The Academy’s Weapon Replicator

Chapter 440 (1) – The Academys Weapon Replicator

Frondier unleashed his attack.

A sword radiating light. To put it simply, an enormous aura shaped like a sword crashed towards Heracles.

BOOOOM!

True to his word, Heracles received the blow without moving.

An overwhelming force that an average human wouldn’t be able to withstand. An upgraded version of the attack that had hit Heldre and Renzo.

It contained an incomparable amount of demonic energy from the Obsidian.

However, this attack wasn’t ‘Crossfire,’ nor was it Excalibur that had devoured a dragon heart and weaving dual layers, nor was it the real Mjölnir.

Even so, it was a force that would undoubtedly deal a blow to Belphegor.

So, what about against Heracles?

A cloud of dust and fog rose, obscuring the view. It was a scene straight out of a comic book. Frondier held his breath and watched what happened next.

The fog cleared, and the first thing he saw was…

“….?”

Telephus. He was the first to catch Frondier’s eye, before Heracles.

Telephus, who had been watching from the side, was sitting slumped a short distance away. He looked up at his father, Heracles.

‘What’s with him?’

Frondier wondered but decided to ignore it. He looked back at Heracles.

“….Indeed.”

Heracles spoke in the same voice as before.

However, unlike his robust physique, his clothes were quite ordinary, so they had been torn and blown away by the force of the aura.

“You’re strong. Power unimaginable for a human.”

Heracles nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Frondier carefully examined his body.

‘….Not completely fine, but….’

Heracles had sustained minor injuries all over his body. It was even more evident now that his clothes were gone.

However, the wounds were so insignificant that they looked as if they had been grazed by the edge of a piece of paper. Blood was oozing from the wounds all over his body, but were they significant enough to be considered damage?

At least there was a definite wound in the center of his chest. It looked like he had been cut by a sword. It was a small relief.

‘That attack was practically the limit of what I can use in actual combat….’

The reason Frondier didn’t use his full power was partly to conceal it, but there was another reason.

Even unleashing an attack of this magnitude required going through three stages: Menosorpo, Weaving, and Aura. Even with this, he wouldn’t have been able to land the attack if his opponent hadn’t shown a huge opening or been restrained in some other way.

If he tried to draw out more power and go through more stages, landing the attack would become extremely difficult.

‘Can I make it stronger than this, and at the same time, shorten the preparation process?’

Defeating Belphegor was luck. No one knew that better than Frondier.

However, no amount of luck would be enough to defeat Heracles. That despair.

“Amazing ability and application. Creating weapons, then using melee weapons like a sword and hammer to launch ranged attacks. Anyone who sees it for the first time would be caught off guard.”

Heracles praised him, but naturally, Frondier was disconcerted.

The problem was that even if he was hit, there was no damage.

“This is my full power. As expected, you are incredible, Heracles-nim. I am in awe.”

“Haha, your words betray your frustration.”

Of course.

It wasn’t really his full power, but there was no point in assuming it was. Unless they had a personality as outrageous as Belphegor, no one would play along.

‘…Come to think of it, Belphegor’s attitude back then seemed to go beyond mere ‘laziness.’

Belphegor watched and waited for Frondier to reveal all his cards. At the time, Frondier thought it was the arrogance or laziness inherent in demons, but now that he thought about it, it was strange.

“Hmm, so that’s your full power.”

Heracles nodded and seemed lost in thought for a moment, bringing his hand to his mouth.

Meanwhile, Telephus was still sitting there, unable to get up.

“F-Father’s body… wounded….”

He had been muttering similar things since earlier.

At that moment, Heracles pointed at one of Frondier’s hands.

“But that hammer in your hand, that’s a God’s weapon.”

“…That’s right.”

“The other one is a human’s, but it seems to surpass even the weapons of ordinary Gods. Did it belong to a great hero of a bygone era?”

There was no point in hiding it now, so Frondier nodded.

Heracles summarized.

“A God’s hammer, a hero’s sword, imbuing them with aura, adding otherworldly mana, and then launching them at the opponent….”

Heracles had grasped almost the entire principle of Frondier’s power after being hit just once.

Indeed, most of those who had been hit by it were either crippled or too busy reacting to think straight. Heracles was probably the first person to analyze it so calmly.

“──Haha.”

Then Heracles let out a hearty laugh.

“Your full power, it’s like… arithmetic.”

“…Pardon?”

Frondier didn’t understand what he meant. Ignoring him, Heracles turned his gaze to Telephus, who was standing beside him.

“How long are you going to stay slumped there? Let’s go.”

“F-Father, are you alright?”

“It hurts. I hope you’ll be able to unleash such power someday.”

“…”

Telephus closed his mouth at that. He glanced at Frondier.

“…Ugh!”

And then, as if frustrated by something, he gritted his teeth and followed after Heracles, who was already walking away.

“H-Heracles-nim! What did you mean just now,”

“It means nothing.”

Heracles didn’t stop walking and just threw the words over his shoulder.

“It’s nothing worth explaining.”