SFRW-Chapter 217

Ch. 217 Sword God From The Ruined World

“The world’s gone mad! How did such a monster appear?!”  

Soto glared at Koroka, thoroughly disgusted by the Half-Dragon who had evaded capture for six straight days of pursuit and combat.  

Every one of Koroka’s abilities was formidable, but his regeneration and vitality—enough to put even trolls to shame—were especially horrifying.  

For over a month, Koroka had turned the northern regions upside down.  

Countless bishops and paladins had fallen to him, inflicting losses the Papal Order hadn’t suffered since the Holy War.  

All caused by a single individual. That was why Soto urged his paladins: Today, we must kill him.  

THUD!  

“GYAAAH—!”  

Using his entire body as a weapon, Koroka screamed as a blade pierced his flank—but yanked the paladin closer and tore into his neck with his teeth.  

CRUNCH!  

“Ghk…!”  

The paladin convulsed before going limp, his throat ripped out by Koroka’s beast-like ferocity.  

“…Ptooey!”  

Spitting out a mouthful of flesh and blood, Koroka flashed his elongated crimson eyes defiantly.  

“Who’s next?” his taunting glare seemed to say, making even the brave paladins hesitate.  

Watching them, Koroka let out a mocking chuckle—though in truth, he was nearing his limit.  

The Half-Dragon’s legendary regeneration was severely hampered by the eerie crimson energy clinging to him, and six days of nonstop combat had pushed him to the brink.  

Worse—  

‘Where are you?! Where are you hiding, waiting to strike?!’  

The real threat was the unnatural thing stalking him. A monster masquerading as human, dealing the most damage while lurking in the shadows. Koroka couldn’t afford a single misstep.  

In fact, it was that creature who’d trapped him here.  

Every time Koroka shook off the paladins, it appeared without fail, cutting off his escape.  

Now, he was completely surrounded.  

“Keuk… KYAHAHAHA!”  

Koroka’s sudden laughter froze Soto and the paladins.  

What’s so funny? What insane move is he planning now?  

After suffering heavy losses from his unpredictability, they tensed further.  

“To think I’d be cornered like this… by these fools!”  

The absurdity of his situation—a mighty Half-Dragon reduced to a trapped rat—amused him.  

“Stay vigilant!”  

Soto eyed Koroka with deep suspicion. Fluent speech, draconic traits, monstrous strength—if not a demon itself, this creature had to be their spawn.  

“I won’t die so pathetically!”  

With that, Koroka charged.  

SHINK!  

A black bone spike shot from his palm toward a paladin’s throat. The man raised his shield in panic.  

SCRREECH—!  

The steel shield split like paper. The paladin gritted his teeth, twisting it to destabilize Koroka—  

BAM!  

“Pathetic.”  

Koroka kicked the shield, sending the man flying.  

Three blades stabbed toward his waist, back, and neck. Koroka wrapped his tattered wings around his torso like armor.  

STAB! STAB! STAB!  

With his scales already torn off by that thing, the swords sank deep into flesh.  

Agony twisted Koroka’s face, but he swallowed his screams and swung both arms.  

CRACK!  

“ARGH—!”  

His right hand mauled one paladin’s shoulder, nearly ripping it off.  

RIP!  

“Guh…!”  

Another paladin’s chestplate—and the flesh beneath—split open, blood gushing.  

As Koroka pivoted to counter the third attacker, blades raked his legs, toppling him.  

“Tch!”  

Staggering, he faced a circle of paladins ready to carve him apart.  

“HOOOH—!”  

A sharp inhale—  

“FWOOOSH—!”  

A jet of Dragon Breath erupted from his mouth, engulfing them.  

“Damn it! Evade—!”  

Too late.  

The inferno was already searing through their ranks.  

Koroka grinned at their screams—until a shadow fell over him.  

‘…Cheap shot!’  

A sword descended like lightning from the void. Koroka crossed his arms overhead, bracing.  

CLANG!  

The impact rattled his bones, scales scattering like broken pottery.  

WHOOSH—!  

Wind blasted his face as—  

CRUNCH!  

An elbow smashed into his nose. Simultaneously, blades speared his chest and gut.  

“Guh—HK!”  

Blood gushed from his mouth and nose as he collapsed to one knee.  

The emotionless thing stared down at him. Then it spoke:  

“Die.”  

“…Crazy bastard.”  

Koroka spat blood and lunged.  

Fine. Let’s end this today.  

He knew the odds were hopeless.  

But he didn’t care.  

***  

Led by Jerome, Seo Do-jun’s group entered the Docheng region and soon found signs of battle.  

“Looks like a bloodbath.”  

An exaggeration, but the dried blood, shattered weapons, and armor scraps spoke volumes.  

“This way.”  

While Jerome guided them to Docheng, Rakun took over tracking the freshest trails. As the group’s best hunter, no one matched his precision.  

A heavy silence settled over them.  

The sheer frequency of battle signs hinted at a dire situation.  

Koroka wasn’t someone they’d call a true ally—but he wasn’t disposable either.  

“Dammit! Should’ve gone with him!” Kusak muttered.  

As a master mage, he could’ve supported Koroka seamlessly.  

“He’s not the type to die easily.”  

“Right. To mere paladins? Pff— Oh. Sorry.” Veronica caught herself, glancing apologetically at Seraph trailing them.  

“…It’s fine.”  

Seraph’s stiff expression said otherwise, but she held her tongue.  

Hours later, Rakun’s eyes sharpened.  

“Close now.” He pointed at still-wet bloodstains.  

Seo Do-jun nodded. The group readied themselves as Rakun sprinted right.  

Ten minutes later, they spotted a distant crowd—and a stumbling figure surrounded by enemies.  

“Gloria!”  

At Seo Do-jun’s call, Gloria nocked an arrow mid-stride.  

At the crowd’s center, a black-armored knight raised its sword over a wounded Koroka.  

TWANG!  

Her magic-infused arrow streaked like light.  

***  

Koroka fought desperately, but reality was cruel.  

Even at full strength, this foe was formidable. In his current state? No chance.  

CRACK!  

His fist smashed the knight’s shoulder—  

RIP!  

—as its sword gashed his armpit, leaving a far worse wound.  

The knight fought ruthlessly, trading minor injuries for crippling blows.  

BAM! SLASH!  

A rib-cracking hit to Koroka’s side earned him a thigh-rending counter.  

This was no duel—it was a contest of who collapsed first.  

Among the spectators, Soto and some paladins gaped not at the battle—but at the black-armored knight’s identity.  

“…Grichuk?!”  

The Empire’s ‘Blade of Terror’, supposedly slain in the Holy War.  

Soto himself had confirmed the death.  

Yet here he stood.  

As Soto grappled with this, the battle reached its climax.  

Koroka’s regeneration had failed. Bleeding profusely, he swayed like a gutted tree.  

Grichuk, armor dented but unfazed, raised his sword for the kill.  

“Die.”  

Each syllable dripped like a death sentence.  

Koroka couldn’t even trigger his racial Frenzy. The crimson energy stifled him, and his stamina was gone.  

‘…This is it?’  

He watched the descending blade—  

BOOM!  

An explosion hurled Grichuk sideways.  

Dazed, Koroka turned—and saw them.  

Seo Do-jun and his crew, charging like a storm.  

Koroka’s face twisted.  

“…Now you show up?!”  

He shrieked like a child before plopping down—then flopping onto his back.  

“W-what?!”  

“Who are— Seraph?!”  

“By the gods! SERAPH?!”  

Chaos erupted among the paladins. Soto, too, froze at the sudden interference.  

But one thing was clear:  

Seraph, the Papal Order’s greatest nuisance, stood among them. These were enemies.  

“STOP THEM!” Soto roared.  

KABOOM!  

A fireball detonated among the paladins. Arrows and sword beams rained down, scattering them like leaves.  

“Keuk… KYAHAHAHA!”  

Koroka laughed hoarsely at their screams.  

You think you can stop them?  

Pathetic.  

Without that monster, even I couldn’t have handled them.  

“KHAHAHA—!”  

His laughter cut off as a shadow loomed over him.  

“You held out well.”  

Seo Do-jun.  

Koroka stared up.  

This man—who’d slaughtered his kin without remorse—once terrified him.  

Yet now, facing Seo Do-jun’s gaze, he felt no fear.  

“So that’s the one who did this to you.”  

Seo Do-jun’s icy rage as he eyed Grichuk made Koroka’s heart pound.  

A first-time sensation.  

A Half-Dragon, protected by someone? The thought swelled his chest with warmth.  

“Punch… that bastard… for me.”  

His first-ever whine.  

“Sure.”  

Seo Do-jun’s acceptance made Koroka grin.