A Disaster-Level Assassin Has Been Freed

Chapter 111: Limit (3)

Could effort ever surpass talent?

Many people, when posed with this question, would answer, “Yes.”

They claimed that talent merely allowed one to climb the mountain faster, but with relentless dedication, anyone could reach the summit just the same.

However, the Black Magician Vivian didn’t share this belief.

“What if a sheer cliff, impossibly steep, blocked the path to the summit?”

“What if the path broke off midway, and when you looked up, the mountain floated like an island in the sky? Could you still say effort would overcome it?”

Indeed.

A cliff dozens of meters wide, or the base of a mountain suspended in the heavens.

That was the limit of ordinary people.

And it was Vivian’s limit as well.

Lingering at the edge of what effort could achieve, she could only gaze helplessly at the backs of geniuses who surpassed her. At times, she denied her own inadequacy, but ultimately, she swallowed her bitter tears and acknowledged it. Whenever she looked at those with talent, an overwhelming sense of envy consumed her.

That was why.

The moment she saw the black-haired young man before her ascend to a higher realm in an instant, Vivian felt her head burn with uncontrollable rage.

“I can’t accept it!”

It was a lie.

Deep within her heart, Vivian already knew. She knew this young man was a true genius. Far from being hindered by her curse, he had used it as a stepping stone to achieve “awakening.” He was the embodiment of true talent.

A being who, to climb a mountain floating in the sky, nonchalantly sprouted wings from his back!

Watching Harang achieve growth akin to evolution, she could only clench her fists tightly. Her ignited emotions soon turned to hostility, causing the energy within her to surge wildly.

Hoo-!

Clatter, clatter-

Crack, crack-!

The darkly surging mana of shadow animated the skeleton soldiers.

Their momentum was reminiscent of a demon who had made a pact with the devil. The sight of over a hundred creatures—some as strong as mid-level Experts, and the most powerful rivaling peak Experts—charging forward was nothing short of hell’s abyss manifesting in the mortal world.

But, of course.

“Hoo.”

Harang remained calm.

No, calm wasn’t quite the right word.

Having just emerged from the Valley of Trials, he was still caught in the exhilarating and fulfilling afterglow of his experience.

He struggled to contain the endless waves of euphoria, which made him appear composed on the surface. But in truth, his inner world was a turbulent storm, caught in the midst of raging waves.

“Might as well let it all out.”

Swish-!

Thud!

Harang spun his sword once in the air, then gripped it again, striking a stance. A ceaseless Crystalline Light poured from his eyes.

He had initially planned to slowly digest his enlightenment, but the idea of embedding it into his body through real combat didn’t seem bad either.

“I’m far stronger than I ever imagined.”

Ulrik’s teachings.

A belief, almost like hypnosis, instilled in him with intense conviction and trust!

It had elevated Harang’s mental state to an unimaginably high realm, and that wasn’t the end of it.

A healthy mind resides in a healthy body.

The reverse was also true.

His rapidly heightened mental fortitude whispered to his physical body: Catch up quickly, move diligently, grow, and keep pace.

This sensation couldn’t be explained in words.

But instinct drove him.

The situation demanded his growth.

Countless shadow creatures, too many to tally.

Boom!

Before they could charge, Harang leaped into the heart of the battlefield. A low murmur escaped his lips.

“Here I go.”

BOOOOM-!

A powerfully swung sword shattered the head of one creature. It was a heavily armed being, clad in a large blade and proper armor, with a presence comparable to a Graduate-level swordsman.

But it couldn’t withstand a single blow. Like a toy broken by a child’s rough play, it was sent flying, crashing into a building and collapsing it, never to rise again.

Boom! Boom!

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

The others fared no better.

Shadow beings of mid- and high-level Expert strength were crushed by the dozens with each strike. They exploded. Bone fragments littered the sky, clouding his vision, but Harang paid no heed. His movements—swift, ferocious, yet precise—radiated a beauty no work of art could capture.

Of course, the skeleton soldiers’ advance was no trifling matter.

Vivian’s creatures knew no fear. They had no dread. If they had been a human army with reason, they would have fled long ago, tails between their legs. But these creatures, as if never wounded, relentlessly charged at Harang. They lunged. Despite the inevitable depletion of stamina that plagues living beings, they surged endlessly, reassembling infinitely, crashing like waves.

But…

“It’s futile!”

Vivian realized, ten minutes into the battle, that their relentless assault was only aiding her opponent.

Harang’s swordsmanship grew increasingly refined, beautiful even to an untrained eye.

His footwork became lighter, appearing effortless even to an ordinary person.

He was growing. Getting stronger with every moment.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she couldn’t deny it. The heat rising from his back, like a mirage, felt like radiant wings sprouting from the body of a genius.

“What do I do? How in the world…?”

It was around that moment.

Harang’s body finally caught up with his mental growth. His consciousness, which had been swinging his sword in a trance, returned, and he began to take stock of the situation.

The skeletons were rising more slowly now.

In the distance, the Black Magician stared at him with an anxious expression.

It seemed the battle was nearly decided. Nodding to himself, Harang thought,

“Now I can finally have a proper conversation.”

Indeed. Despite the intense battle born of some misunderstanding, Harang still wished to speak with Vivian. It was just a hunch, but he was beginning to feel that he and she didn’t need to fight.

Of course, that was merely his own thought. The Black Magician likely didn’t see it that way.

In that case…

“Instead of pointlessly smashing skeleton soldiers, wouldn’t it be better to subdue Ms. Vivian and then talk?”

BOOM!

Even as he thought this, the creatures continued their relentless assault, but Harang felt no sense of danger.

He merely pondered how to subdue his opponent with minimal resistance, how to create a more relaxed atmosphere for their conversation.

But then.

A shocking sight unfolded before Harang’s eyes, one that blew away all his contemplations in an instant.

Swish-!

Crunch!

“…?”

What?

Harang’s figure froze momentarily.

He had no choice.

The Black Magician Vivian, who had been glaring at him with uneasy eyes, suddenly raised her right hand and pierced her own chest.

And it wasn’t just a piercing.

Crack, crack…

Spurt!

Thump, thump!

After brutally breaking her own ribcage, Vivian ripped out her still-beating heart with her own hand.

Cough! Blood gushed from her mouth.

Yet, she was smiling.

With bloodshot eyes, gazing at Harang like a sinister crescent moon, the Black Magician chuckled and spoke.

“Well then, goodbye.”

That was her final word.

BOOOOOOOM─────!

Immediately after, a tremendous explosion swept through Kalbaron’s Inner District. The shopping district, already turning to ruins, was reduced to ashes under the fiery onslaught. The masterless shadow creatures, like marionettes with cut strings, collapsed to the ground, disintegrating into pieces.

Of course, Harang wasn’t spared from the inferno. A far more threatening and powerful heat, a shockwave, surged toward him—more dangerous than the countless skeleton soldiers.

“Hup!”

Swish-!

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

But he took no damage.

With superhuman reflexes, Harang sensed the danger and rapidly spun his sword in front of him. A smooth, circular Aura shield, like a massive mirror, formed and deflected all the impact.

Before his enlightenment, this would have drained considerable stamina, but not now.

Thanks to the growth of his mind and body, his vastly increased Aura solidly supported him.

But…

“…What is this?”

Harang muttered, his expression one of disbelief.

He had no choice.

As he had said from the start, he had no intention of fighting Vivian. He only wanted to know why she had been watching his battle with the Hydra in hiding, what her relationship with the Black Hydra was, and what she knew about the village—nothing more than an exchange of information.

But to go beyond fighting to the death and resort to self-destruction?

It was utterly absurd.

What could be so secretive to warrant such an ending?

“…Hah. Should I have just chased the fourth Hydra? No, that’s not right.”

Muttering to himself with lingering regret, Harang rummaged through the ruins, checking for fragments of Vivian’s body, but found nothing. The only solace in his disappointment was that no civilians had been caught in the crossfire of his battle with Vivian.

And then.

“…”

A girl, who had been silently observing the events without so much as a stir, slipped out of Kalbaron without a trace.

***

Strictly speaking, the girl wasn’t a girl. She merely had the small stature of one. The knowledge and experience accumulated in her mind surpassed that of most seasoned magicians.

But the bandits didn’t know this. To them, she was just a fearless child wandering the lawless zone without a guardian.

Of course, the magician disguised as a girl showed no mercy.

“Die.”

Spurt, spurt-!

With a single word, she summoned skeleton soldiers that slit the bandits’ throats.

Frowning as if tired of this repetitive task, she hastened her journey. After half a month, she arrived at her destination.

Step, step.

She climbed a secluded mountain.

Hum, hummm-!

She partially dismantled a spatial distortion barrier imbued with mana.

Only then did the entrance to the hideout reveal itself, and the sight of an unwelcome colleague caught her eye.

Zak.

A one-eyed, burly middle-aged swordsman.

On the surface, he looked like any Bronze Plate mercenary common in the city, but he was among the stronger Graduates.

He spoke.

“Vivian? Wait, it’s really Vivian.”

“…Yeah. It’s Vivian.”

“What? Where’s your clone, and why are you here in your real body? What the hell happened…?”

“Shut up and undo the inner barrier first. I’ll explain inside.”

“Hm.”

Zak rubbed his chin.

Normally, this would be the moment to snap back at the ill-tempered little brat, but he sensed the mood wasn’t right. He figured there had to be a reason why Vivian, who loathed revealing her true form, had come in person.

“Still, I’m curious… Can’t I ask now?”

As Zak mulled over Vivian’s unusual appearance, a voice startled both of them from close by.

“Here it is, Ms. Vivian’s hideout.”

“…!”

“…What’s with this guy?”

Zak’s expression hardened, and Vivian turned around with a startled look. Her long, pointed ears, standing upright, betrayed her emotions. She tried to speak, but her voice wouldn’t come.

Harang took it in stride.

But he found it amusing.

The one who had been secretly watching him all this time hadn’t even considered the possibility of the tables being turned.

Hummm-!

“I’ll ask again. Who are you? No matter how I look at it, you don’t seem to be with Vivian.”

The one-eyed swordsman, who had been silently observing, raised his presence and questioned.

Harang sighed.

He could feel the man’s hostility and wariness.

Muttering to himself, he thought,

“This place must be as secretive as a village.”

Of course, he didn’t voice this thought.

What came from Harang’s mouth was, as when he first met the Black Magician Vivian, a polite introduction.

“Hello. I’m Harang, a Gold Plate Mercenary with the Eddy Mercenary Corps, primarily active in Marzen.”

“…”

“I’ve come to have a conversation with you all.”