Reincarnated User Manual - Chapter 199: Golden Warning

It was neither the armor of the God of Decay nor the ruler of the Land of the Dead that had fallen in the Colosseum.

So, it was natural for Shiron’s brow to furrow.

‘What is that?’

Golden armor.

It was unfamiliar. No matter how much he rummaged through his memories, he had neither seen nor heard of such sophisticated armor during his time playing ‘Reincarnation of the Divine Sword.’

“My friend, where is Verian!”

Until he heard the voice, Shiron did not recognize who this person was.

“Verian!!!! If you can hear me, answer!!!”

Unlike the unfamiliar armor, the booming voice was recognizable. The robust middle-aged male voice belonged to Korax, the temple guardian.

The armor of the God of Decay? The ruler of the Land of the Dead?

Had the scenario changed so much that their turn came earlier? He could think that, but Korax from ‘Reincarnation of the Divine Sword’ had never worn such conspicuous armor.

It wasn’t just the appearance that had changed. Shiron had encountered apostles three times. Not counting Jaganata, as it was not his true form, that made it twice.

Yet now, the immense aura emanating from the center of the Colosseum was something he had never experienced before.

A murderous intent filled with rage. Shiron didn’t believe in killing intent, but there was no other way to describe what he was feeling now.

‘So, Verian was that important to you? Skipping two invasions in armor I do not recognize and making a personal appearance…’

‘Not good.’

Korax, emitting a massive killing intent that could turn the area to dust at any moment, pondered what needed to be done to kill him most efficiently. Understanding this, Shiron immediately took action.

“Your friend? Ah, ‘this’ you mean?”

Magic was slow. So, Shiron decided to provoke with a sneer.

“You heard it too? That ’s your companion?”

“I, I don’t know that guy! I don’t!”

It was highly effective. Korax’s eyes met Shiron’s. The random killing intent was now fully focused on Shiron alone, and he soon experienced a peculiar sensation of his breath being choked.

Thousands, tens of thousands of blades seemed to rush to slice his flesh. At that moment, Shiron looked at Korax.

He saw Lucia.

A progressively stronger enemy, the tenth battle against said enemy.

The past two months of struggle had sharpened Lucia into a fine blade. No longer the peace-loving Lucia, but now embodying the essence of Kyrie, the sword saintwho had reigned supreme on the battlefield.

‘Shiron…’

Lucia couldn’t clearly understand why Shiron had provoked her in such a manner. A little thought could have provided the answer, but not now. There was no time to spare. Her instincts, honed by countless experiences, screamed that it was time to swing the sword, not to think.

As quick in judgment as in action, Lucia immediately awakened the Star Sword. Sirius was covered in white aura, and at the same time, a brilliant blade rushed at the golden nape.

Kwaang!

It wasn’t the sound of a blade slicing something. Should she have aimed for a gap in the armor? Such a thought briefly crossed her mind, but what she had just seen was entirely exposed flesh. However, that was no reason to stop the blade.

Lucia intended to slice through the armor entirely, igniting her core with heat. Korax barely regained his paralyzed rationality.

“Coward!”

Bwooong! The hammer in his hand, the Orphan Maker, spun rapidly. The impending cleave was narrowly avoided. Lucia, undisturbed, changed her sword path.

The rapidly spinning mass, matched by equally swift sword strikes, clashed. In a moment, tens, hundreds of exchanges occurred. Korax created a golden flow to prevent the blade from penetrating, while Lucia thrust the sword qi thousands of times per second into the gaps.

Drrrk, Drrrk!

Boowaaaa! A chilling sound was heard. Striking, penetrating, and piercing movements were incompletely expressed by the sound.

“What the hell is with this guy?”

Lucia’s eyes widened. The massive figure in golden armor was spinning the giant hammer as if it were a chopstick. It wasn’t merely about strength; strength alone couldn’t achieve such a feat.

Both strength and agility were at the highest level. She was about to conclude that, but her instinct for reading her opponent sensed the rotating center of the golden light.

The wrist was rotating fully.

“What kind of joint structure is that?”

Thousands of rotations per second, the secret of this mystery lay in a physical structure that couldn’t be considered that of a living creature. Korax was also horrified by Lucia’s attempt to exploit any gap.

“She’s not human.”

Korax muttered, his face distorted. Even though he didn’t shout, the air carrying his anger resonated loudly. The golden armor, the orphan maker, responded to Korax’s will. He increased the output, and the heated drive shaft cooled as the storm enveloped it.

Chiiiek!

White steam burst from various seams of the armor, just as the view was about to be obscured. A storm from outside the view blew away all the foggy mist.

“…Coward.”

Korax spoke to the human acting outside of consciousness. Shiron didn’t respond, softening the ground that Korax had stepped on. Soggy—the center twisted. Lucia didn’t miss the opportunity. A sharp strike aimed at the armor’s gap, the face.

Chwak—tainted blood scattered into the sky. A brief gap allowed the sword strike, and Korax clenched his teeth in an irrational situation.

‘I feel like a hunted beast.’

It wasn’t just Shiron’s interfering magic that was unreasonable. To overcome the odds of one against many, support from Jaganata was necessary, but no help was extended to Korax.

Just earlier, the passageway he had come through had disappeared. Korax couldn’t understand why the passageway had vanished, but he could vaguely guess. Surely, a hero shooting magic from behind had played a trick.

An oppressive situation made breathing difficult. Yet, for Korax, annihilating his adversaries wasn’t the primary objective.

The rescue of Verian.

And their subsequent return together.

Verian appeared not to recall Korax, but that was of little consequence. If he shared the tales of their burgeoning friendship, Korax was certain Verian would recollect.

Thus, Korax took a step back. Even if it meant distancing himself, he needed to draw nearer to his friend.

It was the correct choice. Had the sole adversary he needed to confront been the woman before him, he would have advanced. However, behind her stood not only a hero with a sword directed at Verian’s throat but also an elf magician adorned in peculiar attire.

A hero, once deemed the gods’ enforcer.

Korax was the last to be named an apostle. His earliest memory dated back only 400 years, leaving him unaware of the events 500 years prior, but even in his youth, he was well-versed in the hero’s legends.

In the dwarf village of his upbringing, a statue of the hero stood. It symbolized the obliteration of the demon god’s forces. A divine sword that shielded the vulnerable and vanquished evil. The epitome of righteousness!

‘Is this truly a hero?’

Korax trembled at the hero’s ignobility.

Justice, which bolstered faltering humanity against the onslaught of the demon god’s army. That was the hero… yet he had taken Verian, an innocent who merely sought to pursue his research, captive, subjecting him to relentless torment.

This diversion, though Korax’s immediate concern should have been the woman before him, caused his focus to shift to Shiron. This lapse in attention might be deemed reckless, but he found it unavoidable.

Just moments before, amidst a fraught situation, he had a revelation.

A sword, its brilliance surpassing even the most dazzling qi, glowed magnificently.

A sacred sword was poised at Verian’s throat.

Every time Korax took a step back, Shiron plunged the blade deeper into Verian’s neck. If he had severed Verian’s neck right then, he might have relinquished his grip on the thread of impossible hope sooner…

Korax’s anger toward Shiron swelled.

Thud!

Finally, Korax could no longer retreat. His only option was to overpower the woman before him and then save Verian.

Gooooooo!

The Orphan Maker resonated with Korax’s will. Its output increased not by one, but by two levels, as gas that propelled it in the desired direction burst from the joints and nozzles on its back.

Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwang! Even if the swinging hammer didn’t touch the sword qi, merely striking the air produced a terrifying noise. However, that immense brute force seemed to falter, as if it had lost its way. Attacks lacking composure don’t work on Lucia. Lucia’s mind was like a calm lake, enabling her to fully visualize the enemy before her in her psyche.

Korax grew anxious. He was on the verge of exploding with anger. Although cool judgment is crucial in battle, his agitated emotions continually prevented him from maintaining his composure.

“Hero! Wield the holy sword and fight with honor!”

With this, he taunted Shiron.

“Hiding behind such a frail woman! Taking hostages and threatening them, what kind of justice is that! Do you really think you are worthy of the title of a hero!!”

He acted impulsively, casting aside reason. In the life-or-death stakes of the battlefield, he sought to undermine his opponent by highlighting his ethical shortcomings.

Korax clung to the hero’s sense of honor.

“When your companion is in such dire straits, why not extend a helping hand! Is this your sense of justice! Be ashamed!”

He employed the same reasoning the hero had used.

“The one who should be ashamed is you! Taking an elf, who is powerless, hostage, and not stopping at torturing him! You continue to press a knife against his neck! How does that align with the actions of a hero championing justice!”

Shiron listened to the outcry, filled with anger and sadness, then calmly spoke,

“Your mother.”

Korax’s anger exploded.