Volume 3 Chapter 128-3 Quest： The Nameless Asura I
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
It’s Linca.
She appeared behind Kian, who had ventured too far into the corridor.
The exit of the ancient temple lay far ahead, beyond Linca.
Given the recent battle, Kian was in no position to escape.
Of course, the fact that he couldn’t escape remained unchanged.
However, he had no plans to flee.
”Linca.”
”…Sir Kian, why have you returned?”
”Came to save my comrades.”
”I see, is that so?”
Linca took a small breath and slowly adopted a fighting stance.
Perhaps because some time had passed and she was calm, her face showed a composed fighting spirit.
He’s grateful for her mental strength—after all, he has no desire to fight a woman who’s lost her wits.
”Guh…”
In the meantime, Kian pierced the lungs of the last warrior monk he was stepping on.
Slowly twisting his magic sword, he finally slashed and gouged out her heart.
With the warrior monk defeated, Kian drew his magic sword and faced Linca directly once more.
”Fight me, Linca. I want to face the serious you.”
”…Sir Kian?”
”Don’t look so blank. I’m your enemy.”
”If you fight me, you’ll severely injure yourself.”
”Is that so?”
”…Do fools only understand once they’re dead?”
”I came to save my comrades, prepared to take injury. I won’t abandon them. Someone somewhere, perhaps, drew a blade against their superior officer—someone they owe gratitude to, not just comrades.”
”Shut up!!”
A scream-like shout echoed through the corridor.
No new warrior monk had entered the corridor yet.
In the distance, he could feel Sarah fighting, surrounded by a large number of warrior monks.
They likely believed Linca alone could quickly subdued him.
”Linca, I want to hear your thoughts on betraying Jibril. You aimed to help me, who was weakened, by defying your superior officer. Do you still think that judgment was correct?”
”────”
”Jibril will not forgive you. Your family will be slaughtered. Because of your foolish decision, your family will die. It’s because of you.”
”……”
”What do you think will happen after you defeat me, following Jibril’s orders? Have you imagined it?”
”Be silent.”
”You have no way out.”
Kian smiled at the furious Linca.
”This mission will be the last entry in your personal record. All the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed for Jibril will have been for nothing, won’t they?”
”Was that just an act earlier?”
Linca glared at Kian.
The expression of pity she had shown when shielding Kian earlier was completely gone.
Kian felt an intense aura of death, denser than when he faced Oswald, emanating from her.
If he spoke further, she would undoubtedly come to kill him.
If the rationality bound by Jibril’s orders still remained, she might hold back, but if driven by anger, he would see her true, fleeting seriousness.
Kian’s heart skipped—a jolt, like the sting of a forgotten love.
”Yes. It was all an act—to fool you, kind-hearted fool, and pull you away from Jibril.”
The wind shifted.
Linca vanished—no, moved. It was a type of movement technique originating from Eastern martial arts — Shukuchi, the “method of shrinking the earth beneath one’s feet.”
Linca’s slender, sharp eyes carried intent to kill as she struck out with her fist, aiming to gouge out Kian’s heart. Her long, black hair flowed behind her like a shadow.
Earlier, Kian had stabbed his own abdomen three times and cut his own throat, yet he did not die.
So even if she gouged out his heart, he would likely continue moving like a large bear for a while. If so, she could figure out how to keep him alive after gouging it out──.
Her fleeting thoughts were as clear as if they were in his hands.
(This is Linca’s true strength!)
”‘Shadow’…”
Kian muttered emotionlessly as Linca, imagining the image of Kian, whose heart she had gouged out, faded into mist.
While Kian had been verbally confronting Linca, he had already created a ‘shadow’ and overlaid it onto his own body. Even the black panther tribe’s warrior monk Katyusha had been deceived in the arena, and Linca had been completely fooled as well.
However, as if to say “so what?”, Linca stomped her right foot on the stone floor and lifted her left foot wrapped in short cloth armor. Just as you thought her black tight innerwear was visible, her white leg stretched out sharply. It was the second strike on the trajectory to kick Kian’s abdomen. Absolutely unavoidable due to position.
There──Kian finally touched the hilt of the magic sword at his waist.
”Huh…”
Hiin.
The air split with a sharp snap.
Linca struck.
Balancing on one leg, her body coiled like a spring—then snapped. A silver arc slashed past, her pale leg a blur.
Before Kian could react, her black boot—enchanted with Penetration—drove into his gut, full force.
The impact crushed through muscle, threatening to crack bone.
Her eyes, wide and locked on him, burned with pure killing intent.
Then she saw it. Her own boot, still wrapped in monk’s robes, hit the ground with a dull thud.
”────, Eh…?”
She staggered.
A large amount of blood spurted out.
Linca stared, uncomprehending, at her leg—or what was left of it. From the knee down, it was gone. Severed clean. Perhaps the pain sensation came later, she grimaced intensely.
(Misty Magic Sword)
Kian froze, his silver blade halted mid-swing—just shy of cutting deeper.
The Windsong Blade trembled faintly in his grip. Its crescent-shaped tip glinted under the blood-slick moonlight. From the hilt down, strange fur—black and matted—wrapped around the guard like a relic from some long-dead beast. Where the blade met his hand, fine tendrils writhed, twitching like seaweed drifting in deep water.
The sword felt… fused to him. As if it wanted to strike.
He stared.
Linca was still upright. Leaning back slightly.
Blood gushed from her leg—no, from within the very fibers of the Blade’s coating. It had severed her. But how?
She blinked. She didn’t understand.
Was she cut?
But her Penetration technique was active. It should have slipped through.
Did it weaken? Fail? Midway?
Then she moved.
In a shimmer of air and instinct, Linca vanished—reappearing several paces away. Her breathing was ragged, but her stance perfect. Even now, bleeding and shaken, her body moved with the precision of brutal training.
That was strength—not just from her magic, but from herself.
(Impressive.)
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply