The Imperial Hunter

The candles flickered. A fierce gust of wind swept through the cathedral. A 2-meter-tall heavy knight, moving with enough force to shatter the ground beneath every step, charged into the closed space, wielding his full-body shield. It was a furious charge from any angle, where the sword would find no openings. Normally, one would first attempt to evade. Dodge and then counter. But…

Thunk!

An overwhelming difference in strength. My strike penetrated the thick shield like it was made of wax, driving straight into his head. The Cartel leader miraculously twisted his head aside in the instant the sword pierced his shield, avoiding a fatal injury, and then continued to push me with the momentum of his charge. Was he trying to knock me over? The mass advantage that strength alone couldn’t overcome. A judgment maximizing that advantage. But even as I was pushed back, my center didn’t waver. It was a test of pure strength.

Creak, creak.

The sound of iron pressing against iron in the knight’s hand. My grip was crushing the titanium gauntlet, the bones, and the flesh within. The shield also showed slight openings where my sword blade was embedded.

Between gasps, the Knight Commander let out a strange noise.

Keeeeuuugh.

A desperate effort to summon strength beyond his limits, with each burst of blood vessels turning into small, distorted circles on his eyes. It was the kind of gaze one would often see in humans on the verge of strangulation.

And then I gazed beyond that. At the radiant magical power burning brightly in the soul’s circuit. The brilliance of the awakening of a natural genius, which could be called a genius of the world. There, several fragments of “code” existed. The wisdom the world gave me. Wisdom is power. I was absorbed in the primitive magic before me, like reading a good book.

“Guuaaah!”

Shouting like a scream, the Knight Commander broke free from my restraints and rolled away. He pushed me aside by giving up the shield with a punch. The chairs that collapsed under the weight of his rolling were smashed into pieces. In fact, I deliberately let him go. If I had held on, he would have eventually died, vomiting blood.

No, that wouldn’t do. It’s difficult that way. I haven’t seen all the effects yet. I haven’t engraved those principles into my mind sufficiently.

Having retrieved my sword, I kicked the fallen shield away. One of the guns that had been secured was shaken loose from the impact, and the shield became a heavy projectile that stuck straight in.

Bang!

A knee strike from the Knight Commander that twisted his waist. The shield, shot high into the air, hit the cathedral’s ceiling and bounced off. Amidst the falling debris, the knight managed to catch the falling shield and reinforced his defense.

The side exit was close to him. However, the fake knight didn’t choose to flee. He blocked the front with his shield and slowly closed the distance, stepping to the side and carefully waiting for an opportunity. It was worth turning the shield.

Crack…

The sound of the ceiling and scattered debris being crushed under a heavy foot. Although this was a fight for an unskilled swordsman, the way it was unfolding was similar to a traditional duel. Not using telekinesis allowed the opponent’s tactics to be preserved, and it was my own form of training.

Amidst this standoff, the Knight Commander’s vital signs were returning from the brink of death to stability. The organs that had rapidly deteriorated were recovering at a visible rate. While it might be different in the long run, it would provide a significant boost for the immediate combat.

The fake temple knight muttered continuously.

“O Lord, grant me the strength to overcome adversity. Bestow upon me the power to defeat the great enemy. For human life belongs to you, and my soul’s life is entirely in your hands. I beseech you to heal me and let the one you have chosen to be spared live….”

A fervent atmosphere where he didn’t doubt that his own power was a divine blessing and selection. After all, he probably had no intention of escaping after experiencing my power. If faith was power, then defeat was the result of lacking faith. It was a delusion and fanaticism spreading rapidly in present-day Mexico and beyond, akin to an infectious disease.

“…I will heed your words and follow them diligently, carrying out your exalted will, so that you may become my enemy’s enemy and my adversary’s adversary….”

Even during this recovery, the white part of his eyes, now stained with blood, didn’t clear. The spilled blood didn’t get reabsorbed; it was why they remained discolored. His eyes were filled with fierce determination and anger. The initial shock and fear had disappeared and were nowhere to be seen.

“…The faithful are the righteous, so let the holy justice reside in my sword!”

Beneath the renewed power of the Knight Commander, the marble beneath his feet shattered. Another charge with the shield held up. Was it the same sequence as the beginning? As I was thinking, the Knight Commander stamped the ground roughly with his shield.

Woong! Kwadadadadak!

The breaking ground became a wave, obscuring my vision with dust and debris. Beyond that smokescreen, the temple knight leaned on his shield and used a sudden stop to concentrate all the momentum on his sword.

Kwaang!

The impact of a sword against a sword made glass windows shake. The magical power coursing through the knight’s circuits burned with a different radiance and form than before. I tracked these changes while rotating my sword. Using the crossed guards of the two swords as an axis, I stepped diagonally and twisted my wrist to draw a sharp semicircle.

The knight deflected the sword coming towards his head with the edge of his shield and then pushed aside the entangled swords. Immediately after, he countered with a kick aimed outward. A precise move that relied on the shield’s corner. Excellent. But I had no blind spots. I closed in to nullify the attack while hitting him with my shoulder and upper body, sending the knight tumbling away.

Kwaak!

The armor crumpled with a loud noise as the Knight Commander rolled away, like a wild boar struck by a truck. But even in this state, he managed to twist his body and use his shield to regain his crouching posture. He was truly a skilled fighter by nature, not just a genius in one aspect.

Now, the knight’s body had a crushed corpse on top of it. It was one of the three who had died earlier, the one who had removed his armor due to injuries.

The Knight Commander trembled. Organs and flesh stained with the blood pouring from his body. These were the lumps of magical power tumors, still causing convulsions even after their host had died. The culprits who had shocked both the medical and scientific communities lately. These lackluster circuits were pushed to their limits by the Sicario knights, who, although inferior to the boss in terms of ability and talent, had used the remaining circuits to the fullest. It was an inevitable outcome.

“AAAAAHHHH!”

A roar of anger from the Knight Commander nearly shattered the glass windows one by one. Before the glittering shards rained down, the Knight Commander and I engaged in a fifth round of attacks and counters. Once again, the Knight Commander was thrown down. But he got up and kept fighting against me. It was more like a demolition job of a building than a fight between people.

If it hadn’t been for the fight’s breath being repeatedly interrupted by the overwhelmingly one-sided gap in power, the fake Knight Commander would have collapsed without a chance to recover.

The cathedral vibrated.

Huff, huff…

The knight, who had crashed through the walls numerous times, leaned on his shield and breathed heavily, his body soaked in blood. Heavily damaged wounds were caked with clotted blood. As he staggered out of the collapsed debris, he leaned on his sword like a crutch, catching his breath. He then stood beside the fallen statue of Jesus and raised his trembling sword. With the handle detached, he threw away the shield.

Beyond the ebb and flow of his breath, as he raised and lowered his sword, the only thing that hadn’t dulled yet was his gaze, which seemed to become sharper. If anything, it was becoming more focused. It was the same with the mana coursing through his veins. I observed these changes as I spun my sword.

Indeed, it was a satisfying determination.

Go ahead, burn everything down. Leave your true legacy in this world. That legacy will contribute to the demise of your real enemies.

Indeed. The real enemies. If it weren’t for their interest, this strong and blasphemous knight might have been burning down chapels and churches even now. His subordinates would probably still be alive, fighting alongside their leader.

I left the port immediately, not giving a second thought to this vile genius, who might have possessed high-quality “code,” and concluded our deal. Then, the Knight Commander could have become a new colossus in central Mexico, and perhaps even a drug kingpin dominating an era…

Kwaang!

The sword broke, scattering my distracted thoughts.

I had lost count of how many clashes we had engaged in. This time, it was my weapon that broke.

“Don’t interfere!”

Kyung-tae, who had approached the entrance, and another one suddenly raised their guns.

In the heat of the moment, I had grabbed my opponent’s sword with my bare hands. My Kevlar gloves were torn apart, and my skin, which had already toughened significantly, was gradually ripped open. Blood oozed from my wounds, and the pain seared. A foreign warmth spread over my wrist.

“Looooord!”

The knight who had made me bleed screamed, pounding his head with his fists. What a pleasant thing! When had I ever experienced such a fight? I had grabbed the helm with my bare hands, and our battle had now evolved into a savage struggle, resembling bulls locking horns.

Kwang! Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!

As we collided heads, the Knight Commander’s circuits, which glowed slightly each time our foreheads met, gradually dimmed as if burning his remaining life. The magical field surrounding him also decreased dramatically. Engaging in close combat with me while leaving his magical field behind was anything but normal.

Fortunately, I had acquired all the “code” I needed. Now, all that remained was to finish him off with all my might. The relentless headbutting was my way of showing respect for this savage. The large sword wedged between the Knight Commander and me was making strained sounds, under extreme deformation stress.

Kwang!

A kick struck me. The knight tried to strike low, but I skillfully evaded and, while twisting my body, delivered a powerful blow that sent him sprawling in disarray. He attempted to rise, but it seemed his body wouldn’t cooperate this time.

“Guh…”

Heavily, blood poured from the helmet.

“…May thy Lord, who led thee through the wilderness for forty years, remember His trials upon thee. He has humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger… to test thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep His commandments or no…”

A fanatic who believed in miracles didn’t break easily, even in the final moments. Victory or defeat was what God decrees. The fact that the drug cartel leader was a zealot to this extent could be seen as a religious experience for someone, a revelation that opens their eyes to transcendental abilities, to the extent that it might alter their personality.

The exhausted figure, like a wanderer, fumbled to grasp the fallen sword, like a lost master. It made a grinding sound, and the blade of the missing sword was pulled with a dragging noise. The tip of the sword, reflecting the flickering candlelight, cast faint and distorted shadows. The Knight Commander gripped the hilt forcefully as if wringing his physical and spiritual strength to the last. The sword suddenly accelerated toward my heart at a speed I had never seen before. He had crossed his limit. Nevertheless, he was slower than me. I raised my fist towards his side. With a loud crack, the sword burst forth, spinning and falling to the ground as it escaped its owner’s hand.

This was the end.

The Knight Commander died without realizing it. Was it due to his armor and other protective gear, or was it because of his exceptionally resilient body? The fallen knight didn’t collapse or fall forward or backward due to his armor or other gear. Instead, he merely knelt with his head bowed and stopped.

A bizarre death that didn’t befit his life. Just looking at this could tell you that there was no god in this world.

A benevolent god was ultimately nothing more than a product of human cultural imagination. It might be amusing, but trying to find something more than just amusement in it would be a futile endeavor.

Disclaimer:

This novel is a work of fiction! While it may incorporate elements inspired by our "real" historical world, including historical events, settings, and cultures, it is important to note that the story and characters are entirely products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work should be enjoyed and interpreted as a work of fiction and not as a representation of historical facts or reality.

Also, if you find some error in translation please do let me know by tagging me (@_dawn24) in our Discord server. Since this series is kinda hard to translate. But I'll try my best to make it at least readable :)

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