Chapter 43
If one had to define the relationship between Tyrant Lim Chang-yeol and Park Chan-woo, it would be “complete strangers.”
They had never directly encountered one another, nor had their factions ever clashed—there was truly no point of contact between them.
Lim Chang-yeol operated strictly from the shadows.
He ruled the underworld and commanded everything from behind the scenes.
He had focused on building power through influence rather than personal strength.
In that sense, he was the exact opposite of Park Chan-woo.
But that didn’t mean Lim Chang-yeol himself was weak.
[The Invincible Tyrant. The Master of All Weapons. The Butcher of the Battlefield.]
It was said there wasn’t a single weapon he couldn’t wield, nor a single human he couldn’t kill.
Whenever he took up arms, he would lay waste to the battlefield—hence the nickname “Butcher.”
They said he mastered every weapon and, at his peak, could rival even those who had reached Level 99.
When all of this is taken into account, there’s only one conclusion:
[The Strongest in the Human Realm.]
Lim Chang-yeol was often mentioned as one of the strongest humans alive.
That is, in the [human realm]—excluding the [celestial realm] where monsters like Han Shin and Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo resided—he was unmatched among mortals.
He wasn’t counted among the celestial beings, but still, he was acknowledged.
‘Those men understand weapons on a whole different level.’
Han Shin, Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo—all of them had reached the pinnacle, the ultimate truth of swordsmanship.
Their understanding of their weapons wasn’t something others could even hope to catch up to.
They were simply built differently.
In terms of swords alone, Park Chan-woo was born human, while they were born lions, tigers, elephants, or dinosaurs.
Not being able to accept this difference had caused him to wander for a long time.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t use a sword well.
He was undoubtedly skilled—but he had never broken past the wall into transcendence.
His true talent lay in magic.
Though he entered the magical path late, he was eventually called the [First Spellblade]. But to him, that title was more of a curse.
What about Lim Chang-yeol?
‘…The rumors weren’t exaggerated.’
To be honest, he had been curious.
The skills of Lim Chang-yeol, who was ranked alongside him as one of the strongest in the human realm.
Being able to use all weapons usually meant a lack of deep understanding in any one.
But apparently, he had misjudged.
‘Lim Chang-yeol is a genius—a genius of killing, unbound by weapon type.’
To Lim Chang-yeol, weapons were simply tools.
Tools for the hunt.
It didn’t matter whether it was a sword, axe, spear, or bow.
With monster-like instincts, he knew exactly how to handle his prey. He could deduce what weapon to use, and how to use it for each situation.
‘To think he identified my equipment’s weak point.’
And that [durability] flaw wasn’t even widely known back then.
Abyss gear had durability, but as long as it wasn’t at zero, the gear maintained its form.
That led to the mistaken belief that even when durability dropped, the defensive and offensive properties remained the same.
But those with keen senses could detect the “gaps” caused by worn durability.
‘I could never do that.’
Unfortunately, Park Chan-woo lacked that kind of talent.
Only those in the [celestial realm] could pull off such a feat.
In other words, Lim Chang-yeol’s abilities rivaled those monster-like beings.
Perhaps that was why—
Watching Lim Chang-yeol fight Kim Byung-han—
‘My blood’s boiling.’
…He could feel his heart pounding, his blood rushing.
The Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo, whom he had seen before, was still in a growth phase.
But Lim Chang-yeol’s talent had already fully bloomed.
He had mastered how to wield weapons, how to kill, how to hunt—he had mastered everything.
The pinnacle of pure skill.
No wonder he became strong so quickly after the Abyss appeared.
“What are you hesitating for?”
Lim Chang-yeol’s eyes glinted as he looked at Park Chan-woo.
From the moment Kim Byung-han fell to now, Park Chan-woo’s gaze hadn’t changed—still that same unreadable expression.
No surprise. No fear.
Just cold, calculated observation of their fight.
At the same time, Lim Chang-yeol sensed a rising desire in his eyes.
‘Unbelievable.’
That desire was [fighting spirit].
What made it absurd wasn’t that he wanted to fight—it was the type of fighting spirit he showed.
‘He’s measuring me.’
He wasn’t just eager to fight—he wanted to confirm if Lim Chang-yeol was the real deal.
A form of curiosity under the name of will to fight.
For ages, Lim Chang-yeol had been called the apex predator, a living legend. Though he hadn’t trained in formal martial arts, he was considered a master of weapons.
Naturally, those who knew of him never looked at him with eyes like that.
His reputation alone silenced any doubt.
Even after watching him dominate Kim Byung-han, Park Chan-woo remained unimpressed.
He wanted to see something even stronger from Lim Chang-yeol.
‘He’s either insane… or the real thing.’
Only the real ones can recognize another real one.
Was Park Chan-woo insane? Or was he real?
He definitely seemed like the former—but Lim Chang-yeol hoped it was the latter.
“Can I pick any weapon from that box?”
Park Chan-woo slowly pointed to the wooden chest.
Lim Chang-yeol replied, holding his breath.
“…You can use your Abyss weapon if you want.”
“No. I’ll choose from the box.”
After all, Park Chan-woo’s only weapon was the [World Tree Staff].
He couldn’t exactly pull that out here.
“Park Chan-woo! Don’t be an idiot!”
Kim Byung-han yelled, clutching his wound.
His head was spinning, but he couldn’t afford to show weakness.
No matter how much of a beast Park Chan-woo was, Lim Chang-yeol was too much.
‘I let my sword path leak on purpose. Lim Chang-yeol is the real deal.’
He dropped his guard from an obvious move.
Not realizing that the opponent was deliberately baiting him.
He had taken the bait perfectly.
But even if he hadn’t, the result wouldn’t have changed.
He had always believed level was everything. Gear was everything.
Until now, no one had ever broken those rules.
Lim Chang-yeol was the first.
‘How the hell is a guy with a lower level supposed to beat someone like that?’
Kim Byung-han was convinced that Park Chan-woo hadn’t even broken past the first level cap.
With low level, no proper equipment, and facing Lim Chang-yeol—a man who looked like he’d been fighting his entire life—how was someone like Park Chan-woo supposed to win?
As far as Kim Byung-han knew, Park Chan-woo was just an ordinary office worker.
There was no way he could beat Lim Chang-yeol.
“I’ll go with this.”
At last, Park Chan-woo pulled his chosen weapon from the box.
Lim Chang-yeol’s eyebrow twitched at the sight.
“…Twin hand axes?”
He held a hand axe in each hand.
It was a scene you’d expect to see in a movie or TV show.
Cool, maybe—but practical? That was questionable.
Lim Chang-yeol sighed inwardly.
‘So he really was just a lunatic.’
More than disappointed—he was annoyed.
He’d never once seen anyone use twin hand axes in actual combat.
Maybe he’d have to chop off a finger to stop him from acting out again.
“Then… let’s begin.”
Lim Chang-yeol got into position.
He stepped in, closing the distance.
Fast and clean—he planned to end it decisively.
First—
‘Left side.’
From what he’d observed so far, Park Chan-woo seemed right-handed.
Lim Chang-yeol swiftly stepped in, aiming at his left side.
His plan was to drive his dagger right under the armpit.
Ssshhk!
But Lim Chang-yeol didn’t get what he wanted.
Park Chan-woo pressed the dagger under the axe blade and pinned it downward.
Then, as Lim Chang-yeol’s posture dropped forward, he swept a foot to trip him.
‘This bastard…!’
That move was only possible with perfect timing and precise calculation.
Who could have imagined slipping a dagger into that narrow L-shaped gap between axe blade and handle?
Though he avoided being tripped by rolling halfway, Park Chan-woo had predicted even that.
He twisted his torso and immediately followed up with a swing from the right-hand axe.
“Hrk…!”
The axe grazed Lim Chang-yeol’s side.
A bit less flexibility and it would’ve cleaved off a chunk of flesh.
Lim Chang-yeol rolled and broke his fall, quickly rising to his feet.
“……”
Just once.
It was just a single moment—an exchange of attack and defense—but he knew.
‘…This guy’s the real deal.’
Park Chan-woo was the real thing.
Unlike Kim Byung-han, unlike anyone else—he was the genuine article.
He had never even heard of someone who could use twin axes that well.
No. That wasn’t right.
Lim Chang-yeol corrected his thought.
‘He’s just a fighter through and through.’
He thought five moves ahead.
And not just any five—he chose the most optimal ones.
In that brief span, he narrowed down every possibility and attacked with the best route to kill.
A chill ran down Lim Chang-yeol’s spine.
If he had let his guard down even a little more, he would’ve been sent to meet his ancestors.
‘This guy… a subordinate?’
Kim Byung-han had it wrong.
This guy—he was not the kind to serve under anyone.
Now he understood why Park Chan-woo had looked at him with those curious, exploratory eyes.
‘Alright, I’ll show you.’
Lim Chang-yeol smiled.
His competitive spirit flared.
He hadn’t felt this way in years.
With just one exchange, he could tell.
He erased his smile.
Then, with eyes like a void—cold and bottomless—he got back into position.
“…Let’s really have some fun.”
—
It runs.
The heart races.
The world moves.
And so does he.
Park Chan-woo smiled.
That tightening pressure in his bloodstream.
Sparks flew at his fingertips.
Every clash of cold steel sent shivers through his body.
‘I’d forgotten.’
The despair of never reaching the pinnacle.
Park Chan-woo had once given up on his talent.
After stepping onto the path of magic, he’d forgotten who he truly was.
‘I started as a Barbarian.’
His first class.
Park Chan-woo’s original class was [Barbarian].
He later became a Barbarian Hero, then upgraded to Knight.
He was the indomitable warrior who charged across the barren plains, unafraid of death!
He smashed through all who stood in his way, sweating and roaring through every frenzied battle.
Magic had no place in that life.
He didn’t care about talent.
With no promise of living through tomorrow, he carved out his uncertain future with blood and grit.
Back then, Park Chan-woo was a warrior and a pioneer.
‘This is a warrior’s fight.’
A kind of tension he hadn’t felt in ages.
When counting moves became meaningless.
No flashy techniques. No solemn footwork.
It was a pure brawl.
Park Chan-woo simply enjoyed the fight.
Blood splattered, flesh tore—and he didn’t care.
That was how Barbarians fought.
《Your body is heavy.》
The system warned him.
But Park Chan-woo ignored it.
《Your stamina has reached its limit.》
His breath was ragged, his vision blurred.
Every cell in his body screamed in agony.
His muscles, pushed to the edge, trembled uncontrollably.
His frail and cursed body—
He hated how easily it fatigued, how quickly it hit its limits.
《You must rest immediately.》
《Pushing further may cause a fatal condition.》
But it was fine.
No such curse could stop him.
When had Barbarians ever cared for their own bodies?
And this opponent—this was the first in a long time to make his heart race.
A worthy foe who stirred the blood of a warrior.
Before he realized it, Park Chan-woo had become a Barbarian again.
“…You’re out of your damn mind.”
Grin.
Lim Chang-yeol laughed at Park Chan-woo.
Thirty years of a life lived by the sword.
And yet, in all that time, he had never met someone more insane.
Park Chan-woo was a Berserker.
A madman who was the real deal.
He thought no one could fit both descriptions—until now.
‘This one’s a monster.’
For the first time in his life, he had met one of his own kind.
