martial-elf ch77

“Cough-! Ptooey-!”

Bellator spat out a mouthful of blood, glaring ahead.

At the end of his gaze was a beautiful being who had suddenly appeared on the battlefield and was toying with him.

A man who introduced himself as Pallas.

But it wasn’t just this one being.

Clearly, they were a type of beast that walked the earth like the Orcs, but these long-eared, uniformly beautiful humans flew onto the battlefield like butterflies, devastating everything around them.

Even more astonishing, in the chaotic battlefield of mutual slaughter, they showed the composure to target only the Orcs, leaving the humans untouched.

And Pallas, whom he was facing, possessed an exceptional presence even among them.

Compared to the Orcs, whose bodies were more than twice his thickness, he had a slender frame.

But the center, from the soles of his feet to his head, was more steadfast than his own.

The thick, solid muscles of the Orcs were covered in an equally thick layer of fat, making them appear clumsy, but this creature’s muscles drew delicate undulations on the contours of his body, and with each twitch, the shockwaves that erupted swept everything around him away. One could even consider his muscles beautiful.

“…What are you looking at?”

As a fighting spirit began to boil within Bellator, he frowned, mirroring Pallas’s own frown as the latter gazed elsewhere.

At those words, Pallas slowly turned his head to look at Bellator.

“Nothing much.”

Pallas tossed the words out with an indifferent attitude, and a thick vein popped out on Bellator’s forehead.

With a rough growl escaping his lips, Bellator’s figure instantly appeared before Pallas.

“Focus on this fight, pointy-ear!”

Not a stride imbued with reason, but simply an explosive movement born from the innate workings of his muscles.

Bellator moved so quickly that the dirt kicked up from the ground by his stomping foot briefly obscured the surrounding view, and he swung his club to crush Pallas’s head.

But the club was blocked by Pallas’s palm.

‘It’s coming…!’

Bellator frowned, feeling the intense shock transmitted through the club.

He had the overwhelming advantage in physique and weight.

He was even wielding a massive, solid club, swinging it with enough distance to build up speed.

Yet, when Pallas extended his palm towards the approaching club, it was he who was being repelled.

It was an unknown power.

At first, he thought he was a shaman like the Orgein, but upon closer inspection, he could feel that it wasn’t just touching with his hand, but that his entire body was engaged in a violent motion the moment his hand made contact.

An Orc covered in a layer of fat might be different, but the muscles that made up Pallas’s body were like a specimen, and the twitching during movement could be felt clearly.

However, as he had anticipated from several clashes, Bellator planted his other hand on the ground from his collapsing posture, and like a stunt, he stood upside down, using the repelling force to spin and slam one leg down towards Pallas.

Thud!

Despite the sudden posture and strike, Pallas easily evaded the range of the foot with a single step back, but a heavy reverberation echoed from where Bellator’s foot had struck, and the ground cracked.

It was a force that would have crushed an ordinary human as if they had been flattened by a boulder dropped from a castle wall, yet Pallas showed no change in expression, and Bellator threw his club at him.

Pallas dodged it lightly, but the club, after passing Pallas, smashed the heads of three human soldiers fighting nearby before stopping.

But that wasn’t a particularly important factor for either Pallas or Bellator.

As if the thrown club was meant to divert his vision, Bellator charged in from the blind spot created at the same time as he threw the club.

‘Stop breathing. Attack as fast as I can, without giving him a chance to evade!’

The distance Bellator closed was exquisite.

Using the long reach of his physique, he was in a position where the opponent couldn’t reach him, but he could attack the opponent with perfect precision.

At the same time, he abandoned even the timing for breathing to recover, unleashing a barrage of punches with the momentum of a flood.

The shower of fists, as if even the breaths for the usual battle cries were too precious to waste, created faint afterimages and shook the air.

When the fists stopped, the Orcs and the Bataar army thought that Pallas, who had faced the storm of violence head-on, would not have even left a proper corpse.

But the other Elves, who had been keeping an eye on the fight while clearing out the Orcs around them, watched with expressions that said, “Of course.”

“Hoo… hoo… hoo…”

Bellator’s massive upper body expanded and contracted as he continued to breathe roughly, the recoil from the continuous strikes he had unleashed without even remembering to breathe.

Before his eyes, Pallas stood with the same solid center as before, looking calm and expressionless.

“To dodge… hoo… all of that…”

A faint look of astonishment flickered in Bellator’s eyes.

It was astonishing that he had dodged all the punches he had unleashed at his maximum speed, but the distance between Pallas and Bellator had not changed from the beginning.

Pallas had completely evaded Bellator’s punches without moving a single step.

“Unbelievable… Just what are you… What are you people?”

He had only seen beings who were born strong from the start, like the Arctic.

He had also seen beings like the Orgein, who communicated with the monstrous and used bizarre sorcery.

All the beings in the Eastern Continent did not deviate greatly from these two major frameworks.

But Bellator didn’t like either of them.

His strength could never imitate the Arctic, and he couldn’t follow the Orgein’s sorcery either.

Among the children born of Algul, there were many who were inherently superior to him.

That’s why he pursued something else.

Rather than envying and envying what he could never achieve, he decided to find his own way.

Because ultimately, reaching victory was what mattered.

That’s why he devised ways to win.

He thought of ways to overcome great strength with small strength.

He learned how to use distance and mastered the use of weapons.

His goal wasn’t simply slaughter.

He wanted to prove that the path he had chosen was right.

At first, he honed his senses by fighting opponents who were similar or weaker than him.

Among the Orcs, for whom violence was a means to obtain what they wanted and an unchanging symbol of power, Bellator, who sought to refine and supplement the power of violence rather than simply enjoying it, was special.

And as he gradually fought stronger opponents and began to defeat them one by one, he had defeated all of Algul’s children except for Orgein and Algul himself.

When he began to be counted as the third strongest among all the Orcs except for Algul, he began to be called the Reverent Bellator.

That’s why Bellator had confidence.

He might be a little lacking in innate Divine Power, but he believed that there was no one as outstanding as him, who had realized and refined the method of fighting and winning (武).

But that confidence was shattered here.

It was clear that this pointy-eared race had a body far superior to the humans who had existed in the Eastern Continent in the past, but they were weaker than the Orcs, who were created for fighting.

But look around.

These pointy-ears, both male and female, were slaughtering Orcs with their bare hands.

He was being miserably defeated by a race with inherently weaker bodies than his own.

It was simple.

These pointy-ears were doing what he had been building up his entire life.

No, they were far beyond anything he had achieved.

Even the other ordinary pointy-ears besides this pointy-ear named Pallas, even if their strength was less than his, were at a far more distant level than anything he had pursued.

He could feel it intuitively because he had been pursuing it for so long.

Moreover, could he ever reach that realm, even after a thousand years, that this pointy-ear named Pallas had reached?

That being who seemed to be the embodiment of some concept he was pursuing?

“…If just one strike… if just one strike landed properly…!”

The jealousy he had long forgotten surged up.

At those words, Pallas, who had been slowly taking steps to attack Bellator, suddenly paused.

“Did you think you could win if you allowed a single strike?”

Bellator felt shame and humiliation at Pallas’s voice, which seemed to be filled with pity.

Pallas seemed to think for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth.

“…Then try it. I won’t dodge, I’ll take it.”

It was a completely dismissive attitude.

But the feeling of jealousy, which he hadn’t felt in a long time, made him want just one chance.

‘Even if he doesn’t know any techniques, his body itself is just a little superior. If he takes my full-force attack…!’

“…That’s quite blatant.”

“Are you going to take back your words?”

“Rest assured, I have no intention of doing so.”

He placed both hands on the ground and extended his right leg outward for a stepping motion.

It was a posture that anyone could see was meant to charge with all his might.

But it was also a posture that neglected defense and had large movements.

It was a form that could never exist in a battle where they were watching each other’s moves and checking each other.

It was a posture that could only be taken if there was a certainty that one side would unilaterally accept it.

That’s why Pallas had a dumbfounded expression, but Bellator suppressed the shame rising from his chest.

As soon as the breathing for a full-force run was over, the ground where Bellator had been standing left a huge mark and erased Bellator’s form.

Bellator Style

Bullfighting Stride

Bellator’s body shot towards Pallas like the embodiment of the concept of a cannonball existing in a different, distant world.

And when he reached a distance of less than a hand’s breadth from Pallas, Bellator was certain in that fleeting moment.

Pallas would die because of his own arrogance.

Bellator, wanting to see the regret in his final moments, made eye contact with Pallas, but he felt that something was wrong with Pallas’s still expressionless face.

The moment the mass of Bellator’s accelerated body collided with Pallas, a huge shockwave shook the surroundings.

The shockwave that spread out in an instant caused people to bleed from their ears and lose their balance.

“…Impossible…”

“Living Spirit Armor. That is the name of what has withstood your full-force attack.”

Bellator’s full power only managed to push Pallas’s feet back about three steps.

Pallas’s palm was thrust into Bellator’s solar plexus as he knelt powerlessly.

“…There’s something I want to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Your movements. And the ideology that makes them up. What is it?”

“Mu (武).”

“…Does it even have a proper name?”

Bellator laughed hollowly.

“Are you… a god of Mu?”

At those words, a small smile spread across Pallas’s lips, which had been expressionless.

“Well, if there is anyone in this world who can be called a god of Mu, there is only one person. If I had to say, I am just one of her followers.”

“…Even though you are at such a sublime level?”

Bellator’s eyes, now devoid of distractions and filled with the image of someone who had completed the ideal he had been pursuing his entire life, laughed hollowly.

Bellator closed his eyes with a resigned expression.

“I would have liked to have met her at least once.”

“I’m afraid I can’t grant that request.”

“…I should have asked for an audience with the God of War instead of a final blow.”

Bellator’s body trembled once, a stream of blood flowed from his mouth, and the light began to fade from his eyes.

It was because the hidden energy that had sprung from Pallas’s palm had shattered his heart and torn apart the blood vessels throughout his body.

Feeling the life force leaving Bellator, Pallas glanced in one direction.

The golden Elf, who had been scrutinizing him with an arrogant expression that seemed to say, “I’ll humor your level,” had vanished.

“…That lizard bastard, he wouldn’t have gone to Araya, would he?”

Pallas frowned, looking in the direction where he could sense Araya’s presence.