I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 450

A chilling rush of air swept across the battlefield as a silver greatsword cleaved through space, leaving an ominous hum in its wake. The timing was impeccable. It was a perfectly calculated swing, with neither excess force nor wasted movement. The distance was measured to perfection, and the attack's execution was seamless. Yet, by the narrowest of margins, the strike missed its target, grazing its opponent’s head by a hair’s breadth.

Loki's team rallied at point A, determined to reclaim it despite temporarily ceding control of B. The strategy hinged on the placement of a ballista in a key position, which could help secure the central area. The narrow, confined spaces of A and C, in contrast to B, made them ideal for smaller skirmishes, typically 2v2. By consolidating their forces at A, forcing the enemy out, and severing the makeshift bridge connecting A and C, the team had a fair chance at success.

Four players were dispatched to A, resetting the situation to its initial state.

“Three minutes…?”

“This—this doesn’t even make sense….”

But Loki’s team had to swallow the bitter reality. It had taken them three whole minutes and the loss of two teammates to secure A.

The opposing team, guided by none other than Professor Eugene, showed no mercy in grading their efforts. The two allies who rushed in for an overzealous pincer attack were swiftly dispatched and unceremoniously sent back to the respawn screen with a D+ performance. Eugene’s daggers, still dripping with golden blood, gleamed ominously.

Now only Loki and a Shaman-class ally remained. Despite the Shaman’s body being augmented by a targeting spell, granting them over 20% enhanced stats, Eugene’s unrelenting focus allowed no room for even a single successful strike. To make matters worse, Eugene’s team had already informed their leader about Loki’s morale-boosting perk.

“Shaman, can you provide support?”

“…I’ll do my best.”

Dodge. Dodge again. And dodge yet again.

Eugene wasn’t just avoiding their attacks; they were making a statement. Every dodge was calculated to within inches, each one demonstrating complete awareness of their enemies’ moves while maintaining unbroken eye contact. To those watching, it felt more like dissection than evasion.

Behind them, the metallic hiss of a blade unsheathing broke the tension. The Shaman drew their gladius—not to join the fight but to hurl it with pinpoint precision. Thanks to their class ability, the ceremonial blade would be replaced at intervals, allowing for such high-risk maneuvers.

Loki and the Shaman spaced themselves apart, biding their time for a coordinated strike.

The assault began.

“Phew…!”

Eugene was undoubtedly a formidable opponent; that much was clear.

But even the most skilled warrior faced limitations, and daggers, with their 40cm reach, had clear drawbacks—particularly when closing the gap for an offensive. Weapons like poleaxes or bastard swords could exploit their range advantage to counter, but daggers had no such luxury.

As Eugene began to retreat from an overhead slash, Loki quickly canceled the animation, rushing forward to close the distance. A follow-up horizontal slash came immediately, forcing Eugene to cross their daggers defensively and brace for the impact.

A deafening clash echoed as the crossed daggers barely managed to parry Loki’s claymore. For the first time, a low grunt escaped Eugene’s lips—a rare sign of strain. They managed to hold their ground, avoiding being knocked aside only by sheer determination.

But the battle didn’t end there.

The Shaman seized the moment, hurling their gladius with all their strength. Loki, maintaining pressure on Eugene by holding the claymore in place, had created the perfect opening for the attack.

Yet, no one could have predicted the gleam in Eugene’s eyes at that moment.

“Urgh…!”

What followed occurred in less than a second—a flurry of events compressed into a heartbeat.

Eugene stepped back, releasing the tension on the claymore and narrowly avoiding its path. Simultaneously, the incoming gladius was deflected by their gauntlet, the metallic clang accompanied by a burst of sparks. The blade ricocheted into the air but didn’t fall. Instead, Eugene’s right leg, reinforced with metal greaves, delivered a powerful kick to the gladius’s hilt, sending it hurtling through the air like a missile.

Its destination was clear.

“Kh—ugh!”

“No way.”

The Shaman’s HP dropped to zero in an instant.

Loki could hardly believe their eyes, rubbing them as if to erase the sight. But no amount of disbelief could change reality. The proof was in the stillness, the faint echoes of the Shaman’s final cry reverberating before silence claimed the battlefield.

As the targeting spell vanished with the Shaman’s death, Loki felt a wave of exhaustion wash over them. The fleeting empowerment and vitality evaporated, leaving behind nothing but a crushing sense of defeat.

“Ha…ha…haha….”

“You’re not planning to run now, are you?”

“…I accept my defeat.”

The one who had single-handedly dismantled SSM Entertainment’s Glory and Honor pro-gamers stood before them, raising a dagger.

Loki braced for what they knew would be an uphill battle.

“Completely obliterated… I think I’ll take a break from ranked matches for, what, an hour? Feels like I got hit over the head with a sledgehammer.”

“Phew… we’ll let you off just this once.”
“You gotta admit, though. That was crazy.”
“In these tiers, once you lose momentum, you’re done for. Terrifying.”
“Honestly, a 4v1 loss is just insane LOL.”
“That wasn’t ranked; that was a real battle.”
The chair creaked as Loki collapsed into it, staring blankly at the ceiling. Normally, they would review the match, analyzing what went right and what went wrong, but they couldn’t bring themselves to do it this time.

The gap in skill was insurmountable. Even in Grandmaster tier, such disparity was rare. Yet Loki knew this wasn’t impossible. Every game had its star players—those whose very presence exuded an almost oppressive aura.

Some players survived against all odds, retaliating when you thought you’d cornered them.

Others were so unpredictable you had to resort to unorthodox strategies just to shut them down.

But this…this was something else entirely.

Ding!

A message notification broke Loki’s train of thought.

It was from a fellow gamer—a former peer with comparable skill and rank, though unlike Loki, they had remained in the pro scene. The message contained a link, its source verified as safe.

Curious, Loki clicked it, finding themselves directed to a channel.

[A Room Made to Beat the Two-Dagger User]

“…What the hell?”

The channel had 46 members. Despite its ridiculous premise, it was clear that this wasn’t some small joke—it was a coordinated effort.

Entry required verification of a Glory and Honor profile picture. Unable to resist their growing curiosity, Loki completed the process and entered the channel, only to be greeted by a pinned announcement:

“This channel was created with permission from streamer Eugene.”

“Kehuk.”

“What the hell?!”
“With permission? Seriously?!”
“These people are insane.”
“Honestly, the real lunatic here is probably that guy….”
Loki scrolled through the member list, noting an impressive lineup of players. From renowned pros to up-and-coming rookies, and even elite amateur players, all were represented. There wasn’t a single member below Master rank.

“Unbelievable.”

Even for someone immersed in the Glory and Honor world, Loki found it difficult to grasp the sheer absurdity of the situation.

[User “YourFreakinSword” has donated 3,000 won.]

“Why does it feel like this channel gains a new member after every match Eugene finishes?”
“Well, if these people manage to make progress, I’ll gladly support it. More members mean more breakthroughs, right?”

The channel’s admin, though not its creator, was none other than Eugene.

The world, Loki concluded, truly was a strange place.