Academy’s Genius Swordsman

< 73. Balzac >

#73

“yes. Rule the world of the night…”

It was the car Ophelia was trying to say something. Aww! The floor exploded, and a man with a bag covered landed in front of them. A gloomy voice rang out.

“Where is Jarrodin?”

It was an incredible feeling of pressure. There were no scratches on the body of the man called Balzac. I couldn’t believe it was right after I received Ophelia’s magic attack.

“This shit…”

Ronan reflexively kicked the stake he was holding. Balzac twisted his body at a bizarre angle to avoid it and swung his hand towards Ronan’s neck. Sharp nails flashed like five knives.

“Ugh!”

Ronan leaned back. Pale palms gently brushed the back of his nose. Nettle! A belated bang rang out. Ronan threw the stake and pulled out the La Mancha.

‘strong.’

It was different from the idiots who wondered what the claws of blood were. Like the battle with Brygia, there was a chance to win by digging into a single gap. During the dangerous exchange of sums, the nearby darkness shook and a black wolf jumped out.

“Kyaah!”

“Shit.”

I thought it was pure martial arts series, but it seems it wasn’t. The shadow wolf ran head-on at Ronan, revealing its black fangs. Balzac was rushing in from the rear, which was difficult to counter. Ronan let out a swear word and grabbed the hilt.

“Let’s try this.”

Ronan swung in the direction of Balzac and swung his sword. It was a high-speed slash that was accelerated by the flow of mana. Scratch! The moment the sword was drawn, the wolf with its upper jaw separated from its head lost its shape and disappeared. For the first time, a groan mixed with embarrassment emanated from the inside of the sack.

“what···!”

Balzac sensed the danger and hurriedly leaned back. The distance between the two was so far that the tip of the sword could barely touch. There was a risk of a counterattack, but Ronan did not stop. you should be successful Ronan, who sang inwardly, swung his sword like a sprinkling.

“Look!”

An electric shock struck Ronan for a moment. Nettle juice! The sword that appeared on the sword was shot towards Balzac’s head. Unlike before, when there was no color, it was black as red as blood.

“Ugh!”

Balzac shook his head hastily. But it wasn’t completely avoidable. 👌👌👌👌👌 As the hilt was torn diagonally, blood spurted out at the same time. Seeing the exposed face, Ronan grinned.

“Unexpectedly, I’m fine. I expected it to look like a dick.”

“You are . . . quite interesting.”

Balzac’s appearance was more modest than expected. His age, which is estimated only by his appearance, is at most in his late twenties. His features were distinct, and his hair was a dull gray like an owl.

If there were any unique flaws, it was the left eye that had lost its light and the wounds caused by Ronan’s sword. A deep cut was engraved from the corner of his right mouth to under his earlobe. Balzac muttered as he licked the blood dripping from the wound.

“How many times have you shed blood unintentionally?”

However, the second flaw disappeared quickly. After a few seconds, Ronan saw the wound heal and spit on the floor.

“You fucking monster bastard.”

“It’s been fine. You have to fill this void.”

A crack-like smile crept across Balzac’s face. right! As he flicked his finger in the air, darkness shook, and the same wolves appeared one by one. Ronan noticed growls coming from all over the banquet hall. There were more than twenty pairs of eye lights shining in the dark.

“Can you be Jordin?”

‘ said Balzac in a maddened voice. In his hand, he found a spear made of blood, which was superior to those used by other mosquitoes. Dark magic alone was enough, but he seemed to be able to use blood magic as well.

“Because I really don’t want to be unlucky…”

Ronan, who smiled, adjusted his posture. He realized that Balzac wasn’t even using half his power. Sitting on Ronan’s shoulder, Sita spread her wings and roared as if threatened.

“Bye-ah-ah!”

I thought maybe the story could end here. But there was nothing that could be done differently.

bang! The two men grabbed their weapons and ran out. It was the moment when black and red blades were shot at each other. Ophelia appeared out of the blue and blocked the two of them.

“stop.”

“Shit!”

Ronan grabbed his wrist and braked it abruptly. So was Balzac. The two men, who were staggering as if they were about to fall, straightened their posture. Balzac’s eyes widened.

“…Ophelia?”

“Even if I want to dry it properly, no birds will intervene. They’re both too rough.”

Ophelia, who looked at Ronan and Balzac alternately, sighed. Balzac was speechless, stuttering as if he had encountered a ghost.

The wolves who were preparing to leap took their seats all at once. Ronan exclaimed in an outrageous tone.

“Yumma, what are you doing dangerously? Don’t run away quickly!”

“it’s okay.”

“When are you saying we can’t afford it?”

“It is, but…”

Ophelia, who was pulling the tail, twisted her lips. Balzac spoke again.

“…Ophelia. Are you really you?”

“yes. Long time no see, Balzac.”

Balzac seemed to have noticed Ophelia’s existence just then. Even in the midst of such a fuss, it seemed that he was immersed in the fight against Ronan.

“Right. The magic that just attacked me was yours…If I had known this, I would have opened my arms and welcomed you with a happy heart.”

He patted his chin and muttered. Ophelia’s voice resounded in Ronan’s head.

[That’s why I didn’t want to deal with him.]

Ronan made eye contact with her and nodded. Ophelia continued.

“It’s still crazy. Can’t you just stop looking at my face?”

“I do. Fake Jarrodin is unexpectedly interesting.”

Suddenly Balzac snapped his fingers. The wolves that lurked in the darkness disappeared. It was such a futile tie-up. Ophelia sighed in relief and opened her mouth.

“how have you been doing? See you after almost 80 years.”

“It’s 83 years to be exact. But what is that cute face?”

“I have to go to human schools, so I made a temporary adjustment. Because I can’t stand out for nothing.”

“is it. It reminds me of the time when I lived in your castle. It was fun.”

“yes. There were times like that.”

“By the way, you’re calling my name…”

Balzac put down his spear and walked towards Ophelia. She shook her head and held out her palms.

“sorry. Please don’t come any closer.”

“Have you not forgiven me yet?”

“yes.”

“okay. Don’t do that.”

Balzac quietly stopped. Ronan frowned at the submissive attitude. He couldn’t believe he was the one he had fought with just before.

‘Can we be childhood friends?’

However, I liked the way he drew a certain line even though he looked friendly. Ophelia continued.

“So Balzac. Why are you in this place? Your level is not good enough to play with these kids.”

“I came here to fight Jarrodin Stonesong. Everything went wrong.”

“You fought Jarrodin too. They’re both alive.”

“He was a great wizard. You won’t know how desperate I was when this fake pulled out a sword instead of memorizing a spell. ”

Balzac’s explanation continued. He wanted to become stronger than anyone else, and he had a rather unusual idea for a vampire. Traveling the world, competing with the strong, and drinking their blood was the reason Balzac lived.

It was said that the battle with Jarrodin took place on the western outskirts of the continent. The battle, which began at dusk, did not end until the next morning, he said.

“The abominable sun was rising and we had no choice but to finish in a draw. It’s been a long time since I had a match like that.”

He said that in the place where the fight took place, there were still mountains of strange rocks and bizarre stones. It was a trace from Jarrodin’s earth magic. Balzac spoke in a bitter voice.

“I haven’t been able to find my whereabouts at all, but I heard that there is a secret trick that these youngsters not only lured, but also created in the family. He said what he was looking for was the essence of fresh blood, so he lent me one.”

“What?”

Ronan’s eyes widened as he listened to the conversation. What did you borrow?

“Lending it, what do you mean? Was that something you could borrow?”

“Who said it was okay to intervene in the conversation? Fake Jordin.”

“Don’t do that, Balzac. It’s a new friend I’ve made in hundreds of years.”

“Come here and sit down. I can’t hear you well from afar.”

Balzac tapped the stone chair. Ronan mumbled softly and walked over to him.

“A sick bastard…”

“Did you say that earlier? If I had known that I was friends with Ophelia, I wouldn’t have treated her so harshly.”

“The sword should have blown the lower jaw exactly.”

He was reminiscent of Schlieffen in many ways, both in terms of victory in proportion to his strength, and in terms of his taste in front of a specific person. said Balzac.

“Literally. I have three integers.”

“Damn, why are there so many? Ophelia, didn’t you say you were a dog?”

“yes. In most cases, there is none or one. Balzac is weird.”

The essence of fresh blood was a kind of core that was created in the body by condensing the power of a vampire. Unlike a typical mana core that can be made only with a few years of training, it took tens or hundreds of years to establish itself. Balzac grumbled.

“Kids these days don’t even have a place, let alone have an essence. I finished my first core when I was 30.”

“Because you are weird.”

“My older brother has seven.”

“Then you and the Archduke are weird.”

There may be innate talent, but in order to increase the number or size, steady training and struggle to overcome the limit were most important. Balzac was a vampire who met all those conditions.

“Come to think of it, I almost forgot the recall.”

right! Suddenly Balzac snapped his fingers. A wolf came out of the darkness and bit Zwei’s neck, lying in the corner.

“Uhhh!”

He struggled with the severed limbs, but in vain. The wolf threw him at Balzac’s feet and disappeared. Balzac said, grabbing Zwei by the neck and lifting him up.

“The plan has failed, so the essence must be returned.”

“Come on, wait! Wait, you can still do it!”

Balzac didn’t respond. Whoops! His hand pierced Zwei’s chest. A muffled scream echoed through the banquet hall.

“aah!”

Balzac was pulled out again and his heart was still beating in his grip. The bright crimson mana I had seen before was flickering softly around the heart. Zwei looked at his own heart that had been pulled out of his chest.

“Sah, save me…”

Kwajik! Balzac gripped his heart relentlessly. The stagnant blood splattered in all directions, and at the same time, the struggling body stretched. The essence of fresh blood was absorbed into Balzac’s body as if regaining its original place.

“Wow, you scumbag.”

Balzac threw Zwei’s body away as if it were a diaper. Ronan was contemplating something and opened his mouth.

“Hey, let’s make a bet with me.”

“betting?”

“okay. I stake the essence of fresh blood. Wouldn’t it be nice to have three of them?”

Balzac and Ophelia’s eyes widened. Ronan took out the thing he had already packed and put it on the table. Parchment made from goat skin. It was the paper used to proceed with the pledge of blood.

Silence descended. There was a sense of tension peculiar to the gambling board. Finally, Balzac said with a snort.

“Why should I do that?”

“What a fucking mosquito bastard.”