreds—no, thousands—of years.’
A re human, whose lifespan barely reached a hundred years, could never attain such skill.
‘Hah, this bastard’s insane.’
Just from the sheer mastery of technique alone, he could confidently claim himself to be one of the greatest Mystics.
Even though Ihan saw him as nothing more than a despicable ghost, he couldn’t help but be impressed.
Trying to match his movents head-on would be the height of stupidity.
If he attempted to chase that ridiculous speed, he’d just end up as a helpless punching bag.
So—
‘I really shouldn’t make a habit of this...’
Instead of trying to react, Ihan chose a strategy that suited him best.
It was an utterly brutish yet undeniably effective strategy.
Simply put—
Drip...
‘Good. My bones and organs are intact...’
Flesh for bone. A strategy of sacrificing flesh to take an opponent’s bones.
He didn’t particularly like using this strategy, but he couldn’t just sit there and keep taking hits either.
And since his counterattack had successfully snapped one of his opponent’s legs—
Even though his own abs had been torn open and were now bleeding, he could still smile.
“...Tch.”
It hurt like hell, though.
Ihan poured half a healing potion over his abdon and drank the other half.
That made it the third potion today.
He had long surpassed the recomnded daily limit.
If not for the Demon King’s Heart he had devoured, he would’ve already suffered severe side effects.
He couldn’t help but let out a bitter chuckle.
Because—
Crunch!
“...You’re not bad. I acknowledge it. Your skills, experience, and talent are leagues below mine, but you compensate for it with sheer willpower and tenacity. My Lord was right to call you a hero.”
Unlike Ihan, who needed potions, his opponent was regenerating naturally—
As if his broken leg had never been shattered in the first place, Ninsubur was already recovering.
For the first ti, he spoke at length—nodding as if acknowledging Ihan’s worth.
“Yeah, yeah. What a load of bullshit.”
“Your strength and durability exceed mine. Your audacity is comndable. However—”
Fwsh, fwoosh!
“—That’s all you have.”
“......”
Ninsubur moved again.
And just like before, he unleashed a barrage of attacks in a fraction of a second—
Kwakakakakak!!
Only this ti, the force behind them was even sharper, even heavier.
Boom!!!
Ihan braced himself, raising his guard.
Kuuuuuuung—!
He didn’t use Diamond Body or Unbreakable Will. If he wasted energy recklessly, he’d collapse imdiately.
But even withstanding attacks had a limit—
Slash!
He was starting to get injured.
One or two wounds weren’t a big deal.
But if they kept piling up, he’d soon be drenched in blood.
Yet there was still no way to counter or block the onslaught.
He wanted to use the sa strategy as before—
‘...He’s guarding against it now.’
Just from his eyes, Ihan could tell.
If he tried the sa trick again, it would be turned against him.
‘Damn. Tis like these make wish I had talent.’
Even as blood splattered around him, Ihan found himself thinking about the top five geniuses he knew.
Roen, Derrick, Iliad, and...
‘If those guys were in my place, they’d handle this easily, wouldn’t they?’
That Northern brute.
If it were him, he would’ve struggled at first but eventually countered Ninsubur’s movents with his natural instincts and skill.
That bastard spearman with the nasty glare—
Wouldn’t he have countered with his special eyes or so technique of his own?
As much as he hated to admit it—
The true geniuses were people like that.
While others needed ten or even a hundred years of effort to reach a goal, those monsters could do it in a single day.
For them, what seed impossible to normal people was as natural as breathing.
It was truly...
‘—But what’s the point in envying sothing I don’t have?’
Hmph!
That was just a useless, pathetic kind of jealousy.
He had already wasted his past life resenting geniuses.
And in the end, he realized—
Comparing himself to others would only lead to bitterness and ugliness.
So what he had to do now—
Wasn’t to envy the talent of others.
Or curse the unfairness of reality.
‘What I need to do—what Ihan can do—’
Was to focus on his own strengths.
To maximize what he excelled at.
Wuuuuung!
‘What are my strengths?’
Exceptional foundational abilities.
A body tough enough to take a beating and keep going.
And finally—
‘A bit of creativity.’
Why else had he spent so much ti obsessively perfecting his basics?
Because even just mastering the fundantals could turn into a massive advantage.
And now, thanks to everything he had been through in Wales, his base stats had skyrocketed.
Which ant—
He could do it.
He already had the idea.
He had the body to make it happen.
So—
[[Viiiiiiiiing!!]]
There was no reason for him to lose.
Slash! Slice!
“!?”
For the first ti—
Ninsubur’s attack was stopped.
No, rather—
“What do you think? It’s kinda like a weaker version of Iron Body Aura, but not too bad, huh?”
“...Cough....”
It had been countered.
Drip...
For the first ti, Ninsubur—once called the God of War, the champion of an ancient deity—
Kneeled in pain.
Shhhhkk!
Both his arms had been torn apart, his insides shaken as if they were being liquefied.
“W-What the hell did you...?”
But more than the pain—more than the wounds—
The most shocking thing was that he had no idea what had just happened.
A sudden surge of confusion.
Even Inanna, who had blessed him with divine talent, had never left him feeling this lost.
Then—
[[Viiiiiiiiing!]]
A sound rang out.
“...A bee’s wings?”
He heard a buzzing noise.
Coming from Ihan’s body.
“Wait... you bastard—?!”
“What?”
“...You’re fucking insane.”
Ninsubur finally realized what Ihan had done.
That lunatic had—
“You’re making your own body vibrate...?! You’re creating resonance in your flesh?! Are you suicidal?!”
Why did warriors only apply sword resonance to their weapons?
Because if applied to their bodies, it could tear them apart from the inside.
That was why resonance had been considered the ultimate technique since ancient tis.
Because it held that much power.
Yet this bastard—
Had done it to his own body.
His skin should be shredding apart.
His organs should be lting from the heat.
Yet—
“...Nah. I’m fine.”
[[Viiiiiing.]]
“......?”
Not only was he perfectly fine—
He was still vibrating.
Smoothly. Effortlessly.
“????”
Ninsubur felt his entire worldview shatter.
That should not be possible.
And yet,
“What do you an resonance? That’s such an outdated term.”
Ihan took a step forward with ease, speaking calmly.
“This technique isn’t so old-school trick.”
Smirk.
“Call it—Bulletproof Qi Technique.”
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