SFRW-Chapter 145

Ch. 145 Sword God From The Ruined World

Kwa-ang!  

Seo Do-jun clicked his tongue at the heavy force emanating from the raised sword.  

An unnamed god.  

Moreover, how much power could a primitive tribe’s revered deity, who arrived on Earth through a rift zone, possibly possess?  

‘So this is what a god is?’  

Then again, even Mute’s Divine Sword exhibited its divine power on Earth, so it would be laughable to underestimate a primitive tribe’s god.  

With a roar, the tribesman, imbued with the god’s power, pressed Seo Do-jun relentlessly.  

A god was still a god.  

No matter how frail the vessel, the destructive force of a transcendent being defied imagination.  

Kwaang!  

Each time the giant, his body radiating red energy like heat haze, swung his fist, Seo Do-jun’s comparatively smaller frame was jolted back and forth.  

The shaman casting curses from behind further complicated matters.  

‘Amplify Damage? No. They know it doesn’t work on me, so they must’ve cast it on him instead.’  

Amplify Damage was a notorious curse that enhanced physical strike damage.  

Normally, it was cast on the enemy.  

Seo Do-jun had already demonstrated his immunity to curses.  

The quick-witted shaman must’ve reversed the curse onto the empowered tribesman.  

Frankly, Seo Do-jun wasn’t certain such a variation existed, but given the vast and intricate nature of curses, it seemed plausible.  

Otherwise, the giant’s sudden power surge made no sense.  

‘Not just strength—other stats rose too.’  

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!  

Despite his size, the giant moved swiftly.  

From a distance, only afterimages remained as he darted left, right, forward, and back, assaulting Seo Do-jun from all sides.  

Yet none of his attacks landed decisively.  

Seo Do-jun’s defense was flawless.  

“□□□□□□□□□□!”  

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!  

Frustrated by his ineffective onslaught, the shaman slammed his staff into the ground and shrieked.  

The earth trembled, and eerie wails echoed in Seo Do-jun’s ears.  

For a brief moment, a swarm of black insects flickered like an illusion before vanishing.  

A distraction to create an opening for the giant.  

The roaring giant’s attacks grew more frantic.  

But his desperation was palpable.  

Seo Do-jun knew why.  

‘The fatal flaw of divine possession: time.’  

All he had to do was endure.  

No shaman, no matter how skilled, could sustain possession indefinitely.  

Moreover, the vessel’s body would eventually overload and collapse.  

In that regard, this shaman’s ability was exceptional, and the giant’s physique remarkably sturdy.  

Yet they were rushing.  

For Seo Do-jun, maintaining calm defense guaranteed victory.  

A fight he could easily win.  

‘Defense is good, but…’  

The giant’s movements were exaggerated.  

Overlooking Seo Do-jun’s defensive focus, his agitation led to reckless, overextended strikes.  

And Seo Do-jun wasn’t generous enough to ignore such glaring openings.  

His blade pierced the giant’s armpit.  

Schwak!  

An arm as thick as a grown man’s torso soared briefly before thudding to the ground.  

Severed, it disrupted the giant’s balance, exposing another flaw.  

Boo-ak!  

A diagonal slash bisected the giant’s torso at an angle.  

The upper half slid apart slowly before crumpling.  

Two counterattacks.  

That was all it took to reverse what had seemed like Seo Do-jun’s disadvantage, stunning every onlooker.  

“□□□□□□□□□□!”  

The shaman, having failed to subdue Seo Do-jun despite divine power, howled in desperation.  

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!  

His staff pounded the earth, and his crystal orb glowed violently, as if on the verge of shattering.  

Blood from the bisected giant bubbled and vaporized, rising into the air.  

Seo Do-jun didn’t wait.  

Whoosh—  

His thrown sword streaked toward the shaman’s skull like a beam of light.  

“□□□□□□□□□□!”  

Eyes bulging, the shaman thrust his staff forward, conjuring a transparent barrier.  

Kwa-chang!  

Crunch!  

The barrier shattered instantly, and the sword obliterated the shaman’s head.  

Thud.  

His corpse toppled backward, the crystal orb smashing against the ground.  

In shamanistic tribes, the shaman held the highest authority.  

‘With the chief dead, it’s over.’  

As expected, the remaining tribesmen froze, their will to fight extinguished.  

The Japanese Heroes, who’d have been annihilated without Seo Do-jun, exhaled in relief.  

After retrieving his sword, Seo Do-jun approached the rift zone’s gaping gate.  

Could he enter?  

The gate was open—it should be possible.  

But as he tried to step through:  

“You can exit but not enter? Absurd.”  

An irrational restriction.  

He strained against the repelling force but couldn’t advance.  

Frowning, he muttered, “Another headache.”  

The gate remained open, yet Earth’s side was barred while the other side could exit freely.  

They’d have to monitor it 24/7.  

“We can manage surveillance,” Seo Do-jun mused, glancing at Hiro.  

The man, who’d just stopped hiccuping, met Seo Do-jun’s gaze and—  

“Hiiiiick!”  

—promptly resumed.  

***  

Indonesia  

After Japan, Seo Do-jun headed to Indonesia at Chairman Na Tae-hwang’s request.  

“How did Japan go?”  

“The Heroes were in crisis, so I intervened. With their chief dead, the rest can handle cleanup.”  

“Good work. Can you go to Indonesia now?”  

“What happened there?”  

“They’ve requested emergency assistance.”  

Indonesia boasted a robust Hero force, including 11 S-ranks.  

Not lacking in capability, they rarely sought foreign aid.  

Their plea signaled dire straits.  

“The humans from the rift zone are overwhelming them.”  

The totemic tribe.  

Like the shamanistic tribe, their esoteric powers likely baffled the local Heroes.  

Then Chairman Na Tae-hwang dropped a bombshell:  

“Over a hundred beasts emerged from the rift zone.”  

“Beasts?”  

“I double-checked. At first, I thought they meant monsters, but they’re confirmed to be animals.”  

Seo Do-jun had to see for himself.  

North Sulawesi’s Gorontalo rift zone wasn’t far.  

Arriving via Casserian, Seo Do-jun found the situation worse than expected.  

“Black panthers? More like tigers.”  

Unfamiliar creatures—clearly animals, not monsters.  

Jet-black, tiger-like beasts, each over 7 meters long, carried primitive tribesmen on their backs.  

Despite the tribesmen’s bulk (easily exceeding 150 kg), the Black Tigers moved with terrifying speed, weaving through Indonesian Heroes effortlessly.  

“Their agility rivals most monsters,” Seo Do-jun admitted, impressed.  

Even seasoned Heroes would hesitate to engage such predators, let alone while fending off mounted tribesmen.  

Hundreds of Heroes lay dead, while tribal casualties were negligible.  

The battle was one-sided.  

“That’s their chief.”  

Seo Do-jun’s gaze settled on a figure near the rift.  

A tribesman twice the size of the others sat astride a 15-meter Black Tiger, flanked by four guards.  

A massive spinal bone sword rested in his grip.  

***  

The Retreat  

Thud!  

“Ghk!”  

Soliaman blocked two bone arrows aimed at his head with his forearm, only to scowl at the looming shadow.  

Crunch!  

“Kuh—!”  

The Black Tiger’s swipe hit like a dump truck.  

Gritting through pain, Soliaman slashed his machete upward.  

Splat!  

Blood sprayed as another Black Tiger’s face split open.  

ROAR!  

While the beast howled, its rider hurled a spear.  

Clang!  

Deflecting it, Soliaman pivoted and targeted the Black Tiger’s foreleg.  

Whoosh—  

The Black Tiger reared, evading the strike, then slammed down with both paws.  

BOOM!  

Soliaman rolled clear as the ground cratered, but a spear stabbed into his side.  

“GAAAH—!”  

Roaring, he yanked the shaft, toppling the rider.  

Eyes blazing, Soliaman severed the tribesman’s neck in one motion.  

Crack!  

His machete then cleaved upward through the Black Tiger’s jaw.  

The beast thrashed in its death throes as Soliaman twisted the blade.  

Rip!  

Its head split grotesquely before collapsing.  

“Huff!”  

Four tribesmen and two Black Tigers down—at the cost of severe injuries.  

If an S-rank struggled this much, lower-ranked Heroes stood no chance.  

The tribesmen alone weren’t the threat.  

The Black Tigers were the problem.  

A single swipe from them could crush most monsters.  

Mounted combat made even A-ranks helpless.  

Already, nearly a thousand Heroes had fallen.  

Tribal deaths?  

“Not even comparable.”  

Soliaman bit his lip.  

Continuing this fight was suicide.  

“Tama! Tama!”  

He called another S-rank, rescuing a beleaguered A-rank.  

“We must retreat! This is madness!”  

Tama nodded grimly.  

Never had they imagined nine S-ranks would consider withdrawal.  

“If not for those damned Black Tigers—!”  

Soliaman proposed a rearguard action: S-ranks covering the retreat.  

“Agreed!”  

Tama blew the retreat signal.  

Peep! Peeeeep!  

Heroes disengaged like a tide.  

The nine S-ranks braced for pursuit.  

The tribesmen jeered, shaking weapons triumphantly.  

Then the chief moved.  

His colossal Black Tiger advanced, its spine sword gleaming.