30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?!-Chapter 281: What Justifies a Knight’s Battle? (4)

[...Grrk.]

At some point, Ortos regained consciousness and let out a rasping chuckle as he turned his gaze toward the humans.

How utterly foolish.

They had not even finished him off and were instead busy beating each other senseless.

What a laughable, ridiculous display.

Of course—

Ssshhhhh...

For Ortos, this was nothing short of a stroke of luck.

[Sssssaaah!]

As expected of a high-tier monster, his regenerative abilities had already kicked in.

While those two idiots were too busy brawling, he was recovering at a rapid pace.

Even the head with the broken neck was slowly realigning itself, knitting together thanks to the other still-intact head.

Ortos.

A monster that could not die as long as one of its two heads or its serpentine tail survived.

A creature with three lives.

However, regeneration required nutrients, and unfortunately, Ortos had not eaten anything today.

Which meant—he had no choice but to consume his own flesh.

By sacrificing his own body mass as fuel, he could accelerate the healing process.

His size would shrink significantly, and it would take a long time to regain his former strength, but—

Survival was more important.

Strength could always be rebuilt.

Once he escaped, he would devour prey, regain his body, and return to full power.

[Grrrrk.]

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And so—while those foolish humans were preoccupied with their own fight—

Ortos activated his invisibility once more.

He erased his presence.

He erased his form.

Now, there was no way those humans could possibly—

WHOOOSH!

[...?]

Ortos saw it.

A massive figure flying directly toward him.

And then—

CRACK!

Before his still-healing bones and flesh could fully harden—

They were shattered once again.

His body was crushed before he even had a chance to react.

And once more—

He passed out.

This time, with indescribable agony.

“Huh? What’s this soft thing I landed on?”

Ortos lay collapsed, unconscious, and coughing up blood from the sheer impact.

But the one who had crashed into him?

Felix—who had fully expected to roll across the ground in a humiliating heap—

Simply blinked.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he shrugged.

"Ah, well! I suppose this is another stroke of luck!"

He took it as a divine sign that the heavens still wished to witness his fight.

"Indeed! I must not fall so easily!!"

Felix sprang to his feet like a coiled spring.

"Come, warrior! Face me!!"

He let out a roaring battle cry, brimming with fighting spirit.

However—

"No, no—‘Come at me’ my ass. You're already injured."

Ihan simply shrugged, unimpressed.

Because—

‘This is just starting to feel like bullying.’

Felix was covered in bruises and blood, his body clearly battered—while Ihan stood there, completely fine.

To any outsider, this scene must have looked like pure, one-sided abuse.

***

Felix’s condition was beyond miserable.

His already massive body had swollen to nearly one and a half times its normal size.

Not just his arms and legs, but even his face.

There was so much swelling that his flushed face looked as if he were heavily intoxicated, and visible tremors ran through his body.

It wasn’t fear that made him tremble—it was the involuntary shuddering caused by his injuries.

‘His arms and legs must be fractured. His facial bones are intact, but the damage has built up steadily. Hmm, his ribs seem to be broken too.’

Ihan wasn’t a doctor, but diagnosing his opponent wasn’t difficult.

After all, he had extensive experience breaking people’s bones and muscles.

One could argue that, in this particular field, finding a better physician than Ihan would be a challenge.

Thus, Ihan simply said:

“That’s enough, don’t you think? If we go any further, you’re going to die.”

“A knight dies not when his body perishes, but when his spirit is broken!! Fleeing cowardly from battle—that is not the way of a knight!!”

“...Since when was this a duel?”

“NO NEED FOR WORDS!!”

“...My head hurts.”

Ihan sighed as Felix charged at him once more with sheer brute force.

It was giving him a headache, to say the least.

But regardless of how exasperating it was—

Fwsh!

“!!?”

“Don’t hold this against me.”

Ihan wasn’t arrogant enough to ignore an opponent who came at him with everything they had.

When someone charged at him with full force, it was only proper to meet them with equal sincerity.

For the first time in this fight, Ihan used a technique.

Boom!!

“Ghk—!!”

“Just a simple throw.”

It required precise timing and judgment, but Ihan processed such calculations instinctively. He effortlessly redirected Felix’s momentum and sent him flying.

Despite Felix’s tank-like charge, which was powerful enough to rival an armored vehicle, it wasn’t nearly enough to intimidate someone of Ihan’s caliber.

Which meant countering it was almost too easy.

“This is going to hurt.”

With that kind warning, Ihan grabbed Felix’s arm and his throat at the same time, locking down his entire limb in a single motion.

Crack!

“That’s a clean hold.”

“!!?”

A perfect chokehold.

It was a simple grappling technique, but once locked in, escaping was anything but simple.

And with one of Felix’s arms already restrained, well...

“Krrghh...!”

There was no way out.

Normally, when there was such a significant size difference between two fighters, executing a successful chokehold was difficult.

But Ihan’s physicality couldn’t be measured just by appearances.

At this moment, Felix must have felt like prey caught in the coils of a giant anaconda, suffocating helplessly.

That’s how perfect Ihan’s technique was.

By now, the only options left were to surrender or to pass out from lack of oxygen.

But—

“Mmmph...!!”

With a loud crunch, Felix’s muscles swelled even further, his already massive body bulging grotesquely.

Slowly... impossibly... he began to rise.

Under normal circumstances, once someone was caught in a chokehold this deep, movement should have been impossible.

But Felix defied logic.

His muscles, surging with explosive power, forcefully rebelled against the natural order—

And then—

BOOM!!

“...?”

Ihan had no choice but to be shocked.

Even though he hadn’t let go of the chokehold, Felix and he were suddenly soaring into the air.

‘Did this guy just launch himself into the air using only his leg strength?’

...While being completely restrained?

"You're out of your damn mind."

Ihan shook his head in sheer exasperation at the sheer stupidity of it.

And then—

Swish.

Without a second thought, he simply let go.

“!!”

Thud!

A resounding crash echoed as Felix smashed into the ground, landing in a disgraceful heap.

Ihan, on the other hand, performed an elegant aerial flip, landing with perfect control.

"Uaaaah!!"

But Felix, perhaps thinking Ihan had let his guard down, bounced back up and charged again.

It was the exact same charge as before—except this time, Felix tried to feint a hook punch to throw Ihan off.

But...

“Too obvious.”

Tap.

Felix’s fist was blocked before it could even extend.

It was a perfectly timed counter, and Felix’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Don’t be shocked. Instead, you should’ve done something like this.”

CRACK!

Ihan’s forehead crashed into Felix’s with terrifying force.

It didn’t feel like a human head—it felt like a slab of iron.

Felix’s vision flipped upside down, his body staggering backward—

And in the blink of an eye, Ihan’s arms and legs moved in perfect sync, smoothly sweeping Felix’s legs out from under him.

A simple inside trip—

Something even a child could execute.

But when timing, force, and technique aligned perfectly, even a basic move could unleash terrifying power.

Just like this.

BOOM!

The impact shook the ground.

Felix’s massive body sank into the dirt, his limbs twitching violently—

And then—

Thud.

Complete knockout.

This time, he was fully unconscious.

Ihan shook his head.

“I’ll give you this—you’ve got strength. You might even be stronger than me or that ‘big guy’ up north. But if I’m being brutally honest? That’s all you’ve got. You need to fight smarter. At the very least, you should refine your technique, but even that’s lacking. It’s... kind of pathetic.”

Felix was nothing more than a weaker version of that northern brute.

Sure, his raw strength and size might surpass the northern beast of a man, but unlike him, Felix had no exceptional reflexes, no great judgment, no wild instinct, no tactical sense.

That northern giant only looked like a brute—in reality, he was a fox disguised as a lion.

That man was Maximus.

"If nothing else, you should at least refine your fighting style—like the Spearman did."

The Spearman wasn’t particularly strong # Nоvеlight # or durable, but he had trained his speed and precision to such an extreme level that his style became uniquely his own.

Even though his attacks were just simple thrusts, each one felt new, precise, and impossible to predict because of the sheer mastery behind them.

But Felix?

Felix was just someone who trained brute force and nothing else.

He had no fighting style to match his strength.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

‘His strength is certainly absurd, something beyond the limits of normal humans. But that’s it.’

The sheer gravitational pull of his strength made it nearly impossible for most opponents to fight back.

But it wasn’t unbeatable.

Once you got used to it, countering it wasn’t too difficult.

It wasn’t without flaws, after all.

Had Felix learned to strategically utilize his power, Ihan would have struggled a lot more.

But he didn’t.

At best, one could call it straightforward.

At worst—

"Hmph. So basically, I’m trash."

“...I didn’t say it that bluntly.”

...Since when had he woken up?

Or... had his eyes just rolled back, while his consciousness remained?

Felix, still sprawled on the ground, accepted Ihan’s critique without resistance.

His gaze was surprisingly calm.

“I can’t move my body.”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have charged in like a lunatic.”

“My apologies. At some point, I realized you were human, but I just couldn’t suppress my competitive nature.”

It was a sincere apology.

And Ihan accepted it without hesitation.

Not because he was kind.

But because Felix had fought honestly from start to finish.

Even in a losing battle, he never once drew his weapon or harbored killing intent in his fists.

Which meant—

He was a genuine, straightforward person.

...To the point of stupidity.

“Whatever. Now that you’ve heard my assessment, answer me this—why do you fight so recklessly?”

“Hmm... It’s funny hearing this same lecture from you. Sir Bale once told me the same thing.”

“...Tristan’s Bale?”

“Oh! So you know of him! Of course! A warrior of your caliber would surely have crossed paths with such a man!!”

“Lower your voice. You’re going to rupture something if you keep screaming.”

“Hah! As if I would be weakened by—Cough! Hrk!”

“See?”

“Ahem.”

With an awkward cough, Felix finally settled down.

Ihan clicked his tongue and tossed him a potion.

“Drink it.”

“...I appreciate the kindness. And in return, allow me to answer your question!!”

“You can answer after drinking—”

But Felix, stubborn to his core, refused to let a debt of gratitude go unpaid.

And his answer—

“Techniques and strategies are for the weak! How can those born with overwhelming strength and talent sully themselves with the tools of the weak?! The privilege of the strong is to rely on raw, pure physical might!!!”

—The privilege of the strong!!

“...?”

Ihan stood there, speechless.

He understood the words.

But the sheer idiocy of what he just heard was making him dizzy.

So—

“...Is this man serious?”

A voice responded.

“...Unfortunately, he is.”

“...Has he ever considered changing?”

A deep sigh echoed in response.

Ihan nodded in understanding.

‘So this... is real madness.’

There was a difference between someone pretending to be insane and someone who was actually insane.

And Felix was clearly the latter.