Season 2 Chapter 676

Translator: Alpha0210

He reached out without cloaking his hand in Thunder, channeling only raw physical force. The Half King's durability was likely the greatest in the entire Unified World, so there was no need to hold back.

Yet his outstretched hand failed to graze even a single strand of the Half King's hair before it was deflected away. It was as though he had struck an invisible wall that bounced him back, but the truth was that the Half King had neutralized the attack at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.

Instead of hostility, the Half King spoke with a bewildered expression.

"What are you doing all of a sudden?"

"Let me hit you."

"What?"

Residue offered no further reply, allocating every ounce of his mental processing power to the problem of the Half King. How to break through that ironclad defense and land a single blow.

Even as his mind churned, his body never stopped. He reached out again, this time with both hands. He varied his movements so the feints and true strikes were indistinguishable. From the opponent's perspective, exquisitely unpredictable, impossible to guess where the real attack would come from......

And yet the Half King stood in place, not moving a single step, and blocked every one of Residue's attacks. In that split second, Residue had launched a total of forty-nine strikes, and she had read through every last one.

Crack!

The final exchange carried considerable force, and Residue's body skidded backward.

"......"

Did she slap him with her palm? Residue felt his abdomen.

She could have aimed for his solar plexus or dead center of his chest, but it seemed she had deliberately struck his abdomen. Was even this a courtesy born of the Half King's temperament? Whatever the case, being pitied was never pleasant, and the corner of Residue's mouth twisted.

But now was not the time to let pride get in the way.

It occurred to him that Palm Technique might very well be the Half King's primary fighting style. No matter how thoroughly versed a being was in every martial art, spell, sorcery, divine power, and supernatural ability, it was impossible to perfectly apply all of them in combat. Trying to force them all at once would kill any synergy and weaken one's overall fighting strength.

So the Half King must have discovered, through countless battles, the method of attack best suited to her nature. And there was a high probability that it was Palm Technique.

'As I thought, bare hands won't cut it.'

Then again, using One Step Through Time and Space didn't seem like it would yield much better results.

Left with no choice, Residue drew Piercing Thunder once more. A wave of searing heat spread from his palms. Invisible to the eye, flames now wreathed both his hands. Those flames burned silently, beginning to drastically reshape the metal weapon he held.

The very first form he had ever crafted: a club.

But the length seemed too short for this fight, so he extended it roughly twofold. The girth shrank somewhat, but this would be more effective.

Residue decided to call this form the Thunder Staff.

He gave it a light squeeze and felt it lock firmly into his grip. This form really did have the best feel, after all. Excellent balance between offense and defense, and perfectly suited for close-quarters combat.

Crackle!

Unlike when he had first crafted it, Residue could now channel Thunder into this club. The result was a weapon dozens of times superior to anything most Absolutes paraded around pretending was a Soul Weapon.

"Hup!"

Closing the distance once more, Residue swung the Thunder Staff.

A probing strike, first.

Maintaining a gap of roughly three paces, he unleashed a rapid chain of thrusts. But the speed at which he extended, retracted, and extended again was so blinding that at a glance, it looked as though dozens of snakes had burst from his shoulder, jaws gaping wide, lunging to sink their fangs into the opponent.

Despite this razor-sharp display, the tip of the club was blunt. Even a successful hit would not inflict a fatal wound. That was fine. This engagement was never meant to injure or kill.

"......"

The Half King closed her mouth as well. Perhaps she realized that no amount of questioning would yield an answer. Her garments fluttered as she shifted her focus from conversation to combat.

What followed was the Half King rendering Residue's chain of thrusts entirely void. Dodging, deflecting, parrying...... She did not even bother to counterattack this time, yet by the time his offensive ended, Residue's body had been pushed back half a step.

Clear proof that he had been overpowered by sheer presence alone, and it left him speechless. The longer they clashed, the more absurdly monstrous she seemed.

To begin with, the difference in build meant Residue's reach was at minimum one-and-a-half to two times longer than the Half King's. On top of that, drawing the Thunder Staff had doubled that length again.

Yet the Half King stood her ground without moving, and with those absurdly short limbs, fought as if she possessed a greater reach than the armed Residue. This meant the Half King's overall physical capabilities were at least three times above his own.

How could he breach that ironclad defense? Should he change the weapon to a different form? Or should he charge in with genuine killing intent?

Strangely, he did not believe that mixing in killing intent would let him break through the Half King. Even though it would multiply his offensive power many times over. Of course, it was a baseless hunch and reality might differ, but...... Residue chose to trust this instinct for now.

'In that case......'

His head began to overheat. His own breath felt scalding. His vision blurred into a haze, and the rolling thunder that always filled his ears whenever he wielded Thunder cut off abruptly. Something like tinnitus seemed to ring...... or perhaps the opposite, as though he were standing on the surface of an endlessly still lake.

The Half King's movements appeared to slow. Had he suddenly entered the Minimal Time Zone? No, this felt slightly different.

Amid that uncertain sensation, his gaze drifted to the Thunder Staff.

'It's long.'

Residue began shortening the Thunder Staff on impulse. Precisely in half, as if snapped clean, then halved again, then halved once more.......

What had been a long, staff-like weapon shrank into a very short club, closer in size to a riding crop.

"Is it still long?"

An unexpected answer came back.

"Still long."

"......"

It was the Half King.

She, too, wore a half-dazed expression, and Residue somehow understood what she was thinking. He nodded.

"But if I shorten it any further, I won't be able to wield it. That is my current level."

"......"

"It goes without saying, but let me restate my purpose. I want to smack you on the head."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you after I hit you."

"Then can you at least tell me why it has to be after?"

"Because it wouldn't be cool if I said it now."

The Half King looked puzzled, but asked nothing further and gave a willing nod.

"Fine."

"Half King."

"What."

"How about we spar once, without malice or hostility?"

At this, the Half King hesitated briefly, but did not deliberate long before nodding once more.

And so the exchange resumed.

Residue closed the distance to the Half King in one large stride. The Half King extended a single strike. It was the first offensive move she had shown since the fight began.

That fact alone forced Residue back three full steps, and the Half King pressed after him relentlessly. Shoulder, thigh, flank; blows that barely missed his vitals struck true and began stacking dull layers of pain.

Residue realized it had been the right call to observe, however briefly, the exchange between the Half King and Agolet before joining in.

Had he not committed that fight to memory, he would have allowed twice as many of the Half King's attacks to land.

After taking a sustained beating, he gradually grew accustomed to the Half King's offense.

Using the shortened Thunder Staff, Residue deflected attacks with a fluid touch, just as the Half King had done. Meanwhile, he kept his legs moving forward at every opening, and the three-pace gap shrank to a single step.

But from that point on, it became far harder.

The Half King's offense was unchanged, yet unlike before, he could neither deflect nor dodge. They say a typhoon is calmest at its center, but the Half King was the opposite. Attacks of incomparably greater weight came crashing down like a tidal wave.

One step.

This distance, this space, was the Half King's domain.

That realization came alongside a desperate attempt to twist away, but Residue failed to properly evade even a tenth of the Half King's attacks. The remaining nine-tenths hammered his entire body. Devoid of killing intent, perhaps, but certainly not devoid of force.

Before long, Residue's body was drenched in blood, and every time he reached out, it felt as though a sliver of his life was being shaved away.

And within that storm......

He suddenly understood why the Half King had been able to perfectly evade his surprise use of One Step Through Time and Space. One step. The space within a single step was the Half King's domain. She could counter every attack that passed through it.

This was not simply a matter of speed. Even if One Step Through Time and Space were several times faster, it still would not work against the Half King.

One-hit-kill attacks did not work on the being before him. As long as the Half King perceived an attack, she could counter anything...... which was precisely why the Twelve Void Lords' betrayal had dealt her such a devastating blow. She had not suspected, not in the slightest, that they would attack.

In other words, against the Half King, an opponent's attack was not a question of speed or power, but simply of whether she perceived it or not.......

Which meant that attacking from long range was actually the worst possible strategy against her. What a fool he had been, swinging that elongated staff trying to pressure her without understanding even that.

'If I want to seize the advantage, I need to close the distance instead.'

Down to a single step. Into the Half King's domain. Of course, entering it would not weaken her offense; if anything, it would intensify several times over. But there was no other viable option.

An all-out brawl at point-blank range was the only path to breaking through.

That was his conclusion, and so Residue did exactly that.

.......

.......

How long had it been?

How long had they fought?

One step.

That single step had still not been closed.

His vision was stained red, and sensation had fled from most of his body. He could no longer tell whether he was attacking or merely flailing.

What was the problem? What was the solution?

Residue moved with a ferocity he had never before shown, and his mind raced no less furiously, yet neither the problem nor the solution revealed itself clearly.

Then, abruptly, the Half King spoke.

"Mixing feints and true strikes will not work against me."

"......"

"Do not try to outmaneuver me. I am the culmination of the strong, the most complete transcendent being, master of the Four Knights and master of the Twelve Void Lords, an existence forged as the adversary of your Rulers. Every martial discipline and method of combat that exists beneath the heavens is stored within my mind."

He did not fully grasp her meaning.

But he could tell that the Half King was giving him advice. When he lifted his head to look up at her, the Half King, too, wore a half-dazed expression. It seemed Residue was not the only one gaining something from this fight.

"You're telling me to face you head-on and nothing else?"

When Residue asked in a slurred voice, the Half King nodded.

He followed that counsel.

He discarded all feints. He poured sincerity into every strike, holding nothing back, giving everything he had.

Lightning.

Tearing apart into tens, hundreds, thousands of branches, crashing down like a storm of lightning...... and then, at some point.

"......"

"......"

Both sides stopped at the same time.

Residue stared blankly at his own hand.

Could that even be called landing a hit? It felt more like his fist had simply tapped the crown of her head.

Well, what did it matter.

"...That was insanely hard."

With no strength left to move, Residue collapsed right where he stood and sprawled flat on his back.

"......"

The red tint drained from his vision as it gradually returned to normal, and Residue took in the sky made of machinery. Steel beams and cables interlaced like a spider's web, giving the impression of a jungle wrought from steel.

It was the sky of a future city. Beneath it, all manner of creatively shaped flying craft soared.......

"I fail to see what meaning this holds."

The Half King's voice reached him.

Residue had no energy left to reply and could only glance her way.

After a brief hesitation, the Half King walked over and sat down carefully beside him.

"Can you tell me now? The reason you wanted to hit my head."

Residue rolled his tongue around his mouth, taking stock. His teeth were regenerating, and the torn inside of his cheek was more or less mending.

It seemed he could manage to speak without too much trouble, so he opened his mouth.

"I saw a tremendous fool."

"...What?"

"This pigheaded fool had a mind set in stone, and no matter what anyone said, she never truly listened. She simply believed everything her parents told her as if it were the absolute truth of the world and followed it blindly. On top of that, she was so overwhelmingly powerful that no one could match her. That was the misfortune of it."

After a brief silence, the Half King asked.

"...Why is being overwhelmingly powerful a misfortune?"

"Because there's no one to give her a good smack."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Your Majesty, when it comes to advice, the mindset of the one receiving it matters far more than the one giving it. You can nag someone acting like an idiot until you're blue in the face, but if they have no intention of listening, you might as well be talking to a wall. So then, how do you open the eyes of a fool who refuses to hear?"

By this point, the Half King asked in return, looking slightly stupefied.

"Hit them?"

"Now we're getting somewhere."

"...No. I don't understand. I cannot grasp what you mean. What significance does such a simple act of violence hold?"

The Half King looked deeply confused, so Residue had no choice but to explain a bit more kindly.

"What do you think about the act of striking someone on the head?"

"...I consider it a disrespectful act."

"Exactly. Extremely disrespectful and insulting. If some worthless nobody pulled that kind of stunt, I would drop a bolt of lightning on his head."

"......"

"But if the man you just sent flying, the White Knight Agolet, or someone like Yang In-hyun, the Everlasting Plum Sword, who isn't here right now, did the same thing, I would be taken aback and think."

"Think what?"

"'Did I make some mistake without realizing it?'"

Residue looked at the Half King and continued.

"It means I would look for the cause of the problem in myself, not in the other person. Do you understand what that signifies? It is a thought that only arises because I acknowledge both of them as my equals. There is an underlying trust that men of Agolet's and Yang In-hyun's caliber would not act without reason."

The Half King's eyes began to slowly change.

"That is the reason for striking someone on the head. A relationship where you can smack the other person without warning. A bond where, when one of you is acting like a fool, the other can step in without hesitation. Would your retainers ever do that to you?"

"No."

"Then would your enemies?"

"......"

"No, they wouldn't either. Neither of them would. Listen well, you fool. People sometimes do idiotic things, and they cannot recognize it themselves. When that happens, someone close to them needs to personally crack them across the back of the head to snap them out of it. But if the one doing the hitting is weaker than them, or a stranger, or someone they despise, it just becomes a provocation, doesn't it? And even if it isn't taken that way, they certainly won't take it to heart."

"......"

"So how do you justify that disrespectful act? For people like us, there's a simple answer. ...In the end, when it comes to acknowledging another, the ultimate measuring stick is strength. Look at me, Half King. I personally entered your domain, punched through the tidal wave of your attacks, and in the end, landed a blow on your head. The words I speak now, and the words I spoke before. Do they carry the same weight?"

Residue shook his head.

"They don't. See? Already, even though I'm spouting this half-sophistry, half-nonsense, you're paying attention to some degree."

The Half King fell silent as if at a loss for words, then asked.

"You fought me just for something like that? Dying over and over in the process?"

"I decide what's worth it. If anything, you have a tendency to undervalue yourself."

"...Then I understand even less. If you hold the Half King in such high regard, why did you refuse my proposal?"

Residue had a premonition that the moment he finished this nonsense that wasn't quite nonsense, he would lose consciousness on the spot. Even now, exhaustion was catching up belatedly, and his eyelids felt as heavy as lead.

And yet, through all of that, the Half King still wore a muddled look of incomprehension, which brought both irritation and weariness rising in him at once.

"...Your Majesty, I have not the slightest intention of becoming your parent. In our current situation, that kind of relationship would do neither of us any good. So consider this my final recommendation."

"......" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"No hierarchy. On equal terms, with the understanding that either of us can smack the other at any time."

In a consciousness half-fading, Residue finished.

"Won't you walk this thorny path together with me?"

*****

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