They had always known.
The power of Level 8 heroes was truly transcendent.
But…
‘Knowing is one thing. Seeing it for yourself is entirely different…’
CRACK!
BOOM!
The ground beneath their feet began to shatter, and the ceiling was on the verge of total collapse. No, over 90% of it had already crumbled, and it wouldn’t have been surprising if the entire structure gave way at any moment.
The realization that this was all caused by the mere clash of two people was utterly staggering.
Was this truly power wielded by humans?
“Hmm, I must say, I’ve got a good eye for strong opponents. You’re quite formidable. To think you managed to block my Thunder Drop.”
“What kind of childish name is that?”
“What? Isn’t it a good name?”
“Not really…”
“Hmm…”
Despite having caused what could only be described as a man-made natural disaster, the two knights paid little attention to the chaos around them. Their weapons remained locked in an unyielding stalemate.
That’s what happens when there’s no trust between combatants.
“Shouldn’t we stop this? It seems like our goals are somewhat aligned,” Ihan suggested.
“I see your point, but I don’t see why I should look favorably upon someone who threw the first punch.”
“…Fair enough.”
Ihan was right. Regardless of the reason, Maximus had been the one to display hostility first. Naturally, Ihan had counterattacked, meeting force with force. If Maximus hadn’t been able to defend himself, things might have turned out poorly for him.
“However, I have an explanation! Ihan—or was it Rihan?—your aura was so ferocious that I honestly mistook you for a monster. Surely you can show some understanding in light of that?”
“It’s true I’ve been a bit on edge lately… Wait, my name isn’t Rihan.”
“Ah, my apologies, Lihan.”
“…I’m going to lose my mind.”
There’s nothing more frustrating than dealing with someone who isn’t malicious but simply doesn’t make sense.
Maximus exuded no ill will. Instead, there was only a radiant innocence, coupled with a playful competitiveness that gleamed like freshly fallen snow.
But that didn’t mean the situation wasn’t infuriating.
Throb!
‘Damn, this hurts.’
The arm Ihan had used to clash with Maximus, as well as his shoulder, ached sharply. He frowned, unable to ignore the lingering pain.
‘A human gorilla… no, more like King Kong!’
Ihan grimaced.
Maximus.
The first time Ihan had seen him was during the mid-term evaluations at the academy. They had briefly crossed paths when Maximus accompanied the Duke of Lionel.
Even then, Ihan had thought to himself:
‘What kind of freak is this guy?’
The sheer threat Maximus radiated was overwhelming.
Though Ihan himself had gone through countless hardships and growth since that day, now that he was standing directly against Maximus, the knight’s immense strength was even more apparent.
‘What an incredible body.’
Even with just a glance, it was obvious how massive and finely tuned his physique was. It was the kind of figure that seemed sculpted by a master artisan—a perfect balance of form and function.
As someone who prided himself on physical strength, Ihan understood the truth:
No amount of effort alone could achieve such a body. One had to be born with a fundamentally different foundation.
‘He’s like a walking reminder of how unfair life can be.’
To someone like Ihan, whose body could be considered average at best, Maximus was a figure to be envied. Yet, this envy didn’t spark bitterness or inferiority—only admiration and a faint determination to push himself further.
Still…
‘He’s not someone I’d want to be friends with.’
Even back then, Ihan had known he wanted to keep his distance.
And now? Just look at him.
“You must understand my position. After fighting weaklings for so long, finding such a strong opponent was exciting. I couldn’t help myself and impulsively attacked. Rest assured, it won’t happen again. Hahaha!”
Was that supposed to be an apology or a provocation?
If Maximus had many enemies, Ihan suspected it was entirely his own fault. He seemed to be the type who could effortlessly earn grudges wherever he went.
Ihan sighed.
“…Let’s just stop this.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m in a hurry, and fighting you isn’t going to help. Let’s just go our separate ways.”
“Hmm, how cold.”
Maximus lowered his axe, though his expression betrayed clear disappointment.
‘He’s like a cultist… definitely someone to avoid.’
And yet, before Ihan could distance himself, Maximus spoke again.
“Still, I should make amends. How unbecoming of a northern knight to settle things with mere words. Hmm… Ah, I’ve got it!”
BOOM!
“I’ll take care of them.”
Even as Maximus finished speaking, shadows began to rise around them.
Whoosh!
Figures cloaked in black emerged, radiating lethal intent. As soon as they saw Ihan, they hurled daggers with deadly precision. The sheer number of blades cutting through the air was staggering.
But—
SWOOSH!
“How dare assassins target a noble knight!”
Maximus swung his sword with such force that a fierce gust scattered the daggers mid-air, sending them clattering harmlessly to the ground. It wasn’t some elaborate technique—just the sheer might of a single swing.
The display of raw power was astonishing.
BAM!
Maximus launched himself forward, leaving deep impressions in the ground as his massive frame moved with startling speed. For an instant, he disappeared from view.
Slash!
“One down.”
“!!!”
When Maximus reappeared, one of the black-clad assassins had already been bisected at the waist. The speed and precision of his strike were beyond comprehension.
What was even more remarkable—
“This sword is bothersome.”
Crack.
The blade Maximus had been using, presumably picked up from the tunnel floor, was already on the verge of breaking under the strain of his overwhelming strength.
“Hmm, it’s more convenient to fight barehanded.”
“Don’t underestimate us!”
Ignoring the assassins’ outrage, Maximus discarded the sword and charged in with his bare hands.
“Underestimate? Me?”
CRUNCH!
Maximus brought his hands together in a thunderous clap around an assassin’s head, crushing it like clay.
Was it even possible for a human skull to be crushed so easily?
“…Gulp.”
The remaining assassins instinctively took a step back, their primal survival instincts overriding their orders.
But Maximus’s fierce gaze didn’t waver.
“I won’t let a single one of you escape.”
Whoosh!
Once again, his massive frame blurred as he surged forward, moving with the fluidity of water. His speed and agility were so unnatural that it defied the laws of physics.
In the next instant—
SPLAT!
Maximus’s punch exploded another assassin’s head, while yet another was torn apart at the torso.
The black-clad figures were utterly annihilated by a single man.
For them, this was a fearsome experience they would never endure again.
"Is that even human?"
Ihan was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t shake the thought that this was what might happen if someone taught martial arts and combat techniques to a gorilla.
‘That acceleration must be well over 100…’
It was as if Maximus embodied Step of the Flickering God naturally. Ihan had to execute the technique deliberately, as a skill, but Maximus seemed to have it as a built-in passive ability.
"What the hell kind of unfair monster is this supposed to be? How is someone like me, an average talent, supposed to survive…?"
"…"
"…Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh, no reason, just…"
Derrick stifled his thoughts.
‘Isn’t this exactly how everyone else feels about you, Instructor…?’
Of course, Derrick couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud. He had no desire to end up like those assassins, split in half.
Thud.
"Hmm, that was… underwhelming."
It took Maximus less than ten minutes to dispatch over thirty opponents, leaving behind a heap of severed heads and bodies.
Some might assume they had been weaklings for him to defeat them so easily, but according to a status-checker’s evaluation, every single one of them was Level 5—elite knight-level.
For Maximus to annihilate such foes so effortlessly only reinforced the sheer dominance of his strength.
Yet, his expression showed no satisfaction. Only disappointment.
To him, it had been a hollow battle.
"Fights are supposed to be bloody and intense…"
It was a disturbingly psychotic statement, but this was the mindset of the northern warriors. To die in battle was considered honorable, while living through cowardice or avoiding confrontation was seen as the ultimate disgrace.
‘A pity. Even with such a worthy opponent in front of me, it would be unseemly to press the matter under these circumstances.’
Maximus glanced toward the young Pendragon knight.
When they had first met, Ihan’s presence had been formidable, but now, his aura had grown even larger—vastly greater than the day before.
‘Ah, I see. He’s overcome a Trial of Strife.’
In the north, warriors revered strife because they believed that fighting and defeating stronger opponents led to growth. These intense challenges were referred to as trials.
Those who survived such trials emerged stronger, accumulating what the northerners called "karma" through their victories.
But surviving such battles was no easy feat. Even the bravest warriors couldn’t always guarantee they’d walk away alive.
For Maximus, this realization only deepened his appreciation for Ihan.
‘An extraordinary man.’
Here stood a champion who had seized victory.
To Maximus, Ihan wasn’t just a rival—he was a gateway to greater heights.
‘I want to fight him. Truly fight him…!’
What had once been a faint spark of competitive spirit had now grown into a burning desire. If Maximus could defeat Ihan, he was sure he could ascend to an even higher level of strength.
This relentless pursuit of growth, not just talent, was what had earned Maximus the title of the strongest warrior in the north.
As his longing for combat boiled over—
[[Krrrrr!!!!]]
A massive interruption arrived.
The Mother Worm, a colossal sandworm stretching over 120 meters, let out an enraged roar as it charged toward them.
"Not bad for an oversized earthworm," Maximus remarked casually, showing little interest in the creature’s size or fury. To him, such monsters were common in the north.
What truly caught his attention was—
"That figure over there. They seem quite enthusiastic about you. Someone you know?"
"Hmm, yeah. Former coworker."
"Oh-ho."
On the Mother Worm’s head stood an assassin clad in black—Number Four. His presence was enough to make it clear that he was of higher rank than the others they had faced earlier.
"That former coworker of yours… mind if I take him?"
Maximus’s tone suggested he was asking for permission, but his intent was anything but.
"And if I say no?"
"Hahaha…"
"…"
His laughter was less a question and more a declaration.
Even without words, Maximus’s intent was clear, and Ihan let out a dry chuckle as he shook his head.
At that moment—
BOOM!
Neither knight hesitated. Their fists collided, and the sound of the impact echoed through the cavern.
From the moment trust had been severed, they were no longer allies but enemies.
And the Mother Worm? Number Four?
Well…
Calculating those details was beyond what knights like them were ever meant to do.
Knighthood wasn’t a job for the overly reasonable.