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Translator: penny
Chapter: 177
Chapter Title: Hassan Learning Aura #3
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While I was imagining overpowering the wicked Flame Witch Elfride with sheer force,
*Shing.* *Clank.*
Antiope, who had been watching my training from a distance, stood up and drew the spear strapped to her back.
It was fairly short for a spear, more like a short spear. I recalled that throwing spears were usually about that length, meant more for hurling than thrusting.
Sure enough, Antiope crouched low, glancing around as if ready to hurl it at any moment.
"There's a heretic nearby."
Her words made Hippolyte and me exchange glances, as if we'd heard something utterly unexpected.
A brief silence followed.
Hippolyte was the first among us to speak.
"This is the area I'm in charge of patrolling during my walks. No heretic would show up here. You must be mistaken, Antiope."
It really didn't seem likely that a heretic would wander the paths Hippolyte strolled. If one did, it'd have to be someone completely out of their mind or insanely bold.
But then again, in this barbaric world, who but a madman or a lunatic would follow a cult religion? Paranoi was a prime example.
Paranoi was the weirdest guy I knew. Had he shown up nearby?
As I scanned the surroundings tensely for any nymphs,
Hippolyte added,
"That's why you're getting excited about fighting too, right, Samaritan? You can't rest until you've beaten a heretic senseless before slicing them up."
She seemed to mistake my tension for battle excitement. In her mind, I probably came off as some brute who only knew fighting, so it wasn't surprising.
But Antiope stood firm.
"Sis, I spent three years rolling in the dirt hunting heretics. You think I can't detect a whiff of Pluto's magic?"
As part of the Temple Knights who clashed first with Pluto's heretics, she was an expert in heretic extermination.
Like a pest control specialist.
"It's nearby. And it's a big one. Maybe even a High Priest or Commander. Are they scouting me?"
Coming from a pest control specialist, it was credible.
I thought of the mysterious heretic leader. Maybe it was that Hell Duke or whatever Paranoi mentioned.
"No way."
But Hippolyte was convinced there were no heretics around. The warrior woman even reached a finger toward my nape.
"Look here, this necklace. It's the Star of Kallan. An artifact infused with Pluto's power. Antiope, you might be mistaking the evil aura leaking from this."
"The Star of Kallan? That's around his neck? Why?"
The spearwoman's eyes turned to my neck.
Staring at me with spear in hand was fucking terrifying. No different from having a loaded gun barrel pointed my way.
One wrong trigger pull, and I'd have two holes in me.
"That's really the Star of Kallan. I heard Necromancer Koma stole it. Why do you have it?"
The gentle ear-cleaning Antiope from moments ago vanished, replaced by a terrifying interrogator.
"Are you a heretic too? Are you Necromancer Koma?"
"Antiope, no way. This guy's a warrior who's exterminated Pluto heretics multiple times. He beat Koma and took it as spoils."
"But only necromancers can use it."
Hippolyte defended me vigorously, and it seemed to work somewhat. Still, Antiope eyed me suspiciously.
"Was I too sensitive?"
"Yeah, you are. It's your day off, right? Best to rest up."
"It's because I didn't sleep in this morning. I'm going back to sleep."
With that, Antiope headed into Hippolyte's small house. Watching her go, Hippolyte muttered softly, words only I could catch.
"She's too obsessed with heretics. That's why she's in the Temple Knights."
I wasn't sure, but it seemed Hippolyte worried about her half-sister. Some backstory? Curiosity piqued, I asked.
"Any reason for her heretic obsession?"
"She almost became a heretic sacrifice as a kid. Probably hasn't gotten over the trauma."
A heretic sacrifice.
I pictured a bizarre underground ruin, black-robed figures chanting, and a little girl bound and trembling on a central altar.
Trauma-inducing for sure.
If that girl gained power, she'd want revenge.
Childhood traumas shape a lifetime unexpectedly.
As I nodded to myself, Hippolyte kicked at the scattered leather sandbag remnants on the ground and added,
"Still, she seems gentler than before. Even the tattoo on her back has a brighter vibe."
"...A tattoo on her back?"
"Yeah, flowers and clouds. Means my little sis still has some girlish sensitivity left."
I said nothing.
* * *
Hippolyte's training was brutal.
Before teaching aura, she insisted on basic swordsmanship and hand-to-hand conditioning—and started pummeling me full force.
"Gahk!"
Her fists ghosted my solar plexus and gut vitals. It was hell. How many times had I eaten dirt today?
Rolling under the blazing summer sun.
What the hell was I doing?
I just wanted to go back to Luna's hut and rest.
Pillow on her soft, cool thighs for a nap—bliss.
"Samaritan, don't you know how to dodge? Watch the fist to the end and evade properly."
"It's... I know the theory, but my body won't follow...."
"You Bronze Tiers talk too much. Means you think too much. Move before thinking."
"Easier said than done...."
"Shh, here we go again. Solar plexus this time. Dodge well."
Half a day of this, and I was dying in every way.
Clear now: Hippolyte was a skilled adventurer, but a lousy teacher.
Couldn't grasp why others couldn't do what she could.
So I endured relentless solar plexus beatings until I barely dodged one or two out of ten.
Probably because I feared more hits might kill me—I gave it everything.
"Good, nice dodge."
"Really, just a little break?"
"Break? Gonna waste your tuition?"
Her teacherly traits shone, but my gut ached. I was paying to get beat.
Do martial artists enjoy paying for pain? Serious thought.
Anyway, I lay like a sick chicken, wheezing. Couldn't twitch a finger.
Even with control, repeated undefended vitals sap all will.
"Fine. Now, attacking. Touch me once, and class ends."
"You dodge, I strike?"
"Yeah."
Revenge chance! Motivation surged. Felt Luna cheering me on.
First time wanting to hit a woman since my sister and Elfride.
"Won't hold back just 'cause you're a lady."
"...You see me as a woman, huh. No need."
*Rustle.*
I shed club, gauntlets, chest plate, wrist wraps, greaves—dropped them.
Doubled my speed. Brain guess, but felt feather-light, ready to fly.
Confidence skyrocketed.
Hippolyte just smiled leisurely, stretching. Arms overhead, pits fully exposed—distracting.
Provocation, clearly.
"No weapon?"
I clenched fists, thrust forward. Bald monk vibe:
"My weapons are right here."
"True, a warrior's fists are weapons. If you can land them."
She planted hands on hips, chest out, standing proud.
Her casuals: thin crop top barely containing bust, skin-tight dolphin pants. Body like a perfect mannequin—flawless, balanced.
Impossible not to see.
Like the vitals on it.
Human acupoints: ~750. Lethal ones: ~50.
I knew ~20.
Hit wrong, agony. Dark acupressure.
My healing touch on good points. Reverse for damage?
Guessed it, no test subject till now.
Hippolyte, toughest I knew, perfect guinea pig.
"Today'll be different, Hippolyte."
"Got resolve. Try me—your moves are obvious."
"We'll see. Dodge well then."
I raised index fingers.
"Gonna poke with these."
"Poke...? Where?"
"Sensitive, vital spots."
This world lacked anatomy/acupoint knowledge.
Fist to solar plexus hurts—knife to heart kills. Basics only.
Even top adventurers like her wouldn't know her own vitals.
Loose guard inevitable.
Exploit with finger strikes—victory.
Perfect plan.
Felt doable.
Grinned confidently, fingers up.
"I warned you—poking."
"Poking...!"
Hippolyte scowled, arms guarding solar plexus.
Thinks belly poke?
"Won't help. I see you naked anyway. Your body's all visible."
"Tricks won't fool me!"
*Rustle.*
Waved fingers hypnotically in air.
"Hmm...."
She flinched, hands shifting to cup and hide breasts.
"Figured my plan?"
"...Filthy beast! Won't let your finger touch!"
Hippolyte shrieked like spooked. Unlike her usual calm—like cornered prey.
Composed her unbeatable. This flustered? Winnable.
Bluff and deception worked.
Wiggled fingers like groping water balloon. Her face flushed fever-red.
"...Y-You pervert! No better than heretics. Time to fix that head!"
Lost it—charged fast. Wasn't this me attacking, her dodging?
Bluff backfired into rage. Closed distance in blink.
"You bastard—!"
Left guards chest, right fist skyrockets for skull-knock.
*Crunch.*
Her toned arm tensed—chills down my neck.
"Fixing your manners...!"
No mere knuckie—real hit detaches head.
Faster than her descent, I snapped fingers like bullets.
Target: her breast.
Precisely, armpit beside it.
Right pit, exposed by high arm.
Central Extreme Spring acupoint relieves chest pain normally—but stabbed hard, ultimate vital.
*Plunk.*
"Aaah!"
Fingers nailed her rage-blind guardless pit.
*Squish.*
Soft, plush feel raced fingers to occiput.
"Kyaaah!"
She convulsed, crumpled. Uncharacteristic high feminine shriek echoed.
"Hngh, haa, ugh... uuk... M-Me, felled by a finger? W-What did you do...?!"
Writhing clump proved acupoint worked.
Me with this skill?
I gazed coldly at her fearful upgaze.
"Acupoint."
[Author's Note]
Once I chain-release, it feels like cooldown drains my energy and stamina... ã ã ... Hot weather, mosquitoes everywhere—driving me mad...
But hit 10k total comments milestone recently... Buffing everyone against heat and mosquitoes...!!!
Lasts 24 hours...!!