SFRW-Chapter 143

Ch. 143 Sword God From The Ruined World

“A shaman?”  

“Yes! They kept muttering unfamiliar words to the sky without pause, and then green smoke began rising from the ground.”  

“Green smoke? And then?”  

“At first, they didn’t know what it was… but then their hearts started pounding as if they would burst, and their breathing became blocked.”  

“You mean poison?”  

“They said it wasn’t that. Once they barely managed to escape the area with the green smoke, they returned to normal.”  

At the guild member’s report, Yamaguchi Hiro frowned deeply.  

“So what the hell is it supposed to be?!”  

“They said it was like laying down an ‘AoE’…”  

“AoE?!”  

At Hiro’s outburst, the guild member explained that it was a gaming term. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Is this a game?! Have these bastards all gone insane together?!”  

SLAP!  

Hiro mercilessly struck the guild member across the face.  

“This is why everyone looks down on us—because we spout nonsense like this! Get your head straight!”  

After Shinjo left Japan and joined the Casserian Guild, Yamaguchi Hiro naturally rose to become Japan’s top Hero.  

At first, it was great.  

Shinjo had always been an insurmountable figure, so Hiro thought everything would go his way now that he had left Japan of his own accord.  

He believed that sitting at the top and monopolizing everything would allow him to grow stronger quickly and erase Shinjo’s shadow completely.  

But, to his dismay…  

Once he reached the top, the pressure was overwhelming.  

Especially when South Korea—a country he had always looked down upon—rose as the world’s strongest Hero nation, the expectations placed on Hiro became suffocating.  

On top of that, Shinjo, who was criticized as a traitor for abandoning Japan, grew even stronger and more renowned than before, putting Hiro under extreme stress.  

Even Hiro’s own supporters whispered behind his back, saying he was just sitting in the seat Shinjo had left behind, greedily clinging to power.  

That’s why Hiro had resolved to handle this situation himself, no matter what.  

But…  

“An AoE?! An AoE?! Are these bastards out of their minds, begging to die?!”  

THUD! THUD! THUD!  

His subordinates, who were supposed to be helping, kept spouting gaming terms and nonsense, pushing Hiro’s anger to its limit.  

True to the saying that the past cannot be hidden, Hiro—once a yakuza—brutally beat the guild member before finally calming down.  

“Get your head straight! Gah—spit!”  

The guild member, his face a mess from the beating, trembled and nodded.  

The others watching also felt the same—they couldn’t afford to speak carelessly with Hiro in this state.  

“So what are those savage bastards doing now?”  

“They’re currently setting up camp near the entrance of the rift zone,” another guild member quickly answered in place of the beaten one.  

“Camping?! These savages are really treating this like a picnic! Prepare thoroughly! In the worst case, we might have to slaughter all but a few of them!”  

These strangers didn’t even speak their language.  

Hiro was willing to try talking to them like civilized people, but if that failed, he had no qualms about using force.  

‘First monsters, now savages… The world’s gone completely mad!’  

Hiro had not the slightest intention of welcoming these unknown humans with laughter and chatter.  

With Hiro at the center, around 1,200 Japanese Heroes mobilized.  

Since the number of people emerging from the rift zone was close to 2,000, they needed at least this many.  

In addition, another 1,000 personnel moved behind the Japanese Heroes—the Japanese Self-Defense Forces.  

Armed with state-of-the-art firearms, they were prepared to demonstrate the terror of modern weaponry if a clash with the primitive tribes occurred.  

‘They’re humans, not monsters. There’s no way modern weapons won’t work on them!’  

Hiro had never felt more secure than with the 1,000 Self-Defense Forces backing him up today.  

Southern Kyushu, Kanoya Rift Zone  

When Hiro arrived, he let out a hollow laugh at the sight of the primitive tribes preparing a massive campsite as if they were on a picnic.  

To anyone, it looked absurd—but at least they weren’t rampaging across Japanese soil.  

“Am I supposed to find this admirable?”  

Hiro smirked and called over a guild member.  

“Go tell their… chief or whatever leader to come out.”  

The guild member looked reluctant but didn’t dare show it, cautiously approaching the tribes.  

SWISH—THUNK!  

A wooden arrow embedded itself deep into the ground at his feet.  

A clear warning not to come closer.  

When the guild member looked back, Hiro glared and shouted:  

“What’s so scary about a damn wooden stick?! Keep going!”  

Gritting his teeth, the guild member raised his sword and stepped forward again.  

SWISH—CLANG!  

If it had been a surprise attack, it might have worked—but the guild member, now on guard, easily deflected the arrow with his sword.  

Feeling confident, he quickened his pace.  

Arrows flew relentlessly at him, but none stopped his advance.  

Finally, he stood face-to-face with the tribesmen, who stared at him intently.  

“Who’s in charge here?”  

He tried Japanese, then stumbling English—but it was useless.  

“Damn it! How am I supposed to talk to these guys?!”  

Frustrated, he resorted to hand gestures, trying to communicate.  

From a distance, Hiro could only laugh at the sight.  

But his laughter didn’t last long.  

As the guild member gestured wildly, green smoke began rising beneath his feet—and he suddenly clutched his throat in pain.  

“The green smoke that blocks breathing… That’s it!”  

As the guild member writhed, one tribesman leaped like a monkey onto his shoulders.  

CRACK!  

With a twist of his knee, the tribesman snapped the guild member’s neck backward.  

Grinning like a demon, he flipped off and landed gracefully.  

THUD!  

Roll… roll…  

The decapitated head rolled to Hiro’s feet.  

We have no interest in talking to you.  

That was their message.  

Hiro, too, concluded that further dialogue was meaningless.  

“We need information, so spare a few and kill the rest!”  

As the Heroes prepared to move, the Self-Defense Forces captain stepped forward.  

“Why dirty your hands? Bullets are perfect for these savages.”  

Hiro nodded—it made sense.  

“Thank you. First squad, forward!”  

Two hundred soldiers stepped up, rifles loaded.  

“Second and third squads, prepare to rotate! First squad—fire at will!”  

At the command, gunfire erupted.  

RATATATATATAT!  

The tribesman who had snapped the guild member’s neck was instantly riddled with bullets and collapsed.  

Others behind him also began falling, bleeding.  

“Hahahaha! Stupid bastards! Should’ve listened when we talked nicely! Bullets are the best medicine for idiots who don’t obey! Focus fire on the ones still standing!”  

The captain laughed heartily, and Hiro, watching from behind, couldn’t hide his smirk.  

Then, an incomprehensible chant rose from the tribes.  

“What the hell are these freaks saying? Begging for mercy now? Anyone understand this beastly howling?”  

The captain’s sneering made others laugh, mocking the fallen tribesmen.  

But they weren’t pleading for their lives.  

“Huh?”  

Drops of blood from the tribes began floating into the air.  

“…What is this?”  

Unnerved, the captain instinctively stepped back.  

“What are you doing?! Shoot! Shoot them all!”  

Terrified, the soldiers pulled their triggers harder—but it was useless.  

The floating blood droplets burst, spreading into a crimson mist that obscured vision.  

A literal blood mist.  

And worst of all—bullets no longer worked.  

“W-we should fall back—GACK!”  

Mid-sentence, the captain’s head exploded, splattering blood and brain matter onto Hiro’s face.  

From within the blood mist, a figure emerged—striding forward confidently.  

“…You’re alive?”  

It was the first tribesman who had been shot dead.  

His face was perfectly intact, grinning like a demon.  

Toss… catch… toss… catch…  

He casually played with a small stone in his right hand.  

Now they knew what had killed the captain.  

SWISH—!  

He threw the stone like a joke—and in an instant:  

THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!  

Four soldiers’ heads were pierced clean through.  

Hiro’s eyes burned with fury.  

“…You insane bastards!”  

One by one, tribesmen emerged from the blood mist.  

Terrified, soldiers either fired wildly or turned and fled.  

“Idiots! Don’t run—shoot! They’re out of the mist now! SHOOT!”  

But seeing the tribesmen rise unharmed even after being shot, the soldiers soon all turned tail.  

“Useless morons!”  

Hiro, now dismissing the once-reliable Self-Defense Forces as fools, shouted to the Heroes:  

“They’re not normal! No—treat them like monsters! KILL THEM!”  

With desperate cries, the Heroes charged.  

***  

Not all primitive tribes should be considered savages.  

But if a tribe prioritizes savagery above all—beware.  

Even in the ruined world, primitive tribes—especially those who embraced savagery—were often left alone even by mighty empires.  

Was it because empires couldn’t handle them?  

“They’re a nuisance. Especially tribes that worship unnamed gods, animals, or nature—they’re a real pain. Even an empire would suffer heavy losses trying to exterminate them.”  

War with savages was costly even for empires.  

And what if…  

The tribe wielded supernatural powers like shamanism, totemism, or animism?  

Seo Do-jun, atop Casserian, shook his head.  

Tribes with supernatural abilities didn’t use magic or summon spirits—yet they wielded terrifying power.  

If he had to pick the worst to fight…  

“Shamanism, probably.”  

Gods.  

No one knew which gods they worshipped.  

But they borrowed incomprehensible power from them.  

It was different from mere animal or nature worship.  

The combination of curses and divine possession was especially horrifying.  

“I’d rather fight a Lich King leading a million undead.”  

Seo Do-jun smirked.  

Both were troublesome, but if forced to choose, he’d pick the Lich King without hesitation.  

“Maybe I should’ve gone to Australia instead.”  

Sensing the overwhelming power nearby, Seo Do-jun curled his lips.  

Yes, they were troublesome—but only to a certain extent.  

“Looks like the fight’s already started.”  

Blood mist.  

Screams and shouts everywhere.  

Seo Do-jun could see the unknown tribe from the rift zone and the Japanese Heroes engaging in ‘violent negotiations’ instead of peaceful talks.  

“Blood mist… Regeneration? Berserk mode? Curses? Life decomposition?”  

Feeling the intense killing intent in the mist, Seo Do-jun recalled what he knew.  

Though this tribe was new, shamanistic tribes weren’t uncommon in the ruined world.  

Their patterns were likely similar.  

Seeing a tribesman—whose head had been blown off—reform within the mist and stand up unharmed, Seo Do-jun frowned.  

“…So it’s resurrection. With insane regeneration too. And berserk mode on top?”  

Resurrection, the most broken ability, paired with regeneration and a berserk state that doubled their power.  

Seo Do-jun genuinely wondered why such a tribe had appeared on Earth.  

Above all…  

“They’re several times more dangerous than monsters.”  

The only silver lining was that such tribes were confined to islands.  

“First, I need to dispel the mist.”  

Against savages, the first step was always cutting off their power source.  

In this case—the blood mist.  

“For mist… fire is best.”  

Blue magic surged from Seo Do-jun’s sword as he pulled it from subspace.  

“Burn.”