The Genius Son-in-law of the Swordmaster Household—Blessed by Authority

Chapter 127 : Valley of Souls (3)

Valley of Souls (3)

The lich Moltazar's death cannon, filled with 500 years' worth of essence.

The power of the Death Cannon was truly overwhelming.

*Booooom—!*

"Ow...!"

Even Ian, who had reached the very peak of late-stage Grandmaster, felt as if his hands would split open trying to block it—the kind of power that would twist every joint in his body.

If not for Vladiark, even Ian would not have been able to avoid a serious injury if he had met the Death Cannon head-on.

However—

"Kh...!"

As long as Vladiark was in his hands, crude techniques that relied solely on sheer magic power were not that difficult to deal with.

*Crackackackack!*

As long as he held firm against the initial heavy impact when they collided—

"Huup—!!"

*Shwaaaaa!!*

After that, Vladiark would instantly devour the incoming magic power, making it easier and easier to endure.

"Hoo..."

*Ka-kak! Kak! Kk-grrk...!*

At first, the Death Cannon spun furiously, looking as if it might overwhelm Vladiark, but soon it started to lose steam and wavered weakly as its power dwindled.

*Grrrrr...!*

On the other hand, Vladiark rapidly absorbed the malevolent energy packed within the Death Cannon, swelling as if it would explode at any moment.

"... W-what!"

At the sight, Moltazar's blue pupils shook violently.

'I-It's being devoured!? The very essence of the malice I've accumulated my whole life!'

Moltazar, having cast off his human flesh and reached the 8th Circle—the realm only attainable by abandoning one's mortal body—could perceive the flow of magic power with utmost clarity.

His senses were telling him unmistakably.

That grotesque tentacled greatsword was voraciously devouring the lifetime's worth of malevolent essence Moltazar had painstakingly gathered.

'W-what...! What nonsense is this!?'

The quantity of malevolent energy contained in the Death Cannon exceeded the capacity of Moltazar's heart, his Life Vessel, by nearly three times—a staggering amount.

That's why he had to store it underground in this Necropolis, divided among several magic stones.

'And yet, how is he...! How can he consume it so easily!?'

He had never seen magic power being absorbed at such a rate, but what was even more shocking was how that massive force was swallowed with ease, showing not a single sign of strain.

Normally, swallowing such an immense amount of magic recklessly should result in an immediate explosion from being unable to handle it.

There could only be a handful in the whole world who could withstand the Death Cannon so casually.

At the very least, one would need to have surpassed the threshold of a demi-god to pull off such monstrous feats.

'W-what in the world...! What am I even facing? In this Valley of Souls! What in the world has come here!?'

*Grrrrr...!*

By then, the Death Cannon had nearly spent all its strength.

In contrast, Vladiark's aura became grander and more overwhelming than ever.

*Shiik.*

Ian relaxed his stiff shoulders slowly, the corners of his lips curling upward.

'I was running low on aura after using Sword Spirit Release with Vladiark twice today...'

Depending on how much power he unleashed, Sword Spirit Release with Vladiark would always cost at least enough aura for a mid-level Grandmaster.

Of course, while devouring Necropolis, he had recovered some aura, but even all the magic power within a Necropolis didn't amount to a full mid-level Grandmaster's worth—so after using Sword Spirit Release with Vladiark twice in a row, Ian had been feeling a bit drained.

But now—

'Thanks to that lich, I'm fully recharged.'

The two powerful undead who greeted Ian at first were just appetizers.

Then, the monstrous Death Cannon that had just come flying—was the main course.

Thanks to that, Vladiark was now overflowing with more than enough magic power to perform Sword Spirit Release at least five more times.

'Then, I should make sure to have dessert, too.'

The dessert: this Necropolis.

And, the lich atop the spire, staring at Ian with eyes full of panic.

*Fwoosh!!*

Ian swung Vladiark as if batting a ball, sending the green crystal of the Death Cannon flying.

*BOOM!*

The green crystal erupted with a sonic boom—

*CRAAASH!!*

*KA-CRASH!*

—and collided with one of the Necropolis' spires, shattering it in a spectacular explosion.

"Ah—Aaahh!"

"Hiiiii!!"

As quake-like shockwaves shook the ground, Moltazar's disciples staggered, struggling to catch their breath.

"............."

Moltazar himself said nothing, but he, too, was frozen in disbelief.

Ian didn't miss that perfect instant when his prey was paralyzed for the taking.

*Crack!*

Ian hefted Vladiark upside down and drove it, with force, straight into the ground.

"Sword Spirit Release."

Then he pronounced the sentence.

"Vladiark."

*GWAAAAAHHH!!!*

As if it had been waiting all along—

The judgment's blade, a tentacle, rose up in the middle of the Necropolis like a giant World Tree.

"Hah, hahahaha...!!"

Moltazar, staring up at the endless black tentacles soaring above his head, let out a hollow laugh.

His disciples had already fled, abandoning their master in terror.

Yet Moltazar did not try to stop or rebuke them.

He could feel it: as that immense tentacle rose, all of the Necropolis' mana circuits were destroyed.

No doubt the warp gate was wrecked as well. No one would escape now.

It was all over.

'My 500 years of life... So this was my fate...!'

To be devoured, so abruptly and helplessly—

Was that what all those centuries of painstakingly collecting magic power, through every imaginable hardship, had been for...!

"Hahahaha!"

Moltazar laughed at himself.

'I look exactly... like a fruit? Or livestock.'

Five hundred years of desperate effort spent fattening himself up.

If he was destined all along to be eaten like this, wasn't it as if he had been fattening himself all this time just to be devoured by this monster?

The very definition of a perfectly ripened fruit, or well-grown livestock.

That was exactly what he was now.

"Hahahahahaha!!"

Moltazar laughed madly beneath the shadow of the tentacle.

He'd dreamed of transcendence, had spent centuries increasing his own power—

And now, it was all destined to become a tribute to a monster.

How laughable! Moltazar. Truly laughable.

*CRAAAAASH!!!*

And then—

The enormous tentacle toppled, smashing Moltazar's spire to pieces.

*Rrrrrrrrumble...*

A new ravine was added to the Valley of Souls in that moment.

* * *

Four days passed.

In that time, Ian destroyed a total of seven Necropolises.

Three on the first day.

Two on the next.

And then, one each day after that.

'If I could, I'd prefer to wipe them all out before today is over.'

Wiping out the necromancers of the Valley of Souls was only a secondary objective.

The main priority for now was to meet the Sword Fiend and obtain the Ghost Sword, Quiennio.

And to do that, he needed rumors about a mysterious monstrous swordsman rampaging through the Valley of Souls to be spread everywhere.

'So for now, I have no choice but to let some live.'

After four days of systematically destroying Necropolises one by one and deliberately letting some fleeing necromancers escape—

Now, Ian had become the greatest calamity and hottest topic in all of the Valley of Souls.

Now, in every Necropolis square and every tavern, stories of Ian were ceaseless.

A mysterious swordsman wielding a tentacle monster was rampaging across the Valley of Souls, destroying every Necropolis he encountered.

By now, these rumors surely would have reached the Sword Fiend's ears.

'The Sword Fiend can't remain wandering the wilds of the Valley of Souls forever.'

To eat a proper meal or sleep in comfort in the Valley of Souls, sooner or later, one had to visit a Necropolis at least once. If he did, he would surely hear gossip about Ian.

Currently, in every marketplace of every Necropolis, there was talk only of the mysterious monstrous swordsman.

'I've even been moving in a way that's easy to predict, but...'

Ian started from the outer rim of the Valley of Souls, moving inward in an ever-tightening spiral.

By the third day, the necromancers seem to have caught on to the pattern, and the number of sorcerers present in each Necropolis had dropped sharply.

If the Sword Fiend had heard of Ian, then surely he would also not have much trouble finding Ian's whereabouts.

'So, if he wants to find me, he can any time.'

Yet up until the fifth day, the Sword Fiend showed no sign of appearing.

After destroying another Necropolis, on the sixth day—

'I might end up killing every necromancer before meeting the Sword Fiend at this rate...'

Well, thinking about it, even meeting the Sword Fiend later would be fine, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just finish off all the necromancers now.

Just as Ian was entertaining that thought—

"...!"

While passing through one of the Valley of Souls's swampy areas—

He felt it—faint, but unmistakable—a gaze.

Someone was watching Ian, and judging by the brief hint of killing intent, it was not a necromancer.

'Sword Fiend? It's the Sword Fiend...!'

Most likely.

The owner of that gaze, with very high probability, was the Sword Fiend.

It was hard to believe there could be anyone except the Sword Fiend who possessed such sharp sword intent in the Valley of Souls.

'He's watching me. Even now.'

Drawn by rumors about the mysterious monstrous swordsman, he must have come to observe Ian from afar.

'I'd like him to come closer. But he won't approach. Feels like he's keeping his distance, judging by how faint the gaze is.'

It made sense that he wouldn't want to get closer.

A monster who had, in mere days, slaughtered tens of thousands of necromancers and destroyed eight Necropolises.

Ian was now a tremendously dangerous and powerful unknown entity.

The Sword Fiend was clearly sensing it, too—

That Ian might well be stronger than himself.

Although the Sword Fiend was among the world's strongest, even he could never have destroyed eight Necropolises in a week.

So it was natural he would watch from a position where he could escape at any time, rather than approach rashly.

'But—'

Now the Sword Fiend could no longer escape.

Having sensed his sword aura, Ian had the Sword Fiend right in the palm of his hand.

In his previous life, Ian had tracked and hunted countless targets; he was extremely skilled at pinning down someone's position through his senses.

He now had a good idea of where the Sword Fiend was, and at this distance, he could close in and seize him in a single leap.

'Hmm. What's the best move?'

Ian strolled slowly through the swamp, thinking.

He could rush over now and grab the Sword Fiend, but doing so might make the Sword Fiend draw his sword in surprise.

No—he definitely would.

Right now, in the Valley of Souls, Ian was a mysterious monster.

If such a creature suddenly rushed at him, the Sword Fiend would, understandably, draw his sword in shock.

'If the Sword Fiend reacts like that, even I might have trouble subduing him easily.'

Of course, considering Ian's current level, he would never lose, but there was a high possibility of seriously injuring the Sword Fiend.

He might even accidentally kill him in the process of subduing him.

'So it's too dangerous to just charge at the Sword Fiend.'

The Sword Fiend is dangerous.

But—

'He doesn't seem likely to approach first, either.'

The Sword Fiend was bold, but not a fool.

He sometimes risked his life to obtain a Demonic Sword or curse, but if he saw no chance of winning, he wouldn't make a reckless move.

"Hmmm."

Ian stroked his chin, thinking for a moment.

Then he had a good idea.

"Ah."

He'd put on a show.

A show that would leave the Sword Fiend no choice but to approach him first.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】