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SSS-Class Suicide Hunter (Web Novel) - Chapter 276: Orthodox Faction (1)
Chapter 276: Orthodox Faction (1)
This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml
Translator/Editor: Ryuu
He was never suited for the Orthodox Faction.
-.......
Day 61 of closed-door cultivation.
Viper stood there, his mouth agape in astonishment.
-This isn't right...
A droplet of water fell from the cave ceiling.
He remembered the King of Death joking about going on a hunger strike for several days during his cultivation. Viper took those words seriously and embarked on a 60-day fast, but as the days passed, it wasn't just his stomach that felt empty; his mind began to feel numb.
-No, this can't be right... I can't even imagine the King of Death seriously practicing fasting... This kind of training seems like a waste of time, life, and brain cells.
Eureka.
It was the moment of realization.
-Damn it!
That day, Viper abandoned his 60-day fasting and went down to the Ghost Tribe village to feast. Pork hocks, fried dishes, noodles – the village was abundant with cuisine he had introduced. After making up for his missed meals over the course of 5 days, he sat in his cave, despondent, feeling like a dieter who couldn't beat the yo-yo effect.
-How can I defeat that guy?
He had wasted 60 days.
It was a depressing thought, but fortunately or unfortunately, Viper had plenty of time left.
A lot of time.
-.......
At least 60 years.
60 years.
Just barely.
-What should I do… Damn, how should I...
The only thing his 60-day fasting left him was a habit of talking to himself.
Viper groaned as he stared at the cave wall, hoping for some incredible martial arts epiphany to be miraculously inscribed there, but that fantasy never materialized.
Viper was not the protagonist.
-.......
Perhaps.
It should have been him, not the King of Death, who joined the Demonic Cult.
-... Yeah. It's all been wrong from the start.
Thinking of King of Death's brightly shining smile, Viper chuckled to himself.
-No matter how you look at it, he fits the Orthodox Faction. Not me... I can accept striving for a better world, but saving people in the Tower, that’s just not my style. I just enjoy the thrill of the fight...
Viper threw a stone against the cave wall.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
-Right.
Four days.
He did nothing, thought nothing, and nothing changed – an empty time outside, called four days by the pace of the clock hands. In the cave, without a way to measure time, only the pockmarks on the wall – the traces of the stones Viper threw – marked the passing time.
-I was never meant for the Orthodox Faction.
Thud.
-I joined the Heavenly Demon under Elder Namgung Woon, not because I was impressed by his martial arts, but just to spend some time learning... And I went along with King of Death's plans to make the two elder's journeys more comfortable... It was fine in its own way.
Thud.
-But it was rather half-hearted. Especially compared to him.
Thud.
-.......
Thud.
-I've lived a half-hearted life.
Thud.
-Wow, did I really live my life half-heartedly? I thought I was diligent. Did I just drift here without doing anything decisive? Shit. I reached Hunter Rank 6 and became the Master of the Celestial Martial Guild so easily. Am I a genius? What if I hadn't lived half-heartedly? The Tower would have collapsed.
Thud.
-Yeah. I could have brought down the Tower.
Thud.
-Being Rank 6 doesn't mean much. Will my achievements or titles be remembered? Maybe for 3 years, at most 6 years.
After 6 years, my name and alias will be forgotten.
Thud.
-Being the Celestial Martial Guild Master is only impressive in the Tower. Drop it in the real martial world, and it would barely be a mid-sized sect. It’ll just be a place where I gather kids to tell them not to wave their swords in the streets, to train themselves instead of fighting...
Thud.
-I've lived half-heartedly.
Thud.
-Shit. Go to hell. All of you, just die.
Thud.
-.......
Thud.
Day 260 of closed-door cultivation.
The opposite wall of the cave where Viper meditated was ravaged by the stones he had thrown. It looked as if a bomb had exploded there, with craters and blemishes all over. He had thrown the stones merely to clear his mind, or rather, to vent his thoughts.
Who am I?
How did I end up here?
What did I miss on the way here?
What did I manage to hold onto?
What exactly were those things?
-.......
260 days.
That was how much time Viper needed to compile his life.
He used the minute hand as the warp and the hour hand as the weft, weaving a sieve of time. Through this sieve, he shook off all the unnecessary things – distractions, stray thoughts, stress, crumbs of thoughts and emotions, the fat and flab that had crept into his life. When they wouldn't shake off, he threw stones and shattered them.
-.......
After shaking everything off, only one main concern remained.
-I need to beat the King of Death.
With just a sword?
No.
The Demonic Heavenly God Art he inherited. A sword imbued with the cries of the common people.
The King of Death always modestly refers to himself as Vice-Lord, speaking of his master with bright eyes—perhaps even sparkling ones—but Viper saw it differently. Yes. Viper knew something that others, perhaps even the King of Death himself, didn't know.
-Defeating the King of Death doesn't just mean overcoming the Demonic Heavenly God Art.
Once upon a time.
The unnamed first Heavenly Demon wandered the martial realm and created the Demonic Heavenly God Art. He heard the endless deaths, screams, and moans that filled the world.
How could a sword made and wielded by humans in such a world be anything special? Praising a sword as noble when it's disconnected from the world means it can only cut illusions, futility, and emptiness, not reality.
A sword that doesn't cut reality is merely decoration, not a true sword.
To cut the world, the sword must first contain the world within it. The world now consists only of screams, moans, and blood. Therefore, a sword of the Demonic Heavenly God Art must naturally scream, moan, and bleed.
-.......
King of Death.
He spread the Demonic Heavenly God Art to all of the Earth Spirit Tribe.
He infected them.
-…Terrifying.
King of Death's Demonic Formations Art is not just an upgrade of the Demonic Heavenly God Art. Even if the King of Death began with simple motivations like coming up with a new idea or thinking how wonderful it would be to share the Demonic Heavenly God Art with others.
It's not just that.
-Distributing the burden of a single Heavenly Demon among hundreds of thousands of common people…
Viper's eyes darkened.
The Heavenly Demon was exalted but alone. The followers not only revered the Heavenly Demon as a leader but also as a living myth, a deity. The Heavenly Demon's words were law, her actions history.
Only the Heavenly Demon could fully unleash the Demonic Heavenly God Art.
But formations are different.
Anyone somewhat familiar with the Demonic Heavenly God Art can participate in the formations. There's no need to embody the screams of all people. Just be true to one's role, like an actor in a troupe, blending into the formation and performing just that one part.
-Sigh...
King of Death is merely the conductor of the first orchestra.
The Demonic Formations Art can unfold without the King of Death. It changes and renews itself with each participation, depending on who joins and whom they choose to embody and cry out for. Uburka could be the conductor of the second orchestra, Seimslam of the third.
He has shared it.
The burden, mission, role, status, and thus, power.
-If only he had simply followed in the footsteps of the Heavenly Demon, he would have been easier to defeat…
There are others in the world who've been wounded, not just me.
I am not the one with the deepest scars, nor the most agonizing pain.
My role as the leader of the Demonic Heavenly God Art is merely because I express it well.
Literally, I am just a Vice-Lord.
-What should I do?
Slowly.
Viper stood up.
-How can I defeat him… Huh?
He mumbled to himself, leaving the cave.
There was no longer any need to force himself into solitude.
He had firmly settled within himself.
-What to do…
His emotions, past, regrets, pride, sighs—all tangled, kneaded, and knotted into a gloomy mass within his heart, weighing a hundred pounds.
This dark mass was himself.
-Hmm.
Even if he went to the village for a drink, chatted with the Ghost Tribe children, wandered the streets alone, or climbed a mountain, the dark mass in his heart remained, constantly reminding him of his [self].
The Viper in his heart flicked its tongue strangely.
-How to defeat the King of Death.
282 days.
Viper emerged from seclusion.
Clash!
Swords and blades collide.
“Argh...!”
A sharp metallic sound rang.
But Viper only has one sword forged by hammering metal. I am different. There are four more shadow-blades lurking in the shadows.
“Damn it! T-This sneaky bastard!”
He was getting desperate.
“This isn't right! The Flying Sword Technique should be sending out actual swords! Is this really the Flying Sword Technique? No, seriously, is it!? That technique should not have Ego Swords, ah damn it!!!.”
-To be precise, it’s a privilege only zombie has.
Guardian Spirit commented. He had been quietly observing our duel from a distance. Unfortunately, his response was impossible for Viper to hear.
-The Holy Sword Goddess has summoned each of her swords. She gives them a body with aura and fuels them to move, but the problem is they are part of the constellation. They’re very intelligent. They are ego swords that fight on their own. Five ego swords scattering aura and flying around while zombie calls it the Flying Sword Technique. Hmm. Very zombie-like...
“This crazy bastard!”
-Yeah, that’s what I meant. Even when I talk to myself, sometimes my intentions get across. The world is getting better each day~
Despite their chatter, it had no relevance to the current battle.
I just need to swing my sword.
I can't be distracted by the surrounding noises and voices. Right now, I only focus on Viper, while relentlessly attacking.
“Damn!”
Viper’s fierce slash was automatically parried by the [Pity Sword].
A waist-targeting strike was blocked by the [Prayer Sword].
An attempt to slice the wrist was deflected by the [Sacrifice Sword].
Then, rushing into Viper's exposed bosom,
“Damn you!”
I cut.
A slashing sound rang out.
‘Shallow.’
It's not a fatal wound. Viper hastily backstepped, avoiding a deeper cut. A few droplets of blood stained the blade, but that's all. Just like when the sword and blade clashed earlier, the sound lingered.
"......."
Again.
I furrowed my brows, sensing something strange.
‘I heard metal again.’
It’s natural to hear metallic sounds when a sword and a blade clash, but not now. Not in this case.
Because the shadow-blades aren't made of metal but of shadows.
Purely aura-made shadow-blades, even if they clash with Viper's sword, shouldn't make a metallic sound. It’s almost silent. At most, they should make a sound like something melting or being bitten.
If the metallic sounds aren’t coming from my blades, then.
‘Viper.’
It must be the moans from the opponent's sword.
‘What kind of training have you undergone for your sword to cry out?’
I quietly observe Viper standing before me.
“Hoo, huff... Haah, hoo… hoo…”
Viper was bleeding, gasping for breath.
With a smile on his lips.
