30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 67

The Sword Spear Sect.

A common fixture in martial arts novels, often as one of the Nine Great Sects that specialize in swift sword techniques.

For Ihan, who once spent countless shifts indulging in martial arts stories, the name had its share of memories.

The reason it stuck in his mind?

“Shooting, piercing the sun... Cool, even if it’s fictional.”

Techniques that claimed to hit, drop, or even pierce the sun: the Sun-Shot Sword Technique, Sun-Fall Blade Technique, and Sun-Piercing Spear Technique.

The names alone were unforgettable. But the more he read about the Sword Spear Sect, the more often he found himself disappointed.

“Just swinging fast... how exactly do they expect to bring down the sun?”

Merely speeding up their swings, with no real substance, just to cut down an enemy—it was underwhelming, to say the least. He’d wondered if they should rename the technique from Shooting the Sun to Shooting People.

“If they’re so bent on their identity, they could at least make an attempt to throw a spear toward the sky. These fancy names...”

But that was easier said than done. How could a human even think of touching the sun?

At the time, he had laughed it off as the kind of strange thought that only came to him when he was sleepy.

But now—

I didn’t think I’d actually attempt it.

When an idea goes from mere imagination to reality, it ceases to be imaginary.

Right now, Ihan was set on recreating the Sun Piercing.

In the most direct way possible, primitive as it was.

“Ughhh!”

“Put a bit more effort into it, slave.”

“I told you, I’m not a slave!”

“Then do a better job.”

“Argh!!”

A mage cried out as if screaming in agony.

Oddwal Bernard,

A professor in the Department of Magic, was the one levitating the wooden spear in the air.

Suspending a 600-kilogram mass in midair was indeed an absurd and unreal sight. It explained why mages alone could be called the terrors of the battlefield.

But, no matter how powerful one’s telekinesis, limits still existed.

Mana wasn’t infinite, and just holding that weight in place required every ounce of concentration. Ihan, however, paid no mind to Oddwal’s struggle and asked calmly:

“You’ve minimized air resistance, right?”

“I-I’ve inscribed the formula! And I added three enchantments!”

“Only three?”

“!!?”

“Pathetic.”

“H-how could you expect more than five enchantments in just ten days?!”

Ihan’s demands had been steep.

He’d asked for reinforced durability, minimized air resistance, increased piercing power, added fire magic—the works.

He was essentially asking for a full-fledged siege weapon, just like that.

Even the best of the kingdom’s mages would likely shake their heads at such a command.

After all, there was a limit to the number of enchantments that could be placed on an object. To enchant three spells in ten days was a feat that reflected Oddwal’s extraordinary skill and the sheer difficulty of the task.

Proof of his toil was etched on his already weathered face; wrinkles and liver spots had bloomed on the young professor, leaving him looking closer to fifty than his actual twenty.

And yet—

“Well, if this is the best you can do, I suppose I have no choice. Useless slave.”

“!?!!”

“Quiet down, if you break my concentration, you’re next.”

“You...!”

Ignoring the mage’s complaints, Ihan focused all his attention on a single target.

Using what I have.

Ihan wasn’t the kind to cling foolishly to what he couldn’t obtain. So, he just worked to get the best possible results with what he had.

What he had was a projectile.

He’d stuffed it with large quantities of gunpowder extracted from the princess herself and loaded it into a ballista.

Of course, even the kingdom lacked a launch platform capable of propelling such a massive projectile skyward, so whether this would succeed was anyone’s guess.

But Ihan believed.

In his “strong body.”

Ihan would now become the hammer that launched this colossal projectile.

Although he was confident in most tasks, he wouldn’t dare kick something as heavy as this. It would break more than it would launch, but now it was feasible.

With the telekinetic coating applied, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

I’ll push it!

This wasn’t a strike to break or destroy; it was a strike to push—a technique using pushing force.

While typically performed with the palm, Ihan used his foot.

With five times the strength of his arms and far more destructive force, he tested the limits of his strength.

Crack!

The sound was enough to make one think his leg had shattered, but he ignored it.

Thump!

Combining the concentrated power in his foot with centrifugal force, along with a humanly impossible intuition, his kick—

Thoom-!!

—launched the massive projectile.

Of course—

Splat!

—he paid the price, with his right leg bursting open.

But sacrifices were inevitable in sending off such a large projectile.

As his leg became soaked in blood, Ihan smiled, not out of some twisted enjoyment of pain.

Whooosh!

“It’s flying well.”

He smiled because he was more than satisfied with the result.

Thoom-!

The ballista projectile shot upward like a spear, soaring intact toward the dark clouds and finally—

Splat!

Crack!

[[----!!]]

Piercing directly through the giant’s wrist, his spear—

Boom.

—exploded on cue, perfectly timed with Ihan’s playful taunt.

Filled with every ounce of his strength, the spear alone had been powerful enough to act as a massive bomb.

Additionally—

Fwoosh!

The vast amount of gunpowder within the spear ignited, setting the giant’s hand ablaze.

Sun-Piercing Spear.

With Ihan’s unique interpretation, his spear had struck down a monster in place of the sun.

“What...the...?”

“Oh, my god.”

Those watching from the ground were at a loss for words.

Legends spoke of giants and demons, claiming that the Knight-King and the Lion-King had cleaved such monsters in half in a single strike. But legend was just that, and few believed it to be more than myth.

But now—

Were those legends real?

Snap.

Squirm...

GR-RR-!

—it was still being summoned.

That crazy instructor was right!