Overgeared

‘It is really amazing.’

Muller recognized it instantly. The 3,295 swords that formed a spiral procession centered on him all had the same origin. It could be seen based on the spirituality that each sword had.

Only One God Grid—it was a spirituality created by the temperament of the god of the surface who stood in opposition to the Specter. The weapons other than swords that were mixed in the procession? He wasn’t interested in them. He was a swordsman.

It was said that a Sword Saint could handle even the branches of a tree as a sword and wasn’t bound by weapons, but this was half correct and half incorrect. There were clear limits to what a swordsman could do without a sword. It was just that the enemies who fought Muller didn’t realize the difference.

“Sword Saint Muller... don’t be reckless. You felt frustrated... to the me from a long time ago... to you, who have tasted this and kept quiet... is there a chance of winning?”

The Specter’s cracking voice contained deep pain, loneliness, and resentment. It was reminiscent of a sick person who was about to die. Nevertheless, he was afraid. In the past, he had no choice but to run away.

At that time, all Muller had was a crude iron sword. He was active in the pre-Pagma era. The strongest Sword Saint of all time was born in the middle of the Dark ages, when the skills of the blacksmiths had regressed from generation to generation due to Hexetia, who envied and hated Bultar.

“Friend, let’s rest in peace this time,” Muller whispered while stroking the old sword hanging at his waist. The crude iron sword that had been with him all his life was eventually reborn as a legendary weapon and rose to the rank of a treasured sword, but it was nothing compared to the divine swords in the procession of battle gear.

The Specter was also aware of this fact.

“Beriache...”

The Specter realized that the meeting between Grid and Muller was an unpleasant variable and the Specter’s will moved Beriache’s body. At the center of the huge space, the pretty little girl, who had been standing beside the Specter and quietly attracting the attention of the Overgeared members, suddenly disappeared.

Katz shifted his gaze and chased after the faint scent of blood. It was toward the entrance opposite to where the Overgeared members were standing.

He saw two Sword Saints standing side by side. The Sword Saint of the present era, Kraugel, hurriedly created a sword curtain, while Sword Saint Muller of the previous generation stretched out his hand lazily toward the process of battle gear.

The disappeared Beriache appeared by Muller’s side. As if to make full use of her small body, she appeared from below and thrust her left hand upward. Beriache’s sharp nails brushed against Muller’s chin and cut the skin.

He couldn’t respond?

It happened as people were lamenting after witnessing Muller allowing an attack without even flinching...

‘He didn’t respond. He saw that he didn’t have to avoid it.’

Grid’s face was filled with joy. He had fought a fierce battle with Beriache earlier and he knew Beriache’s tricks. She used flashy linkages, but most of the linkages were based on falsehoods. It was a method that forced movement with an incredibly threatening first strike before stabbing through the gap that was exposed. She might seem like a wild beast, but it was actually very systematic.

However, this collapsed in front of Muller. A swordsman among swordsmen who trained for hundreds of years and swung his sword tens of thousands of times a day. A hero among heroes who never turned away from tough situations and fought lonely battles.

The period of time he wasted when trapping himself in the dimensional gap was enormous, but Muller’s effort and experience were unmatched. Combine this with his talent and it was sublimated into a miracle. It was to the extent that it was a wonder even for Grid, who overshadowed the years.

Discerning the trajectory and intentions of the enemy the moment they moved? It was natural for Muller. Therefore, he had no unnecessary movements. Relying on his Super Sensitivity, Muller moved awkwardly through the Realm of the Absolute. With a very slow feeling, he gripped a sword that was as transparent as frost.

It was a sword with three spiritualities.

One was like the other divine swords and had a spirituality with the will of a God Killer—he felt the will to punish heaven.

Another was the spirituality of the one who made the sword—he felt the desire for the owner of the sword to be safe.

of the sword—he could feel the will to

must be as violent as

must be fatal problems on the path of a sword. There was a relationship, so he would give a bit

power than necessary into the hand holding the sword. He subtly imprinted a gripping method that might help the owner of the sword. It contained a

just grazed Muller’s chin, was cut diagonally. She had already been badly wounded by Grid and lost most of her magical blood to Katz. The being who maintained the status of an Absolute easily allowed a fatal injury. It was a severe price for failing to make a first good move. It was the peak of a ‘late

let out the cry of a tiger. It was as if it wasn’t

vain. She wasn’t good enough to create a gap in Muller, who was using the White Tiger’s

of all the swords, he grabbed Mercedes’s White Tiger

He felt there was no better choice

energy and body are

change from right next to him. At this moment, Muller was an

also recognized it. The

history responded to

a world that had already gone through several destructions, he pointed the sword bestowed by the

stands on the god’s side to protect the surface

that will

of the god’s

“...Um?”

such a distinct presence that even non-player characters could perceive them. It seemed to be perceived

it is

time to pay attention to other things. He put down the White Tiger Sword and reached into the procession of battle gear again. This time, he unexpectedly grabbed Failure. It was the upgraded version of Failure used by Jude, but it was still clearly

was caught on the small blade that sprang up from the back of Failure. Her whole body was lifted up and she was thrown down miserably. It didn’t mean

front of her. He was holding Gujel’s Sword, not Failure, in his hand. His momentum was different from before. The skills and stat boosting buffs

because

was paying attention to due

who borrowed the power

Flinch.

as it was reaching out for Muller’s neck.

and recognized that her head had fallen off. She couldn’t move for a moment. It was only a

swing his sword 10 more times. There was nothing

torn apart. It was fatal damage. She was a mere corpse and was unable to

to humiliate the

and landed on the ground. It was set against the backdrop of Beriache’s body being divided into dozens of pieces. It

members couldn’t

in his heart. He was

(?)—Chreshler was the only one who kept his composure and did his job. He

Come into

died in the No Offspring Tomb was unconditionally resurrected. They had

it is

be worth explaining, but he was embarrassed by Chreshler. The mere fact that he had been caught working with such a coffin

“The tricks end here.”

was before the Divine Wood Coffin touched Beriache’s

of the

Duguen!

flesh, which had been frozen since Beriache’s recreation, started to beat again. It was much more intense than the