Chapter 141

Posted by Kuze, ? Views, Released on February 8, 2025

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The black flame turns into crimson blood and whips out.

Even the dark night sky is covered as it seeps in like pitch-black ink.

However.

Despite scattering and thrusting the sword several times, he handles it very skillfully.

Although Cariel is only responding, Venuse is trying to convince himself that he still holds the initiative.

That despite everything…

It was clearly not the case for even Venuse, who deals with this, endures all these damages.

But this guy?

Pale white skin stark against jet-black hair, his unwavering eyes clear like a full moon on a cloudless night.

Dressed head-to-toe in black, you’d doubt if he’s even human when he blends into shadows—but contradictions aside, something about him wasn’t normal.

“Hey! At least pretend it’s tough!”

You piece of—!

Inevitably, this bastard!

For every slash and stab, Carriel deflected with such composure—it was almost infuriating. Despite knowing there was a power gap, or maybe an overwhelming foundation difference…

‘Is this still not enough?’

Still…?

What more must I throw in, sacrifice, pay the price for, just to reach…

…that level?

Yet, instead of disappointment or frustration, it only fuels my fighting spirit.

This is what it takes to make a challenge worthwhile. If I crumble here…

…how pathetic and embarrassing would my lifelong pursuit seem?

What I’ve pursued isn’t wrong. He’s proof of that.

But me? Unable to reach it…

Now, I can only move forward in my own way.

Time may flow, eras may pass, and perhaps one day I’ll become much stronger as he said—but during that time, what can I truly accomplish?

While wasting time honing skills, my original purpose and resolve will dull, rust over.

Meanwhile, those unreasonable bastards stomping around like they own the world won’t stop anytime soon.

And the cries, sighs, despair, and resignation of those unjustly oppressed?

‘Their fault for being weak.’

But…

There are situations where people have no choice but to endure. Some can’t even look up, forever bowing their heads, seeing nothing but dirt.

And for them, change without someone offering help remains impossible.

Before, I mocked and insulted such failures, calling them losers—but does that mean they don’t play a role?

Just like flowers have roles, trees have roles—even insects clinging to them or beasts wandering nearby serve purposes. Don’t storms and the sun also have roles?

So then, what’s gone wrong? Whose fault is it? Why has the world become so absurdly unfair?

“Alright, how long will you keep acting so calm?!”

Let’s see you handle this!

Muscles bulge, tendons thicken; veins pop out across furrowed brows. But more alarming than any physical transformation are the fiery red eyes glaring with intent to spill blood at any moment.

Though the body already surpasses human limits, trembling precariously close to collapse—it holds firm.

Yet, it’s still not enough. What’s missing?

‘Because it’s not a fundamental solution.’

What’s the essence of Venus? And what about that thing over there?

Grandeous and Cariel wield something beyond conventional structure—a transcendent power far removed from mere phenomena manipulation. Something incomprehensible, rendering understanding meaningless.

Everything gets sucked in, without exception.

Mana—and all related phenomena—are devoured endlessly.

And there’s no end in sight.

A vessel-less entity exploits this force to counteract opponents while weaving intricate traps akin to spiderwebs, making escape impossible.

“Ugh. Gives me chills.”

Even knowing how to counter or disrupt it, it remains baffling.

This is the limit of what I can manage. But now, that thing over there transcends us entirely. It doesn’t need to exploit your strength; instead, it uses it casually whenever convenient.

Still, countless terrifying things remain. For instance…

“Gah!”

Merely taking a step covers five strides effortlessly—an insane movement pattern.

Also…

“Zzzennn—!”

Clang!

His body tilts unnaturally, drawn toward the swinging blade like being pulled by some unseen force. Barely managing to deflect with his own sword, the pressure quickly overwhelms both weapon and wielder, deadening them instantly.

An oppressive weight, crushing pressure, suffocating tension bear down on mind and body alike, pushing and pulling simultaneously.

As though drawing closer increases suction, moving away intensifies repulsion—what kind of phenomenon is this?!

‘This is why conventional methods fail.’

Around him, normal laws seem suspended. A moment’s lapse causes bodily collapse, disorienting balance and center of gravity.

Swords cross briefly before parting immediately—any prolonged contact risks complete absorption. Yet sometimes, he pushes back violently, releasing stored energy unpredictably.

Normally, limited mana reserves would be manipulated efficiently for counterattacks—but against someone whose container knows no bounds, blindly dumping everything could backfire disastrously.

‘Is this all there is? How am I supposed to win with THIS?’

That damn devil brat, trying to kill me off like trash?

I know my limits clearly, along with the determination and resolve driving me further—but it’s not enough.

If sheer willpower alone could achieve everything, emperors, demon kings, heroes, legions, gods, demons, and whatever else wouldn’t exist! The world wouldn’t be filled with useless garbage waiting to fall apart under my hand!

‘Come on, show me more! Is THIS all you’ve got?!’

Say whatever you want. Be shameless, desperate, low—if that’s what it takes to beat unbeatable foes, so be it.

Does the weak using underhanded tactics bother you? Is it a sin?

Then don’t make the world this way!

My chest hurts. An unknown voice pierces my brain. Consciousness wavers as darkness and scarlet engulf my vision—but I can’t close my eyes.

With gritted teeth wide open, I charge forward swinging my sword.

Even from a distance, flames erupt from the blade, scorching space and splitting the earth beneath.

Effortlessly brushing it aside…

The fact that he didn’t absorb it matters. Did he choose not to, or couldn’t he?

‘What do you want me to do?’

He’s thinking too. Even a slim chance demands decisive action.

Even if it’s a rotten rope, its aid feels precious to me now.

I swing again. Somewhere along the line, the world turned crimson.

Intense heat burns not just the skin but chars it, flaying flesh and leaving blisters.

‘Not yet.’

This level shouldn’t faze him. Defeating everyone else means nothing unless I defeat HIM.

‘Until the end.’

If satisfaction doesn’t come…

Then either I die, or he kills me.

Can someone challenge adversity without preparing to die? No way.

I understand this better than anyone. So once again, as always…

This life, this body, the years I’ve built up, the malevolent power I begged and clawed for—I offer them freely.

This is my all-out effort.

===

Could someone who sees the future really fail to predict this situation?

[That child is like fire.]

Amidst the grand darkness and starless sky, Grandeous evaluated Venus thus.

[Even if I had been by his side, he would’ve eventually found his own path.]

Rather, his teachings might’ve merely controlled the boy’s reckless tendencies somewhat—though he seemed content enough.

[But the fate of burning things is to gradually fade over time.]

Except Venus is different.

Human limitations were evident, yet the spark within his will burned fiercely enough to ignite his soul—not just transfer but permanently fuse with it. His resolve and stubbornness operated on another plane altogether.

[But as the world presses and sways him, inevitably he’ll accept and adapt.]

Few things could provoke him, and his world felt cramped and inadequate.

[After meeting you, his perspective changed.]

A worthy rival. An adversary he must crush, yet not necessarily kill.

He simply wants to overcome you. Why?

[Probably due to boys’ nasty temperaments.]

Though Grandeous spoke thus…

That’s not it.

Cariel understood Venus’s mindset somewhat, as Venus understood him.

Regardless of acknowledgment, to Venus, Grandeous’s achievements and legacy—and the bonds formed through them—were likely invaluable.

But they shattered. The truth he believed turned out false—or perhaps he sought to prove it was indeed true.

Simultaneously, inheriting Grandeous’s name and ideals while witnessing worldly injustices made standing idly by unbearable—not out of righteousness, but because it went against his nature.

He wanted… Maybe even to correct his own distortions.

But now, twisted beyond repair, reversing course seems impossible. Having already leapt off the cliff, choosing otherwise became irrelevant.

All that remains is piercing regret and faint hope. Reality dictates crashing into hard ground, facing unavoidable evil without malice.

One day, amidst fading hope and corroding ideals, I appeared.

As Grandeous’s successor and Rueld’s son.

To him, no greater injustice or destiny existed. Thus, his rampant actions remained understandable.

Not out of consideration or compromise, but recognizing his desperation.

Bulging muscles and wild-eyed intensity exuded an indescribable aura. Captured yet unwilling to submit.

Attempting to control, dominate, and transform even that into a tool—his obstinacy is truly astonishing.

So desperate… Refusing submission, demanding blind obedience despite resistance—how far will it go?

“But…”

Dozens of clashes later, declaring defeat isn’t an option. Even if you dedicate yourself fully, willing to sacrifice the future, begging earnestly to win…

I could deliberately lose, sure.

Would you accept it, though? If acceptance were possible, wouldn’t I have lost willingly dozens of times already?

But you’re smarter than that, right? So what’s left to do?

‘Isn’t it simple?’

I’m neither warrior nor knight. Such inefficient, meaningless attrition wars leave me skeptical—but I respect your resolve.

Responding sincerely to such dedication holds little interest for me. Neither seeking superiority nor belittling you appeals.

From start to finish, my goal remains unchanged: honoring my contract with the Demon King cleanses accumulated resentment, hatred, regret, despair—all shaped into unyielding determination.

It might seem pitiful, even pathetic—but for me to stand tall, I must first surmount this barrier.

No matter how disgraceful, how childish, how foolish others find it—I’ll endure.

I walk my path. Escaping the abyss, crossing the wilderness until reaching the destination.

Thus…

Walk your own path. Whether it leads to killing me or overcoming me—it’s your responsibility.

As you’ve always told others.

“Gaaaahhh!!”

Screaming, he slashes wildly, igniting flames consuming everything like a wall of fire. The wall undulates like snake heads, whipping violently with unchecked hostility.

Dodging dramatically, countering dynamically—I prepare accordingly.

[When I sought to slay demons and become a holy knight wielding a sacred sword, it was my personal compromise.]

Back then, I was incomplete.

He, Grandeous, told me:

[But the sword in your hands isn’t a sacred sword, is it?]

Those words echo hauntingly.

Facing someone borrowing demonic power, threatening to reduce the royal palace itself to fiery ruin, I smirk faintly.

Normal combat becomes meaningless. Dueling or struggling dissolves into irrelevance—but options remain.

‘Your choice deserves respect, but…’

Is it truly optimal? Test it out.

If breaking requires fracturing first—then let it break.

‘Life works contrary to expectations.’

Likely true for both of us.

Dual-handed obsidian sword cloaked momentarily in darkness.

Then suddenly bathed in golden light radiating intensely.

What I hold now…

It’s justified fear and awe directed toward all bearing evil and demonic influences.

Though seemingly extreme, it’s not purely yang energy.

Still, it burns brightest, hottest—but cannot be fully contained.

If it could, would the sacred sword hold such reverence?

Thus, the sacred sword emits divine power. Combined with the Demon King’s authority, Uthpala. Both refine the sword forging process.

Absorbing strength imprints its essence onto the blade.

Is this the end? Not quite.

Prior to these two forces colliding, include fragments of armor imbued with my energy into the sword. Done?

No.

Earlier still, this sword faced the brilliant yet cruel white flames born from the princess possessed by the Demon King’s power.

Reversing roles, you reproduced the Black Light Star using her power as fuel. Was this coincidence?

During that process, the immense flames warped the sword. Was that the end?

No.

Overlooked was why it didn’t melt or shatter. Why could it manifest my vision?

Recall what this sword cut.

Why was it possible?

Because this sword…

…severed the golden neck.

Having absorbed tremendous mana, especially through that event, the sword bears traces of golden blood.

Thus, symbols and myths etched themselves into the blade.

The Golden Beast.

Originally insignificant, the sword embodies the permanence and brilliance of gold associated with the Demon King.

However, this doesn’t directly enhance durability; it’s symbolic.

Representing the Demon King’s endurance and strength, measures ensured integration into the sword.

None other than Grandeous himself oversaw this.

Just before handing the sword to Rueld, a master craftsman performed a unique ritual requiring lifetime dedication, infusing his soul to create a legendary blade.

[That, my dear, is the culmination of my arrangements.]

Which explains why your qualification trials felt so brutal.

An eternally growing, perpetual sword. That’s Elbat given to you now.

[Once you reach ultimate mastery, attributes and elements may lose meaning—but until then…this will greatly assist you.]

Until you attain celestial power, it considers all stellar possibilities.

And since you’ve begun realizing your true destiny concerning gold…

[Would it reflect well on a Holy Son to wield a weaker sword than a Sacred One?]

Though the Demon King disappeared, should another arise after millennia—unlikely though it may be…

Who knows? We don’t yet.

Should such an entity appear and fulfill destiny properly…

[Where would we be then?]

…