I crushed the lances with my free hand and slammed onto the ground.

Gritting my teeth, I tore the jagged fragments from my forearm, a spray of blood following.

A vein of crimson energy emerged from the katana, slithering from my hand toward the injuries on my arm. It burrowed into the open wounds, igniting a sharp, agonising pain throughout my arm.

The crimson veins glowed dim one second and brighter the next as they absorbed the blood from my wounds.

With just a few drops, the blade in my hand screeched violently, its edge turning sharper than ever before.

The blade became so thin that I couldn't even see it when placed vertically before my eyes, yet the metal remained as sturdy as ever.

Ding…

"The Host has suffered an external wound!

Curse of Binding is activated!

Curse of Binding: Shinku no Sabi is bound to the Host until the Host's wounds are fully closed. During the binding, the sword will continuously absorb the Host's blood."

"Bastard… you're enjoying your master's blood, huh?" I muttered, feeling my arm turn pale and limp.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Grendel had already grabbed the massive machete again. His eyes narrowed, veins bulging across his body in raw fury.

"Graaaaaaa!!!!! Human!!!!!! How dare you cut my tusk!!!" Grendel scowled, launching a barrage of attacks at me.

I grabbed the sword with both hands—my right arm was nothing but dead weight since I couldn't put any strength into it.

As I struggled to defend against Grendel's relentless storm of attacks, an old, bittersweet memory of my sword training under Nymeria flashed through my mind.

---

"Master, it's unfair. You are physically stronger than me, and your attack carries more weight," I whined, falling onto my back.

Thud!

"Jerk! Is that something you'd say to a lady!?" Nymeria hissed, striking my head with an angry pout.

"Ouch! But I'm being honest," I protested, rubbing my head. "Your attacks carry so much weight that no matter how much strength I put into blocking them, my sword gets pushed aside by the sheer impact."

"Then why bother blocking them?" Nymeria asked, her arms folded.

I quickly rose to a sitting position, knowing an important lesson was about to come.

Once I had settled myself and focused on her lecture, she began, "When facing an opponent whose physical strength surpasses yours, meeting their attack head-on is nothing but hollow bravery and foolish pride. A blade is not meant to clash blindly. Swing it with grace, follow the flow of your opponent's strike, and with the slightest guidance, turn their overwhelming force into a missed blow."

---

"Follow the flow of your opponent's strike, huh?" I murmured, locking my eyes onto the descending machete.

Just as the machete drew close, instead of clashing it head-on with my katana, I let it gently brush past the blade, subtly changing its trajectory.

A frown appeared on Grendel's already enraged face as he launched another attack.

However, no matter how much strength he poured into his strikes, each time I redirected the trajectory, letting the machete crash uselessly into the ground.

While he grew increasingly frustrated, unable to land a single hit even after throwing more than a hundred attacks at me, I suddenly released a lungful of yin energy.

"Breath of the Grave!"

A thick sheet of ice formed over Grendel's body—but in the very next instant, it began to crack and break apart as well.

From the past half an hour since the battle began, I was waiting for this moment to freeze Grendel when his guard was down.

Pseudo Sword Aura materialised on my sword as I lunged forward, raising the blade high.

Just as I drew closer to Grendel, once again a thick wall ascended from the ground between us.

However, my pace wasn't slowed; instead, I ran even faster, moving past Grendel's frozen body and charging toward the Goblin Shamin—my target from the very beginning.

The Shamin, who had been supporting Grendel from the sidelines and flashing me a mocking smile each time he blocked or injured me, suddenly trembled in horror as he realised I was coming for him.

The mace in his hand glowed, and in an instant, dozens of thick pillars of earth rose upward from the ground.

Meanwhile, Grendel freed himself and bolted toward me as well, finally realising my true target.

"Die, you fucking shamin!" I shouted, swinging my blade in a horizontal arc from the other side of the wall.

"Blood Debt!"

A violent crimson arc of blood shot forward from the swing of my blade.

Boooooommmm!!!

A thunderous explosion roared through the courtroom, a mist of blood bursting outward and shrouding the space as the cave's walls and ceiling shook violently.

When the dust settled, I stood there, breathing heavily, Shinku no Sabi in my hand looking nothing more than a crappy, rusty sword. The arm that held it had turned into a grotesque sight—devoid of blood, the skin clinging tightly to the bones.

However, the real sight to behold lay before me.

All twelve walls the Goblin Shamin had created to protect himself were shredded into nothingness, and on the other side of the ruined barricade, only the Shamin's lower half remained—still standing, blood and organs flowing out freely.

Ding…

"Curse of Binding is deactivated!"

"Y-you damn human!!!!!" Grendel roared, his wide eyes turning grey as blood rushed to his head.

Before I could take a defensive position, a bone-breaking punch landed on my side, sending me flying toward the raised platform where Grendel's throne stood.

My battered body crashed into the throne, unknowingly placing me upon the seat that belonged to Grendel.

The punch had damaged my internal organs, causing a mouthful of blood to pour out.

Thankfully, the Curse of Binding wasn't activated since the injury was internal.

"Grrrr!!! How dare you sit on my throne, human!!!!" Grendel growled, his remaining tusk chattering with murderous fury.

An exhausted chuckle escaped my mouth, my eyes piercing sharply from behind the curtain of my hair.

"Moron, you're the one who threw me here," I murmured, my breath coming out in short, heavy gasps. "Still, I like this place!"

Agitated by my constant mockery, that final statement snapped something inside Grendel. His grip tightened around the machete so hard that the metallic handle bent under his sheer strength. His sense of awareness dulled as his very soul screamed for one thing alone—kill that damn human.

That was exactly what I had been targeting from the beginning. For the maximum success rate of my new skill, the messier the opponent's mind, the better.

Just as he bolted toward me at blinding speed, I lazily rose from the throne and lifted my katana, its blade pointing at the incoming calamity.

A spiral of vibrant yang and dark yin energy coiled around the blade, materialising into something sinister and terrifying.

"Blade of Death."

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An abyssal black soul materialised around the tip of the katana. Though its face couldn't be seen clearly, it carried an expression of raw, unfiltered anger—one that would make even the mightiest warrior tremble in its presence.

Echoing a horrifying screech, the soul shot forward toward Grendel.

Blinded by rage, Grendel brought his machete down, attempting to destroy what he assumed was a mere nuisance. However, the angry soul passed straight through the machete and then through his body—ripping out his very soul, quite literally.

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