The Reincarnated Martial God Brings Down the Heavens

Chapter 134 – The Half-Elf With Eyes of Red (2)

Burning the forest.

It wasn’t easy, even for me. I knew all too well what the forest meant to the elves.

However,

‘It’s wrong to harm others just because you’ve been hurt.’

The elves had set fire to the dwarves’ warehouses, which was their everything. Such actions were something humans, full of malicious intent, would do.

And,

‘At the center of it all is the half-elf with eyes of red.’

Creak! Creeeeak!

Still locked in combat, I stared intently at my opponent. There were a lot more half-elves across the continent than you might expect.

It was the legacy of humans recklessly enslaving elves in the past, leading to the birth of many mixed-bloods.

However, as far as I knew, there was only one half-elf with such striking silver hair and those ominous red eyes.

“Erina, the Swordsman of Slaughter. You were still alive?”

“……!”

In that instant, her crimson eyes glinted with a murderous light.

Bingo.

Swish!

I rolled swiftly to the ground. A crimson slash streaked past where my head had been just moments ago.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

More strikes followed in rapid succession.

It was hard to believe that such a massive blade could be so quick.

The sword’s edge was razor-sharp, its aura unbearably heavy. A perfect trinity of speed, precision, and destructive power.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Gritting my teeth, I blocked the incoming strikes. I parried every blow with a dwarven sword.

And so, we clashed once more.

“You…… Blocked even that?”

Erina’s pupils widened in shock.

She had unleashed a strike meant to kill, yet here I was, a mere child, neither dodging nor faltering, but deflecting every blow.

‘Honestly, I feel like I’m about to die, you pointy-eared bastard.’

With every strike she unleashed, a deafening ‘Boom!’ resounded in my ears.

My young, fragile body couldn’t fully withstand the shockwaves. Even so, I had one thing to rely on.

‘I’m not alone anymore.’

The moment that thought crossed my mind.

“You brat!”

Shwip!

As the blades flew toward her from both sides, Erina leapt gracefully into the air.

In mere moments, Marquis Foltaine and Duke Serin were standing reliably by my side.

Even Bolt, who had been frozen in place behind me, let out a relieved sigh.

Hummm!

Suddenly, a deep, resonant hum filled the air. The most oppressive bloodlust I had ever felt radiated outward.

‘Danger!’

An alarm blared in my mind.

Tremendous mana swirled around Erina’s massive greatsword.

The red-eyed elf took a steadying breath.

Slaaash!

Sensing the imminent threat, the three of us simultaneously struck toward Erina. The best measure of defense is prevention!

Clang!

“……!”

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But that monster fended us all off with a single swing.

Flash!

Then, with just one slender arm, she hoisted her enormous greatsword high into the air.

The wild mana condensed and condensed on that sword, and—

Boom!

She brought it crashing down onto the ground.

-Die, all of you.

It was as if the voice of a madman echoed in my ears.

Craaaack!

The earth quaked violently, fissures forming everywhere. Fragments of shattered ground erupted skyward, each piece ensnared by the murderous aura.

Fwooosh!

One by one, the fragments were engulfed in crimson flames.

Meteor Shower.

The signature move of the ‘Swordsman of Slaughter’.

Crash!

“……!”

As if that weren’t enough, Erina’s other hand, now free of her sword, stretched toward the knights. The air around us twisted violently, shimmering like a heatwave.

“Shockwave.”

A 6th-circle spell, so powerful that among humans, only the Tower Master could wield it.

Boom!

A monstrous shockwave surged toward the Duke’s knights.

In that split second, the three of us exchanged glances. We had never fought together before.

Yet, in this moment, an unspoken understanding passed between us—a resonance of shared resolve.

We were already steadfast pillars of support for one another, sharing not just thoughts but our very hearts.

-I’ll handle those damn boulders.

-Not a bad idea. Being owed a debt by Duke Herman might come in handy.

Schwip!

With that silent exchange of glances, Marquis Foltaine leapt high into the sky, while Duke Serin pushed off the ground in the opposite direction, charging toward the knights.

Crack! Crack-crack-crack!

The curved sabre struck the falling stones relentlessly, smashing them to rubble.

Slash! Shrrriiiiip!

The rapier in Duke Serin’s hand moved like threads being woven at incredible speed, its piercing sound akin to fabric being shredded.

The weapon tore through the incoming shockwave with surgical precision.

However,

Even in the midst of all this chaos, Erina was on the move again. This was the true terror of the Swordsman of Slaughter.

When a mage simultaneously casts two spells, it’s called double casting. Managing three is called triple casting.

Yet that bastard wasn’t merely juggling advanced magic and high-level swordsmanship, she was adding physical attacks to the mix.

And her target was crystal clear.

Swish!

“……!”

Duke Serin froze mid-action, his body stiffening as a lethal intent prickled against his back.

‘Damn it……!’

He quickly turned around, just in time to see—

Claaang!

Sparks exploded in every direction as my sword clashed with the one aimed at his back. He nodded his thanks with his eyes.

“Who the hell is that elf!?”

Marquis Foltaine, who had barely finished demolishing the meteor shower, shouted in exasperation, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“A monstrous wielder of a massive sword who became the first to achieve the class of ‘magic swordsman’. Surely, there’s only one name that comes to mind?”

“……!”

Both the Marquis and Duke Serin’s eyes widened in realization. Magic swordsman—the domain forbidden to humans.

The most basic teachings of swordsmanship and magic dictate that,

‘The mana circle in the heart and the mana hole in the abdomen cannot coexist within the same body.’

The conflicting nature of the two manas ensures constant turmoil. However, there are always exceptions.

Just one.

There had been just one exception in the past.

“Are you talking about the Swordsman of Slaughter!? That’s absurd! That was over fifty years ago……!”

Marquis Foltaine’s voice trailed off as he visibly trembled, the truth dawning on him.

If this being wasn’t human but a half-elf with a longer lifespan……?

“……This is crazy.”

He cursed under his breath.

Erina had been one of the ‘Twenty Sovereigns’ who once ruled the world, before the age of the Three Heavens, Five Stars, and Twelve Transcendents.

However—

‘Her cruelty turned the entire continent against her. She was hunted down and ultimately disappeared.’

That same cruelty had earned her the title of ‘Slaughter’.

This lunatic had wiped out an entire city of thousands—men, women, children—leaving no survivors.

Booom!

Erina swung her blade, forcing distance between us.

Then—

Zip!

A nearly imperceptible sound. Her massive sword, moving with the grace of a dagger, shot toward me.

Its trajectory splintered into countless feints, veiling my vision with blindingly intricate patterns.

A swordsmanship that was much more secretive and flashier than anything I’d encountered until now.

Swish.

Against that contradictory spectacle, my sword began a dance of its own.

Hummm!

I summoned mana in a rush, the sharp tang of blood filling my throat.

‘This time, you’ll have to block me.’

Clink-clink-clink!

Duke Serin, quick to sense the shift, tried to prevent the shifting in Erina’s sword. Yet, even as he disrupted many, stray threads of murderous intent streaked toward me.

“Damn it!”

As Duke Serin cursed.

Whoosh!

My sword moved.

A thousand cherry blossoms scattered in all directions.

They embroidered the air.

‘Who could predict the flow of nature and deflect every petal in a storm?’

The Third Chapter of the Illusory Dance: Blossom Rain.

Clang! Clang-clang-clang!

Swords clashed in relentless exchange, neither side giving an inch.

Swish! Swish!

Duke Serin wasn’t idle, his rapier darting like a serpent, probing Erina’s blind spots. It was a situation where a single mistake could cost you your life.

But then—

“……!”

Amidst the pandemonium, I caught sight of something through the rainbows refracted by dissipating flames.

Another rainbow—artificial yet familiar.

‘……Ah, you were with me all along.’

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

The one-handed Illusory Dance, a technique I’d hoped to give to that person.

But now, they were performing their own beautiful choreography with a single sword.

‘I’m coming, my lord.’

‘Yes, come.’

Our gazes met, and unspoken resolve passed between us.

Just like in the past. My old comrade, whose next move I could predict just by looking at his expression.

Without a sound, their blade struck.

“……!”

Slash!

The half-elf whipped around, even offering to sacrifice Erina recoiled, strands of her silver hair severed as she narrowly avoided the strike.

“Where do you think you’re going……!?”

Claaang!

A powerful uppercut.

Slash!

Simultaneously, the other arm of my ally, Trevor—his prosthetic arm—rose up.

“……!”

Erina’s smirk faltered for the first time, as her hand failed to register the familiar resistance of flesh.

‘That’s right. It’s a prosthetic.’

Screech!

Free from physical pain, Trevor’s blade didn’t waver. Erina, sensing danger, redirected her swing.

Ca-clang!

Her blade barely managed to deflect Trevor’s, grazing her cheek. Fury painted her face just as I saw it—the singular, clearest path between us.

Slash!

“Ahhhh!”

Finally, a monster-like scream burst from a half-elf.

My most precise and devastating strike of this lifetime had severed her flesh. It was the shortest line I’ve ever drawn in this life.

“Urgh……”

A pained groan followed, her left arm dangling by a thread, white bone exposed through a grievous wound.

“You maimed one of my precious comrades. It’s only fair if you repay in kind.”

“……!”

Trevor offered me a faint smile, wordlessly affirming our coordination honed through countless battles.

Thunk.

By then, Marquis Foltaine and Duke Serin had Erina pinned. One blade pressed against her throat, the other poised at her heart.

“Halt!”

The marquis roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

“……!”

Every fighter froze, turning to face us.

“E-Erina?”

The elves’ faces were painted with disbelief as they gazed at her restrained figure.

“I don’t usually take hostages, but if you insist on continuing…… I’ll start by severing her neck.”

“Keep fighting! Don’t worry about me……!”

Slap!

I silenced her with a sharp slap.

“The defeated have no say.”

“……!”

Trevor stepped forward with a smirk.

“I’ll take care of the prisoner.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“……Pardon?”

“This must be the first time, in that body, that you’ve fought and defeated a monster like this.”

Trevor froze briefly, his eyebrows twitching before his lips curled into a radiant smile.

“I feel alive for the first time in ages.”

At that, I allowed myself a faint grin as well. That’s good enough, then.

* * *