Conquering the Academy with Just a Sashimi Knife (Novel) - Chapter 128 - The King of the Dead (7)
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Chapter 128 – The King of the Dead (7)
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Translated by Jinmu
Read only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Chapter 128 – The King of the Dead (7)
The Undead Dungeon was originally a mausoleum. A place erected to honor the rest of fallen heroes—the Catacomb.
However, not even stone could withstand the passage of time; eventually, everything eroded and turned to dust. Thus, its history also gradually faded from the memory of men.
…Hundreds more years passed.
In the Catacomb, which once housed the remained of war heroes, malevolent energy began to seep in.
A magical beast that stole the bodies of heroes and turned them into its servants. A magical beast that stripped them of their would and trampled them mercilessly.
That was Draugr.
But not even such desecration could so easily crush the spirit of its era.
Even with their bodies in rags, the heroes resisted, burning in spirit until the very end.
That monument at the dungeon entrance was their legacy.
A hundred souls sacrificed themselves to carve a single character into the stone. For their essence to manifest even the slightest physical force, an immense price had to be paid.
Even so, they persisted. They etched the words with their final yearning. They left behind the writing of men.
Waiting.
Waiting for the day when a human would come to free them.
And then, one day.
A man who inherited the legacy of the Sword Saint struck the gates of the mausoleum.
That happened ten years ago.
***
“Graaaaahhh!”
Inhuman wails erupted from all directions.
The undead clustered together rapidly, forming a dense swarm. In a matter of seconds, half of the great chamber was overrun by them.
“Tch.”
Kang Geom-ma clicked his tongue.
From the beginning, the situation was unfavorable. He hadn’t expected it to be easy.
But the magnitude of the undead horde exceeded any expectation.
He knew that an S-rank dungeon would be a hellish challenge, but this bordered on the absurd.
A fleeting thought. In that brief instant, the undead, packed together like a plague of rats, lunged at him.
Their rotting limbs creaked as they unleashed a rain of attacks. Dozens of battered weapons aimed at Kang Geom-ma from every angle.
There was no escape.
Even in the blind spots, broken blades sliced through the air, ready to tear him apart.
The shadow of the undead loomed over his face, attempting to devour the light of life.
In response, Kang Geom-ma didn’t grab the hilt of his sword but instead the cord tying Murasame.
Immediately, he loosened the blade and swung it like a whip.
Whirrrrr—!
The blade bent at lightning speed.
“Kegh—! Ghhkk—!”
“Grhhk—! Raghhh—!”
“Graaaaah—!”
The blade pierced through rotting flesh, gutting the organs that still dangled inside their bodies.
The sound of severed limbs echoed through the cavern. The path carved by the sword was like a venomous snake devouring the undead.
“Graaaaahhhh!”
The sound of flesh being torn apart mixed with agonized screams.
Kang Geom-ma gripped his second sword, Permafrost, and unsheathed it in a single motion.
The undead that approached were reduced to pieces beneath the cold steel blade.
Close-quarters and long-range combat.
Absolute mastery of dual-wielding swordsmanship.
Shail barely shifted her eyes, watching the massacre unfold around her.
And at the center of it all—
The black-haired man stood with an overwhelming presence.
“…That was…”
Seeing it with her own eyes, her body instinctively tensed.
He was not simply a warrior.
It was as if the devil himself had descended.
She recalled what had just happened.
With a single slash of Kang Geom-ma’s sword, he cleaved through a multitude of undead, parting them as if they were the Red Sea.
At that moment, the battle had been too frantic to fully process…
Shail glanced around.
Abel was fighting fiercely, swinging her sword with surgical precision.
The clash of steel rang out with a sharp clang.
Clang!
Sparks flew as Abel simultaneously severed an enemy’s neck and legs.
Her attacks and evasive maneuvers intertwined with perfect balance, as if she were dancing.
‘The lady had grown tremendously.’
But then… she looked back at Kang Geom-ma.
His sword cut with monstrous ferocity. His movements were violent.
The ground beneath his feet was soaked in blood and shredded flesh.
A single man was crushing an entire army.
‘That was no longer just natural talent.’
It wasn’t a matter of skill.
It was a pure manifestation of violence.
Kang Geom-ma was the living embodiment of cutting and killing.
Slaaaash—!
Dozens of undead perished instantly.
The sword was drenched in blood.
With a cold stare, Kang Geom-ma flicked the blade.
Chunks of thick flesh fell to the ground with a wet squelch.
Squish. Squish.
Then, he leaped again.
This time, he was the one charging directly into the undead swarm.
Swish.
He alternated fluidly between reverse and standard gripped.
His sword spun around his palm like the blades of a windmill.
The enemy attacks continued, but Kang Geom-ma advanced without stopping.
Each slash of his sword annihilated dozens of opponents.
As if he were grinding an ant horde into dust.
The air filled with a crimson mist.
The ground became a sea of corpses.
The screams of the dying did not cease.
Kang Geom-ma took a great step forward.
Slash.
He headed toward the top of the temple, advancing another step.
Slash.
Treading over the lifeless bodies around him.
Slash.
From the tip of Permafrost, thick dropped of blood dripped.
Drip. Drip.
***
“Ah, damn it.”
The curse slipped from his lips unconsciously.
No matter how much he cut, the enemies kept appearing.
Only a few meters separated him from Draugr. A single leap would be enough to reach him, but time was running out.
‘I had about 30 seconds left.’
The only luck he had was that, just before the battle, the duration of [the Blessing of Painlessness] was readjusted.
‘If not for that, I would have already hit my limit.’
Moreover, he had become more skilled at activating it, allowing him to manage time better.
Even though the fight against the undead horde had lasted more than a minute, he could still keep going without problems.
The condition to activate the Blessing of the Sword God was drawing his sword.
As long as the blade remained sheathed, the blessing didn’t activate.
That’s where the idea of “tactical sheathing” came from.
Even in the midst of battle, there were always brief pauses in the attacks.
No matter how fleeting they were, in those moments, he could sheath his sword and then draw it again in his next offensive.
By following this pattern, he could extend the 60 seconds of the blessing a bit longer.
It was similar to the principle of inertia.
Maybe he’d only gain an additional 20 seconds, but for him, any advantage was valuable.
The problem was that there were too many enemies.
The undead completely covered the path to Draugr.
The scene unfolding before him looked like something straight out of a zombie movie.
‘Breaking through all of them was impossible.’
No matter how many he cut down, unless he eliminated the head of the army, the situation wouldn’t change.
He lifted his gaze.
There, high above, Draugr stood firm like a fortress.
Holding his sword’s hilt with both hands, he watched him intently.
His golden eyes flickered weakly in the center of his hollow sockets.
From his throne, his unshakable posture radiated the presence of a true king.
“…Damn, he looked strong as hell.”
It was a sudden impression.
Until now, he had considered him just a magical beast relying on numerical advantage.
But the pressure emanating from his body and the eerie atmosphere surrounding him were something entirely different.
His lips dried, and he instinctively licked them.
After all, his host was Abel’s father.
A descendant of the Sword Saint.
And now, with Draugr dominating his body, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to consider him an enemy nearly equivalent to a corps commander.
…But his greatest concern wasn’t Draugr’s strength.
[The Blessing of the Sword God] was a lethal weapon.
If he got close enough, nothing would stop him from cutting Draugr in two.
‘I need to close the distance as fast as possible.’
Only then could he decapitate or pierce him with his sword.
It would be ridiculous if everything failed simply because he couldn’t reach him.
‘I could’t keep wasting the Blessing of Painlessness.’
If he lost more time, failure would be inevitable.
He had to rethink his strategy.
Above all, the most important thing was getting to Draugr.
‘Isn’t there some ability in the blessing that lets me fly? In wuxia novels, supreme masters walk on air…’
At that moment, an idea flashed through his mind.
‘Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee…’
If there were debris floating in the air, why not use them as stepping stones?
Maybe he couldn’t fly, but he could jump from fragment to fragment like a rabbit.
He lowered his gaze.
The ground was covered by a mountain of undead remained.
Flesh and bones piled in all directions.
“…….”
Of course, this wasn’t a zero-gravity environment.
The remained wouldn’t stay suspended indefinitely.
Moreover, if he missed a single step, he’d fall into the void, and everything would have been for nothing.
If he were in his right mind, he would never have considered such madness.
But with the Blessing of the Sword God, his reflexes and coordination were at a superhuman level.
And his field of vision had also expanded immensely.
It wasn’t a completely suicidal attempt.
“Either way, I’ll die if I stay here.”
There was no reason to hesitate.
He dragged his foot in a circular sweep.
The scattered bones and flesh lifted to knee height.
Then, with a swift kick, he sent them flying through the air.
Thanks to his training, the strength in his legs was enough to launch them high.
Immediately, he unsheathed his sword.
He activated the Blessing of the Sword God and struck the ground with force.
―――――――――――――――――BOOM!!
Kang Geom-ma leaped, landing on the first floating fragment.
His eyes and brain moved at full speed.
His subconscious mapped out the best route in an instant.
Without hesitation, he propelled himself forward.
Bang!
Like an arrow shot from a bow, he surged ahead with an explosion of speed.
Each time he stepped on a piece of debris, his body felt lighter.
His time in the air lengthened.
His acceleration increased.
His agility and reaction speed were beyond human.
He ran through the sky.
As if gravity didn’t exist.
Like a swallow gliding in the breeze.
Swish! Swish!
In the blink of an eye, he reached the final foothold.
And at last, he saw him.
Draugr watched from above.
“…Hah.”
Draugr’s eyes trembled.
A faint glimmer crossed his dull gaze.
For an instant, something inside him awakened.
A remnant of consciousness.
The fragment of a man named Orion.
Ten years ago, Orion had learned the truth about the Undead Dungeon.
The mausoleum of heroes, the Catacomb, had been corrupted by magical beasts.
To verify it, he traveled there with his wife.
At the entrance, they found a tombstone.
The text, written in runes, contained a prophecy.
“The dead yearn for rest. They wish for a human to come and break this curse. A saint of the sword who would sever the shackles of immortality.”
At that moment, Orion had realized the truth.
‘The saint of the sword.’
‘That must be me.’
That was what he had believed.
He had always been a genius.
Humble, yet with a deep longing to surpass his father, the legendary Sword Emperor.
And more than anything, he had wanted to be a father his daughter could be proud of.
So they entered the lair of the dead.
And that was when tragedy struck.
He never knew when or where his wife died.
He only remembered being possessed by the magical beast.
His consciousness faded quickly.
But for ten years, there was one memory that never disappeared.
His daughter.
He didn’t remember her name, but he knew he loved her.
Orion reflexively lowered his gaze. A girl was wielding a sword.
Unconsciously, he realized that girl was his daughter.
‘You’ve grown so much.’
Who would have thought that the tiny girl he had left behind had grown up so fast?
Orion looked ahead. A boy, dark as the abyss, was approaching. As he drew closer, a clear sound of a sword echoed in his ears.
Though his soul had been devoured by the magical beast, his essence remained that of a knight. A lone ember smoldered within the cold.
That single spark of awareness moved his hand.
Orion raised his sword. It had been ten years since he had last held it properly.
Shiing.
The faint sound of a blade rang out. It was a rare sword.
Finally, the formidable boy took his last step. A sacred white light gleamed in the air.
Buzz! Buzz!
An aura bloomed like wings along Kang Geom-ma’s entire arm. It was so vast that it filled his entire field of vision.
Draugr looked at the powerful swordsman and murmured.
“The one who grants rest to the dead.”
The King of the Dead, Draugr, was nothing more than a puppet—no different from any other undead.
It was a throne that was nothing but empty. A true monarch was one who gave the final word.
“He was the king of the dead.”
Draugr pointed the tip of his sword at the mighty swordsman.
And he prayed for the fallen.
“Might he grant us his mercy.”