The Great Mage Returns After 4000 Years Chapter Season 2 676

Season 2 Chapter 676

Translator: Alpha0210

He reached out without cloaking his hand in Thunder, channeling only raw physical force. The Half King's durability was likely the greatest in the entire Unified World, so there was no need to hold back.

Yet his outstretched hand failed to graze even a single strand of the Half King's hair before it was deflected away. It was as though he had struck an invisible wall that bounced him back, but the truth was that the Half King had neutralized the attack at a speed too fast for the naked eye to follow.

Instead of hostility, the Half King spoke with a bewildered expression.

"What are you doing all of a sudden?"

"Let hit you."

"What?"

Residue offered no further reply, allocating every ounce of his ntal processing power to the problem of the Half King. How to break through that ironclad defense and land a single blow.

Even as his mind churned, his body never stopped. He reached out again, this ti with both hands. He varied his movents so the feints and true strikes were indistinguishable. From the opponent's perspective, exquisitely unpredictable, impossible to guess where the real attack would co from......

And yet the Half King stood in place, not moving a single step, and blocked every one of Residue's attacks. In that split second, Residue had launched a total of forty-nine strikes, and she had read through every last one.

Crack!

The final exchange carried considerable force, and Residue's body skidded backward.

"......"

Did she slap him with her palm? Residue felt his abdon.

She could have aid for his solar plexus or dead center of his chest, but it seed she had deliberately struck his abdon. Was even this a courtesy born of the Half King's temperant? Whatever the case, being pitied was never pleasant, and the corner of Residue's mouth twisted.

But now was not the ti to let pride get in the way.

It occurred to him that Palm Technique might very well be the Half King's primary fighting style. No matter how thoroughly versed a being was in every martial art, spell, sorcery, divine power, and supernatural ability, it was impossible to perfectly apply all of them in combat. Trying to force them all at once would kill any synergy and weaken one's overall fighting strength.

So the Half King must have discovered, through countless battles, the thod of attack best suited to her nature. And there was a high probability that it was Palm Technique.

'As I thought, bare hands won't cut it.'

Then again, using One Step Through Ti and Space didn't seem like it would yield much better results.

Left with no choice, Residue drew Piercing Thunder once more. A wave of searing heat spread from his palms. Invisible to the eye, flas now wreathed both his hands. Those flas burned silently, beginning to drastically reshape the tal weapon he held.

The very first form he had ever crafted: a club.

But the length seed too short for this fight, so he extended it roughly twofold. The girth shrank sowhat, but this would be more effective.

Residue decided to call this form the Thunder Staff.

He gave it a light squeeze and felt it lock firmly into his grip. This form really did have the best feel, after all. Excellent balance between offense and defense, and perfectly suited for close-quarters combat.

Crackle!

Unlike when he had first crafted it, Residue could now channel Thunder into this club. The result was a weapon dozens of tis superior to anything most Absolutes paraded around pretending was a Soul Weapon.

"Hup!"

Closing the distance once more, Residue swung the Thunder Staff.

A probing strike, first.

Maintaining a gap of roughly three paces, he unleashed a rapid chain of thrusts. But the speed at which he extended, retracted, and extended again was so blinding that at a glance, it looked as though dozens of snakes had burst from his shoulder, jaws gaping wide, lunging to sink their fangs into the opponent.

Despite this razor-sharp display, the tip of the club was blunt. Even a successful hit would not inflict a fatal wound. That was fine. This engagent was never ant to injure or kill.

"......"

The Half King closed her mouth as well. Perhaps she realized that no amount of questioning would yield an answer. Her garnts fluttered as she shifted her focus from conversation to combat.

What followed was the Half King rendering Residue's chain of thrusts entirely void. Dodging, deflecting, parrying...... She did not even bother to counterattack this ti, yet by the ti his offensive ended, Residue's body had been pushed back half a step.

Clear proof that he had been overpowered by sheer presence alone, and it left him speechless. The longer they clashed, the more absurdly monstrous she seed.

To begin with, the difference in build ant Residue's reach was at minimum one-and-a-half to two tis longer than the Half King's. On top of that, drawing the Thunder Staff had doubled that length again.

Yet the Half King stood her ground without moving, and with those absurdly short limbs, fought as if she possessed a greater reach than the ard Residue. This ant the Half King's overall physical capabilities were at least three tis above his own.

How could he breach that ironclad defense? Should he change the weapon to a different form? Or should he charge in with genuine killing intent?

Strangely, he did not believe that mixing in killing intent would let him break through the Half King. Even though it would multiply his offensive power many tis over. Of course, it was a baseless hunch and reality might differ, but...... Residue chose to trust this instinct for now.

'In that case......'

His head began to overheat. His own breath felt scalding. His vision blurred into a haze, and the rolling thunder that always filled his ears whenever he wielded Thunder cut off abruptly. Sothing like tinnitus seed to ring...... or perhaps the opposite, as though he were standing on the surface of an endlessly still lake.

The Half King's movents appeared to slow. Had he suddenly entered the Minimal Ti Zone? No, this felt slightly different.

Amid that uncertain sensation, his gaze drifted to the Thunder Staff.

'It's long.'

Residue began shortening the Thunder Staff on impulse. Precisely in half, as if snapped clean, then halved again, then halved once more.......

What had been a long, staff-like weapon shrank into a very short club, closer in size to a riding crop.

"Is it still long?"

An unexpected answer ca back.

"Still long."

"......"

It was the Half King.

She, too, wore a half-dazed expression, and Residue sohow understood what she was thinking. He nodded.

"But if I shorten it any further, I won't be able to wield it. That is my current level."

"......"

"It goes without saying, but let restate my purpose. I want to smack you on the head."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you after I hit you."

"Then can you at least tell why it has to be after?"

"Because it wouldn't be cool if I said it now."

The Half King looked puzzled, but asked nothing further and gave a willing nod.

"Fine."

"Half King."

"What."

"How about we spar once, without malice or hostility?"

At this, the Half King hesitated briefly, but did not deliberate long before nodding once more.

And so the exchange resud.

Residue closed the distance to the Half King in one large stride. The Half King extended a single strike. It was the first offensive move she had shown since the fight began.

That fact alone forced Residue back three full steps, and the Half King pressed after him relentlessly. Shoulder, thigh, flank; blows that barely missed his vitals struck true and began stacking dull layers of pain.

Residue realized it had been the right call to observe, however briefly, the exchange between the Half King and Agolet before joining in.

Had he not committed that fight to mory, he would have allowed twice as many of the Half King's attacks to land.

After taking a sustained beating, he gradually grew accustod to the Half King's offense.

Using the shortened Thunder Staff, Residue deflected attacks with a fluid touch, just as the Half King had done. anwhile, he kept his legs moving forward at every opening, and the three-pace gap shrank to a single step.

But from that point on, it beca far harder.

The Half King's offense was unchanged, yet unlike before, he could neither deflect nor dodge. They say a typhoon is calst at its center, but the Half King was the opposite. Attacks of incomparably greater weight ca crashing down like a tidal wave.

One step.

This distance, this space, was the Half King's domain.

That realization ca alongside a desperate attempt to twist away, but Residue failed to properly evade even a tenth of the Half King's attacks. The remaining nine-tenths hamred his entire body. Devoid of killing intent, perhaps, but certainly not devoid of force.

Before long, Residue's body was drenched in blood, and every ti he reached out, it felt as though a sliver of his life was being shaved away.

And within that storm......

He suddenly understood why the Half King had been able to perfectly evade his surprise use of One Step Through Ti and Space. One step. The space within a single step was the Half King's domain. She could counter every attack that passed through it.

This was not simply a matter of speed. Even if One Step Through Ti and Space were several tis faster, it still would not work against the Half King.

One-hit-kill attacks did not work on the being before him. As long as the Half King perceived an attack, she could counter anything...... which was precisely why the Twelve Void Lords' betrayal had dealt her such a devastating blow. She had not suspected, not in the slightest, that they would attack.

In other words, against the Half King, an opponent's attack was not a question of speed or power, but simply of whether she perceived it or not.......

Which ant that attacking from long range was actually the worst possible strategy against her. What a fool he had been, swinging that elongated staff trying to pressure her without understanding even that.

'If I want to seize the advantage, I need to close the distance instead.'

Down to a single step. Into the Half King's domain. Of course, entering it would not weaken her offense; if anything, it would intensify several tis over. But there was no other viable option.

An all-out brawl at point-blank range was the only path to breaking through.

That was his conclusion, and so Residue did exactly that.

.......

.......

How long had it been?

How long had they fought?

One step.

That single step had still not been closed.

His vision was stained red, and sensation had fled from most of his body. He could no longer tell whether he was attacking or rely flailing.

What was the problem? What was the solution?

Residue moved with a ferocity he had never before shown, and his mind raced no less furiously, yet neither the problem nor the solution revealed itself clearly.

Then, abruptly, the Half King spoke.

"Mixing feints and true strikes will not work against ."

"......"

"Do not try to outmaneuver . I am the culmination of the strong, the most complete transcendent being, master of the Four Knights and master of the Twelve Void Lords, an existence forged as the adversary of your Rulers. Every martial discipline and thod of combat that exists beneath the heavens is stored within my mind."

He did not fully grasp her aning.

But he could tell that the Half King was giving him advice. When he lifted his head to look up at her, the Half King, too, wore a half-dazed expression. It seed Residue was not the only one gaining sothing from this fight.

"You're telling to face you head-on and nothing else?"

When Residue asked in a slurred voice, the Half King nodded.

He followed that counsel.

He discarded all feints. He poured sincerity into every strike, holding nothing back, giving everything he had.

Lightning.

Tearing apart into tens, hundreds, thousands of branches, crashing down like a storm of lightning...... and then, at so point.

"......"

"......"

Both sides stopped at the sa ti.

Residue stared blankly at his own hand.

Could that even be called landing a hit? It felt more like his fist had simply tapped the crown of her head.

Well, what did it matter.

"...That was insanely hard."

With no strength left to move, Residue collapsed right where he stood and sprawled flat on his back.

"......"

The red tint drained from his vision as it gradually returned to normal, and Residue took in the sky made of machinery. Steel beams and cables interlaced like a spider's web, giving the impression of a jungle wrought from steel.

It was the sky of a future city. Beneath it, all manner of creatively shaped flying craft soared.......

"I fail to see what aning this holds."

The Half King's voice reached him.

Residue had no energy left to reply and could only glance her way.

After a brief hesitation, the Half King walked over and sat down carefully beside him.

"Can you tell now? The reason you wanted to hit my head."

Residue rolled his tongue around his mouth, taking stock. His teeth were regenerating, and the torn inside of his cheek was more or less nding.

It seed he could manage to speak without too much trouble, so he opened his mouth.

"I saw a trendous fool."

"...What?"

"This pigheaded fool had a mind set in stone, and no matter what anyone said, she never truly listened. She simply believed everything her parents told her as if it were the absolute truth of the world and followed it blindly. On top of that, she was so overwhelmingly powerful that no one could match her. That was the misfortune of it."

After a brief silence, the Half King asked.

"...Why is being overwhelmingly powerful a misfortune?"

"Because there's no one to give her a good smack."

"What do you an by that?"

"Your Majesty, when it cos to advice, the mindset of the one receiving it matters far more than the one giving it. You can nag soone acting like an idiot until you're blue in the face, but if they have no intention of listening, you might as well be talking to a wall. So then, how do you open the eyes of a fool who refuses to hear?"

By this point, the Half King asked in return, looking slightly stupefied.

"Hit them?"

"Now we're getting sowhere."

"...No. I don't understand. I cannot grasp what you an. What significance does such a simple act of violence hold?"

The Half King looked deeply confused, so Residue had no choice but to explain a bit more kindly.

"What do you think about the act of striking soone on the head?"

"...I consider it a disrespectful act."

"Exactly. Extrely disrespectful and insulting. If so worthless nobody pulled that kind of stunt, I would drop a bolt of lightning on his head."

"......"

"But if the man you just sent flying, the White Knight Agolet, or soone like Yang In-hyun, the Everlasting Plum Sword, who isn't here right now, did the sa thing, I would be taken aback and think."

"Think what?"

"'Did I make so mistake without realizing it?'"

Residue looked at the Half King and continued.

"It ans I would look for the cause of the problem in myself, not in the other person. Do you understand what that signifies? It is a thought that only arises because I acknowledge both of them as my equals. There is an underlying trust that n of Agolet's and Yang In-hyun's caliber would not act without reason."

The Half King's eyes began to slowly change.

"That is the reason for striking soone on the head. A relationship where you can smack the other person without warning. A bond where, when one of you is acting like a fool, the other can step in without hesitation. Would your retainers ever do that to you?"

"No."

"Then would your enemies?"

"......"

"No, they wouldn't either. Neither of them would. Listen well, you fool. People sotis do idiotic things, and they cannot recognize it themselves. When that happens, soone close to them needs to personally crack them across the back of the head to snap them out of it. But if the one doing the hitting is weaker than them, or a stranger, or soone they despise, it just becos a provocation, doesn't it? And even if it isn't taken that way, they certainly won't take it to heart."

"......"

"So how do you justify that disrespectful act? For people like us, there's a simple answer. ...In the end, when it cos to acknowledging another, the ultimate asuring stick is strength. Look at , Half King. I personally entered your domain, punched through the tidal wave of your attacks, and in the end, landed a blow on your head. The words I speak now, and the words I spoke before. Do they carry the sa weight?"

Residue shook his head.

"They don't. See? Already, even though I'm spouting this half-sophistry, half-nonsense, you're paying attention to so degree."

The Half King fell silent as if at a loss for words, then asked.

"You fought just for sothing like that? Dying over and over in the process?"

"I decide what's worth it. If anything, you have a tendency to undervalue yourself."

"...Then I understand even less. If you hold the Half King in such high regard, why did you refuse my proposal?"

Residue had a premonition that the mont he finished this nonsense that wasn't quite nonsense, he would lose consciousness on the spot. Even now, exhaustion was catching up belatedly, and his eyelids felt as heavy as lead.

And yet, through all of that, the Half King still wore a muddled look of incomprehension, which brought both irritation and weariness rising in him at once.

"...Your Majesty, I have not the slightest intention of becoming your parent. In our current situation, that kind of relationship would do neither of us any good. So consider this my final recomndation."

"......"

"No hierarchy. On equal terms, with the understanding that either of us can smack the other at any ti."

In a consciousness half-fading, Residue finished.

"Won't you walk this thorny path together with ?"

*****

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