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Chapter 139 - Chapter 139: Clash of Killing Intent – The Light Reaper Unleashed

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"Show me what a King's Light Reaper really looks like."

Allen shut off his perception of sound.

He abandoned all restraint over his own killing intent.

In the hyper-focused state of his Flow Sense, faint tremors rippled outward from his throat—like droplets disturbing the surface of a black, viscous lake.

His edge.

His killing intent.

Crashing against the "darkness" five meters ahead.

Crashing against—

The flickering white thread of Ghislaine's suppressed—but still detectable—killing intent!

Killing intent.

Colliding.

Ripples surged, then—

Boiled over.

The "darkness" convulsed like scalding water stabbed by a white-hot rod, bubbles bursting violently as the opposing auras clashed.

Swelling. Shaking.

A tidal wave of intent erupted!

And in the roar of that wave—

A voice answered.

"Good."

All bubbles shattered.

The white thread streaked through the void, a comet's tail of light.

In an instant—it pierced Allen's flank.

Too fast to react.

The sheer speed forced him out of Flow Sense.

Color flooded back into the world.

A crimson blade, as if teleporting, already hovered at his abdomen.

Rudeus watched.

This time, he refused to blink.

He wouldn't miss the pinnacle of Sword God techniques—the skill Allen and Paul so often praised.

As a reincarnated man, he knew this world's magic and swordsmanship defied logic.

Magic already felt limitless to him, even though his highest-tier spells were only Saint-class.

So what about swordsmanship?

The art that surpassed magic in status and power—capable of splitting boulders with wooden swords.

What would its apex look like?

This was a King's Light Reaper.

His gaze locked onto Ghislaine's sheathed blade.

Then—

His mind stuttered.

It was like stepping from a bustling marketplace into absolute silence.

He froze.

No—

Not silence.

His hearing had cut out.

By the time he realized it, Ghislaine was already gone.

Damn it! Missed it again!

He whipped his head toward Allen—

And the world exploded.

A deafening shriek tore through the courtyard as visible shockwaves erupted from Allen's position, kicking up dust and grass.

Wind howled, debris stinging Rudeus' eyes.

The ringing in his ears came late.

Because the blade this time was faster.

When he forced his eyes open—

Leaves rained down.

And through the gaps—

Allen stood unmoved, his blade extended perfectly to intercept—

Ghislaine's sword.

Frozen mid-air.

Again, he had "coincidentally" placed his blade where it needed to be.

Again, his Flow Sense defied logic.

Rudeus' pulse raced.

His hearing returned in fragments—Eris' cheers growing louder, pulling his own excitement higher.

He wanted to shout.

Allen blocked a King's Light Reaper!

Does that mean—?

Then Allen's voice cut through, cold and dissatisfied.

"Pity."

Not to Ghislaine.

To himself.

In the eye of the storm, Allen's disheveled bangs settled over his eyes.

He lowered his gaze.

Ghislaine's blade hovered precisely 15 centimeters from his waist—

The same distance as before.

No deviation.

The gale-force winds?

From her halting the strike mid-motion.

The momentum canceled, the force discharged into the air like a detonation.

Ghislaine stared at Allen's blade, astonishment and admiration plain on her face.

"Pity? You're too humble. To predict my Light Reaper twice is astounding."

"I've never seen a Saint—no, even a King—'see' my strike. Past opponents dodged or retreated. None ever pinpointed the blade's path."

"Not even Water God masters."

Allen recalled the original timeline—where a frenzied Ghislaine diced a Sword Saint into mincemeat before they could lift their sword.

That was the gatekeeper of Imperial-tier.

Footsteps approached—Eris and Rudeus rushing over.

Allen tilted his blade, letting sunlight glint off the steel—

And the stagnant killing intent clinging to it.

Eris skidded to a stop, shivering. She glanced between Allen and Ghislaine, confused.

"What just happened?! Who won? Why 'pity'?"

The reflected light flashed in her eyes.

She squinted—

And saw it.

A notch.

A hairline fracture near the blade's midpoint.

A swordsman's mark.

The cut of the Light Reaper.

Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 215 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 80 power stones I will publish the next chapter.

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