Reincarnated User Manual

Chapter 220: My Name Is… (5)

Chapter 220: My Name Is… (5)

Amazing.

The difference between the first time he encountered Yoru and now was whether he could use mana or not. Shiron’s demeanor was as calm as flipping a palm.

It was simply that the heart of the Fervent Dragon responded to Shiron’s desire to win. This did not mean that Yoru was an easy opponent.

She belonged to the Silleya tribe, who had lived in the harsh mountains since ancient times, demanding strength. Although no one lived on the slopes of the Makal Mountains now, the blood that had been tempered for thousands or tens of thousands of years did not dilute just by moving their home.

In terms of pure blood superiority, it was hard to determine the difference between the Silleya and a martial family that underwent systematic training and consumed potions. In terms of their warlike nature, which didn’t avoid impending crises, they were not inferior to demons.

Yoru was a standout even among the Silleya. Despite being a woman, she was born with an extreme yang body and overflowing fiery energy. When she was born, the celestial star (???) shone, engraving the blessing of the star.

‘She seemed like a prodigy.’

Shiron knew the importance of talent. Not because of his past filled with inferiority complexes, but because he had experienced the world several times and could confidently say his opinion was unbiased.

The physique that could accept extremely pure energy and potions was not something achieved through effort alone. The fact that he created four flows in just a little over a year after transplanting a dragon’s heart was certainly not ordinary.

Because one genius could save ten thousand lives in the future, more people would be saved by her hand than those she might kill.

Even if Yoru participated in terrorism in the future and even if Berta were killed by Yoru, Shiron was ready and determined to welcome her as a comrade in the future.

He had made sure that Berta was not sought after, fearing she might become entangled in an incident beyond her capacity. He told Yoru to live kindly, patted her butt, and carved a cute little piece of advice on her thigh. He did not think this alone would change her fate, but he hoped it would make her realize how important life was.

‘Was it useless?’

Shiron closed his mind without regret.

After a significant incident of terrorism, he gave up the idea of welcoming Yoru as a comrade. Innocent civilians died because of her, and Siriel sat down in a daze as the wedding hall was blown away.

‘I gave her a chance, and this is what happens.’

“Hey.”

Yoru tilted her head as if she didn’t understand.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier? If you call me a barbarian one more time, I’ll kill you.”

“But I’m still alive.”

Shiron strode towards Yoru. There was nothing in the hand that had held the dagger. Knowing he couldn’t win with a rare dagger, he had discarded that hopeless path without regret.

Thud- Thud-

Yoru saw the shape of a hunting dog with eyes accustomed to the darkness.

Yoru stepped forward as if shielding Minette. Feeling the crisis of her kind, she ran hurriedly, but her excited head cooled down upon seeing an unexpected face.

“I’m still alive, even after coming this close.”

Shiron shrugged and laughed.

“Do barbarians have a habit of enjoying lying? Or are you putting on a false front out of fear… Should I report this new finding to the academy?”

“Shiron Prient.”

Yoru erased her smile and licked her lips.

“Even though you’re a grand noble of the empire, I’ve heard you’re a gentleman who doesn’t look down on other races… I didn’t expect it was you who not only killed my kind but also insulted them.”

“Have we met before? You speak as if you know me.”

They had met in the Black Flame Dragon Gorge, but Shiron pretended not to know.

“When saving my kin, I saw you from afar.”

Yoru recalled not-so-distant memories. When rescuing Natalia, a man who looked far from strong was staring blankly at the sky…

‘It’s different now.’

Yoru grasped her sword hilt.

The Shiron Prient she met again had a different aura.

Despite what she had just said, the man had grown so strong that she couldn’t easily kill him.

It wasn’t just that.

Feeling the tremors behind her and the scent of blood filling her nose, Yoru clicked her tongue.

‘She has lost a lot of blood…’

The crisis of her kin had killed her desire to fight. Although Yoru didn’t have a good enough personality to ignore a provocation right in front of her, she wasn’t crazy enough to seek a fight while leaving her kin in a life-threatening situation.

“Are you not attacking? Or are you scared?”

“…”

Repeating what he said would hurt her pride.

Being branded a coward for running away, she didn’t care if she could save her comrades safely.

Shiron noticed the subtle atmosphere and made sure she couldn’t think of running away.

“Look, I don’t have a weapon even now.”

“…”

“Go ahead and kill me? You’re just fiddling with the handle.”

Shiron kept his leisurely pace and playfully assumed a surrendering posture.

And then, a holy sword sprang from his palm towards Yoru.

Swoosh-

A hole was pierced in Yoru’s shoulder. It was such a surprising attack without any killing intent that she couldn’t help but be caught. But she didn’t react completely. Yoru quickly stepped back, not giving him a chance to take her arm.

“Y-You cowardly bastard…!”

“Haha… This is hilarious. Where is cowardice in a life-and-death fight?”

Shiron grasped the holy sword again and walked leisurely. With her dominant arm pierced, Yoru’s main hand was as good as sealed.

Victory was assured, but Shiron suppressed his impatience and remained calm.

Even with one arm sealed, Yoru was a threatening opponent.

Look, just a blink of an eye and the sword was already pointed at him.

A murderous sword strike surged.

Yoru swung her sword despite the fatal wound. Thinking about running was a mistake. She should have just let her boiling anger take over. Yoru tried to cut Shiron with her belated regret.

It was a predictable response.

Shiron closed his eyes and extended his palm. Flash—The divine light filled the underground passage with a blinding glare. Yoru’s eyes, which were already not functioning properly, couldn’t catch the silent approach of the attack.

Thud—

The holy sword pierced Yoru’s left thigh. Shiron didn’t stop there and twisted the handle greatly. Crunch—A chilling sound was heard, followed by a scream filled with pain.

“P-Princess!”

“Don’t worry about me, just run!”

Yoru gritted her teeth and steadied herself. Although there was a hole in her thigh large enough for a finger to fit through, she could still manage to take a stance.

Yoru carefully parried the white sword swinging towards her. Even while trying to find an opening for a counterattack, she couldn’t see one.

It wasn’t just because of the flashing light; there wasn’t a single gap in the form of the man swinging the sword.

If her body were in perfect condition, she might have been able to force an opening with a quick sword, but she couldn’t use such a move now.

Shiron, knowing this, pushed Yoru slowly and cautiously.

The slow but clever strikes were distinctly different from when he faced Minette. Back then, Shiron had treated her as a mere practice opponent and hadn’t used his full strength.

Thud—The holy sword pierced her thigh again.

“Cowardly barbarian.”

Shiron sang provocations while swinging his sword.

Crack—The holy sword grated against the bone inside.

“Barbarian without honor.”

Slash—Flesh was carved away.

“Can’t even block such a slow attack?”

This, too, was a move born of his caution towards Yoru. Anger made one lose their reason, and an irrational body created gaps.

“Pathetic, pathetic.”

Shiron swung his sword while keeping a close eye on the situation.

“Apologize. Apologize to the innocent imperial citizens who died because of you.”

He never let his guard down.

“Your swordsmanship is garbage. You haven’t landed a single scratch on me.”

Conscious of the slippery ground beneath him, he continually reminded himself that the woman in front of him was one of the strongest on the continent.

“A sewer is too good a grave for a pathetic barbarian like you.”

However, perhaps because she was called a prodigy, Yoru, despite her fiery temper, did not show much agitation from the continuous provocations.

Despite dozens of killing strikes, Yoru had not fallen. Even in this situation, she was avoiding critical hits from the unavoidable attacks.

“Barbarian slut.”

Knowing her well, Shiron raised the level of his taunts.

“Give birth to as many as you killed.”

Yoru’s face showed signs of disturbance. There was no reason to hold back a provocation that worked well. Shiron spoke again in a tone contrasting his cautious sword strikes.

“Give birth to as many as you killed.”

“Sh-shut up!”

The shrill shout didn’t come from Yoru. It was Minette, still not having run away, bleeding all over.

Shiron spared a very brief glance at Minette.

Clang.

She held a black, heavy-looking metal object. Yoru couldn’t guess what it was, but she knew it wasn’t a weapon meant for swinging.

However, Shiron knew exactly what it was.

A revolver. A self-defense tool for low-ranking officers who couldn’t emit sword energy. It couldn’t kill Shiron, but the 2-on-1 situation wasn’t what he desired.

Minette, aware of this, hadn’t run away. She had lost too much blood to swing a sword, but with this weapon, even she, unable to use magic, could create an opening against the human butcher.

Steadying her trembling hand, Minette aimed at Shiron’s head.

“Die.”

Bang!

The bullet hit Shiron’s head.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

She emptied the entire chamber without stopping. Although not every shot hit his head due to the rapid firing, she confirmed by the muzzle flash that several lead pieces had lodged into his skull.

The sword strikes pouring onto Yoru ceased, and the mouth that had been continuously spewing taunts fell silent.

“…Did we get him?”

Yoru, who had been barely parrying the attacks, muttered. She was also dizzy from the blood loss. That’s when she noticed the sound of a fiercely beating heart.

“…”

In the darkness, their eyes met.

A grotesque chill ran down the spines of both women.