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Solo Swordmaster

REAPER SCANS

 

Solo Swordmaster

[Translator –  woni]

[Proofreader – sharlottle]

 

Chapter 22: Your Name

Few would call it a battle when it was one against a group.

A battle was fought between two armies.

Not only was it stupid to call a single enemy an army, it was also hard to call it a battle when it was completely one-sided.

With that context, what took place at the Blue House couldn't be called a battle.

But at the same time, it possessed the very essence of battle — war.

Ratatatata—!

Tens of thousands of bullets hit the ground.

Bang—!

A turret mounted humvee flips over.

“Aaaah!”

“Medics! Medics!”

"Fucking hell! When are the reinforcements coming?!"

The place was drenched in blood, screams, and acrimony.

Such a gruesome scene could only be seen on a battlefield. Especially on the frontlines, holding the fate of a nation in its hands.

But there were three problems with the ongoing 'battle'.

First, it was a fight against one single individual. 

Second, only one side was getting violated.

Third, the individual wasn't the one getting violated.

The white-haired man slowly walked through the battlefield like it was a nice stroll in a park.

“Die, please just die!”

Someone cried out desperately, his grip on his rifle tightening.

But the result was all the same.

No matter how many rounds were fired, the only mark the bullets would hit was the ground. They wouldn't even graze the man's clothes.

" Why aren't you getting hit!!!!"

An outcry embodying the feeling of all who were there, regardless of whether it be soldiers or police, their affiliations or abilities.

They would've understood if it was some kind of skill, or the bullets were bouncing off his body.

In the Iron Age, it wasn't uncommon to see people impervious to gunfire.

But Limon wasn't using a skill, or even trying to dodge or block the bullets.

The bullets were simply flying away from Limon in all directions, as if they were trying to avoid the man.

As if a ghost had possessed their bullets.

Those who were confident in their shooting skills in particular, looked like they were on the brink of madness.

Ruuumble— 

The ground shook as three tanks arrived to the scene.

"Reinforcements! They're here!"

No one would fault them for crying out in relief like their holy savior had just descended from the heavens.

If a tank shell was shot at Limon, even if it missed like their bullets, it would've still blown him up.

But the Swordmaster didn't even bat an eye at the massive tanks. Rather, he appeared underwhelmed. 

'These fools……'

Limon silently observed as the three tanks pointed their barrels at him. 

Boom—!

His sword was moving far too slow. It's movement, so dull even a slug could avoid it. 

And yet, as Limon completed the movement of his sword…

Plonk—

"……What's that?"

“Is that a bl-blind shell?”

"All three? Even if they were blind shells, how was it possible to get rid of them all?

They looked dumbfounded seeing the three bomb shells gently sitting on the edge of Limon’s sword.

How could he do that to cannonballs that were shot at supersonic speeds?

It was beyond their comprehensions.

"I would like a refund on these."

Boom—! Boom—! Boom—!

It was uncertain what Limon did or how he did it. But the instant Limon lightly swung his sword, the cannonballs flew in the opposite direction, each landing directly a tank, disabling all three of them on impact.

Seeing all the men gathered standing aghast, Limon clicked his tongue.

"You morons. Did you think a mere chunk of metal would be able to take me on when even a high-level player could not?"

They were at a loss for words, for Limon was right.

High-level players were superhuman beings who could crush tanks. That was why each and every one of them were treated as important national assets — they were irreplaceable asymmetric warfare.

But Limon was a former PAB agent who specialized in handling those same high-level players. 

In fact, on the very same battlefield they were on, there were already multiple high-level players comatose after trying to attack Limon with their skills.

There was no way Limon would be threatened by a few meager tanks.

"H-How can a mere 'civilian' do such a thing…"

"Goddamnit! I was never told Limon Asphelder was a high-level player!"

That was why as the fight raged on, their minds only fell further and further into madness.

They were unable to wrap their heads around the fact that Limon, who wasn't a player, was capable of the things he'd done.

Their impression of the Swordmaster was just a civilian who was 'kind of' skilled at swinging a sword around.

Clang—!

Though, Limon didn't bother to school them on what a Swordmaster really was.

"Is that all you've got?"

He asked calmly as he sliced a sniper bullet aimed for his head in half.

“A traitor just barged into the heart of this country, and this is all you can do?”

 

***

Reaper Scans

Translator - woni

Proofreader - sharlottle

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***

 

There would be no answer, save for a hail of bullets.

Their response told him that there wouldn't be any other reinforcements, missiles, or attacks launched at him.

‘These fools didn’t even ask for backup right.’

Limon let out a laugh. He understood.

They didn't have to mobilize the entire military and request unaffiliated guilds for assistance just for one guy.

Right?

Even if their military was turned upside down, they would still risk their lives to keep face until the very end.

‘Peace has overtaken the world for too long.'

Limon lamented as he deflected the bullets, just by walking slowly.

In terms of sheer military might, this country was undoubtedly stronger than before. Instead of using old, unreliable rifles, using the latest armaments had became standard issue.

Most soldiers were also players, with abilities incomparable to soldiers of the past.

On top of that, there were many private organizations known as guilds, that possessed even more strength than the nation's military.

But as strong as the country seemed to have become, they were also that much more indolent.

The army was inexperienced. Their commanders prioritized reputation over their duty, and guilds only acted for their own benefit.

Even citizens of the nation were filming the destruction happening at the Blue House from their windows in their high-rise homes, treating it as entertainment.

Could one really call this progress? 

Wasn't this a regression?

'We really need to bring wars back into fashion.'

Limon laughed to himself.

From the Bronze Age to the Heroes' Age, there was endless bloodshed and violence. Peace was something people could only dream of. 

So why did it feel so empty when that dream finally became a reality?

Thinking about questions he didn't have the answers to, Limon eventually turned his back on the hailstorm of bullets and stepped into the main building of the Blue House.

“Stop him! If you can’t stop him, at least buy some time!”

“Hiyaaaap!”

Perhaps it was their last resort.

Agents in suits blocked the stairs by making a barricade, using all sorts of skills to stop Limon.

They tried to attack his mind with hallucinations, manipulated his bloodstream to target his heart, and shot petrification beams without a care for their aim

As expected of the President's bodyguards, they were all high-level players, with each of their skills incredibly powerful.

It was enough to kill even a Grand Duke over level 90 in the blink of an eye if they didn't react fast enough.

One slight issue. 

They weren't dealing with a Grand Duke, but with Limon.

Slash—!

“What…?!”

“H-he slashed the skill?”

They were appalled as they felt their skills get cut off when Limon’s sword cut through the air. 

Limon didn’t even give them the time to be in shock, knocking them out with the side of his blade and nonchalantly walking up the stairs.

But he could only stop dead in his tracks after he reached his destination.

After coming all the way to the Oval Office, all that greeted him was an empty desk.

The only important thing wasn't there.

“The son of a bitch really ran away, huh.”

Limon clicked his tongue.

How could he run off when his subordinates were risking their lives defending him?

Well, it was a smart decision.

It would have been an even bigger embarrassment if the nation's commander-in-chief was trying to save face too, and stayed.

'Although, this is still pretty disgraceful.'

Nevertheless, his escape came off as tacky. Was it because Limon was a man of the past?

Or was it because of his sneaky decision to run away only after Limon had entered the main building, reading the room until the last minute?

“How stupid. If you were going to run away anyways, you shouldn’t have dawdled so much.”

He let out a laugh, and talked to himself as he stepped towards the middle of the office.

"Though, the outcome won't change."

Limon narrowed his eyes for a brief moment.

He held his sword with both hands and slowly moved it over his head.

Aiming at one spot in the air, he struck his sword down.

Clang—!

“....?!”

Immediately after, the empty space cracked open. In that cracked space, was an old man about to enter a bulletproof limousine. By his side, were his aides. They all looked appalled.

They froze like deer in oncoming headlights.

Before they could even come back to their senses, Limon reached his hand out and grabbed the old man’s collar, pulling him out of the crack of space.

Bam—!

“Kirk…!”

The old man flopped around on the floor pathetically.

But somehow, even in that moment, President Han Jungkook managed to utter a question.

tl/n: we sincerely apologize for President Han Jungkook's name.

“H-how? You can’t use dimensional skills!"

Anyone who was in his position would've asked the same.

If Limon could use skills like 「Teleporation」, he wouldn't have had a valuable dimensional player like Yoo Na-kyung on his team.

“Don’t you know?”

Was it really that confusing, or was he still in shock?

Limon snicked at how President Han still prioritized his curiosity while in the predicament he was in.

Squatting in front of the man, Limon jeered.

"No one escapes the Swordmaster, kiddo."

Despite his courteous answer, President Han just looked more confused than ever.

But Limon didn’t care to elaborate. Those who didn’t know what kind of being a Swordmaster was would never understand.

He also had business with this amusing head of the country to take care of that took priority.

“Alright. To celebrate our meeting, I'd like to ask you for a few favors…”

As Limon coldly laughed, he suddenly stopped talking and rolled his eyes.

Scratching his face, he asked,

“Sorry, what was your name again?”

 

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