Chapter 126

“It’s not wrong what you’ve learned and mastered.”

Resultantly.

The one who inherited and continued Grandeous’ progress is Carriel.

Then, what the heck did we learn?

It’s similar but different. It’s alien.

Venus wanted to know why.

And that audacious bastard calmly says Venus’ path wasn’t wrong.

Carriel’s calm attitude was extremely irksome to him.

“Then why are you and I different?”

Carriel countered.

“…What do you seek?”

“What?”

“For what purpose do you strive to grow stronger and hone your skills? That’s what I’m asking.”

“Like, obviously, so I don’t have to bow down to anyone.”

“…If that’s all, it’s only natural you haven’t reached my level.”

“…What’re you talking about?”

Carriel shook his head.

“My goal is simple.”

Father, you.

“To crush you with skill.”

“You…!”

“It’s simple but impossibly difficult.”

However, ‘impossible’ doesn’t mean ‘don’t try.’

And.

That determination to definitely achieve it.

Not just for self-satisfaction or convenient self-justification, where “I tried but couldn’t reach it.”

…To arrive at such a conclusion.

To be satisfied with that kind of thing.

…Isn’t why I picked up a sword.

“I made this resolve and threw everything I had into it.”

Even the brighter future I might’ve had.

A smoother, more peaceful future.

A stable future.

A possibly happy, alternate future.

I let go of it all, discarded it, dismantled it while choosing this path.

“But that’s the minimum condition.”

“So did you beg the Demon King? Or that Golden Beast or something like that?”

Venus heard it.

The rambling from the Legion Commander, true or false didn’t matter, almost like venting.

Believe it or not, it’s up to you.

Take it as nonsense if you want, it’s still your call.

“Yeah. So I made a contract.”

“…”

But does he seriously spill everything like this?

Fudge around or cover it up, or even stay silent on matters that could invite questions, and yet he directly reveals them?

“I didn’t ask for power. I asked her to teach me the method. And she told me what Grandeous had dumped.”

Her?

What did Grandeous dump, exactly?

“Do you want me to tell you what I put up as collateral?”

“…Fine. I don’t care about that stuff, so stop being annoying.”

Venus scowled uncomfortably.

“So then, what did Grandeous dump?”

“Sword techniques and mental disciplines.”

Just seven movements.

Mental discipline, which was extremely simplistic.

Since there was nothing to hide, he told it straight away.

“Doleam.”

What does that mean? Pain.

Feel pain.

Hurt.

Hurt others.

Grieve.

Be heartbroken.

Lament.

Why does this word carry so many meanings? But when you trace linguistics, it’s not uncommon for a single word to hold multiple meanings depending on context or timing.

Its essence remains the same, but its meaning shifts slightly based on use.

This is probably in a similar vein.

Why Grandeous named the first mental discipline “Doleam.”

He said it casually.

[Becoming something other than myself. Merging with it until I dissolve—what else could that be but pain? What’s scarier or harder than abandoning oneself?]

…Is that so?

To assimilate with nature beyond mere imitation means that, huh?

Pain…

I don’t know.

There was boredom.

It felt tedious sometimes.

Still, I pushed forward.

No time for doubts.

[Yeah. That’s the key point. Where’s the time to slack off? That’s why I didn’t bother naming things unnecessarily.]

Swinging the sword in your hand should be enough; why assign meaning to it?

…When you’re too busy swinging.

“Why is what I learned and gained different from what you’ve learned and gained? The reason is simple.”

What I learned requires a lifetime of work to master normally.

For instance, if the Demon King hadn’t granted me an eternity within dreamlike spaces, ensuring endless practice,

I’d still be merely stringing together basic moves now.

“…”

Reforging myself while killing myself would’ve been impossible too.

“Look.”

He demonstrated each of the seven movements, naming them as well.

“For nearly ten years, I never stopped repeating these without a break. No sleep, no food, no rest. That’s how I met you in Somern.”

But even that feels like ancient history now.

So what about now?

It’s on another level.

“…Is that possible?”

“That was one of the graces she bestowed through our contract. However, this isn’t real-world physical training.”

You can train endlessly in dreams, but your body won’t get stronger.

Only your mind and consciousness are honed.

But the Demon King said that firm belief alone could strengthen the body.

[The brain can’t distinguish between reality and fiction.]

That unwavering belief.

When exposed to life-and-death situations, the concentration and willpower that arise during those desperate moments.

When they interlock with that zealousness, the effect doubles.

So, it wasn’t just enduring.

During that time, those years.

Beyond mere patience, it was domination, infiltration.

I concentrated and immersed myself in training.

That’s why, though it wasn’t quite ten years,

it equaled hundreds of lifetimes worth of growth for someone else.

Imagine someone boasting they’ve swung a sword for ten years.

How much of those ten years were actually spent wielding it?

Sleep? Daily living—is that sword training?

Even if they trained.

Physical conditioning? Running? Grappling?

Mental cultivation? Theory? Tactics and strategy?

Is any of that truly sword training?

Assuming they did all that, and then grabbed their sword.

How long were they really swinging it?

An hour? Two hours? Five hours? Ten hours? Twenty hours? Twenty-four?

Let’s say someone claims they’ve swung a sword for ten years.

But each day, they held it for barely an hour or two.

What if they took holidays or rest days?

If illness or fatigue caused them to skip regular training?

If they indulged in pleasures and skipped a day or two?

Even saying both swung swords for ten years,

If one person swung it for an hour daily without fail, another for two, another for five,

Are those truly equal ten-year periods?

And again.

Even assuming both swung swords for the same hour,

The gap between training with extreme focus and zeal versus someone half-heartedly pretending to swing a sword?

[That makes talent irrelevant.]

I lacked talent for swords.

But once you reach a level where talent becomes meaningless,

All that remains is accumulated time.

So, what has he truly accumulated?

Stacking sand versus stacking proper stones.

Isn’t it fair to say they exist on entirely different levels?

Thus, as long as you avoid meaningless sand-stacking,

Time never betrays you—if you don’t misunderstand the method.

That’s why.

The Demon King emphasized three things from the start.

Accuracy. Efficiency. Sincerity.

With accurate methods.

Accumulating efficiently.

Pouring your whole heart into it steadily.

That way, you avoid wasted effort.

Growing as normally, appropriately, and quickly as possible.

Continuously pushing forward.

And for that.

Clear plans and goals prevent wavering.

“If you grew this strong simply because you wanted to, relying solely on your innate talent, that’s all you’d be doing. But surely not, right?”

At Carriel’s words, Venus gritted his teeth.

Yeah. The answer was rash. Admittedly.

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

No clear goal?

Just wanting to grow stronger aimlessly?

Simply because it was unpleasant to bow or face threats? Out of dissatisfaction?

…Thinking about it now, it was pure nonsense, wasn’t it?

“I wanted to overturn the world.”

But that’s an impossible realm for an individual.

Yet, I still wanted to try.

“…”

But the limits were clear.

That’s why I sought the power of Grandeous.

I thought that level would make it possible.

“He gave you the best he could at the time.”

Carriel spoke.

Was it because Grandeous didn’t favor them and taught them poorly?

No.

That’s why those who peek into the future are pitiful.

He judged their limits early on.

This wouldn’t change, nor could it be overcome.

What he saw was absolute.

Thus, instead of teaching them what they couldn’t handle, he taught them what they could.

Perhaps, this was the most optimal teaching, compassionate guidance, and the most suitable gift he gave to those he favored.

“If you had learned what I did, you’d have reached a higher level by your forties at the earliest.”

But.

“…Would you have had the leisure or will to keep holding a sword until then?”

Discarding all emotions.

Living minimally while maintaining standards.

A life of extreme solitude where you must never doubt your path.

Yet, the results would be minimal, and observers would mock your persistence.

Even if this ensured transcendence later, it’s beyond what ordinary humans can endure.

Then, wouldn’t it be easier for pampered nobles?

Do nobles or royals exist who blindly pursue seemingly meaningless training without knowing their own limits?

Even if they do, circumstances can always shift.

Rather, most would succumb to fleeting pleasures, sacrificing their bodies and souls for fantasies of happiness.

Like most nobles and power-holders who dedicate themselves to indulgence from youth.

While doing whatever it takes to maintain that pleasure forever.

“So, what you learned back then was the correct answer for that time.”

Because you weren’t in the same situation as me.

Also.

Overlooking the circumstances I endured to reach here,

Looking only at the fruits in my hands, sure, maybe it seemed like a privilege.

That’s why.

Carriel questioned himself again.

‘Did I get all this for free?’

Carriel could only endure after breaking down.

But if he’d been asked to do this before breaking,

Even pouring in 100 or 1,000 years would’ve been futile struggle.

…The Demon King wouldn’t have just watched silently.

Thus, to realize sincerity, intent, and truth,

The Demon King commanded 100 suicides.

By my own hand.

Myself.

Myself killing myself.

It never got familiar.

Not the first time, not the second.

Not the tenth.

Not the twentieth.

Even when halfway through, joy over progress was overshadowed by dread over the remaining attempts.

“…”

And.

Venus finally understood why this kid’s eyes looked the way they did.

This.

Was burning oneself for a single purpose.

Burning until reduced to ashes.

But this isn’t wood.

Turning to ash doesn’t mean the end of life.

“If you still wish to learn, go ahead. But to master this, you must forsake everything you’ve learned and gained so far.”

First.

“…Removing improperly formed muscles comes first. Second, erasing all habits and senses ingrained in your body. Third, cleansing your consciousness and spirit of all combat awareness, temperament, instincts, skills, and experiences.”

Once you’ve become indistinguishable from commoners wandering the streets,

“Then we begin. By then, you’ll be granted the qualification to learn. Naturally, compared to now, you’ll be incredibly weak.”

Sound possible?

“After that, thirty years. Or maybe, given your stubbornness, only twenty to reach my current level…”

“Give it up. That’s impossible, right?”

Muscles might be fine if unused, but sensations?

Impossible.

How am I supposed to forget this?

As for consciousness, temperament, instincts?

At this point, I can’t even comprehend what you’re saying.

How unfathomably distant and unreachable this is.

But I can guess.

Even if you somehow accomplish what he demands,

All you’ll receive is a weakened version of yourself at the starting line.

The process to reach there ultimately weakens you.

“…”

For example.

Removing color.

Stripping all color from dyed leather before re-dyeing it.

The meaning was akin to this process.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Venus’ guess was affirmed with Carriel’s nod.

“…”

And.

Venus realized something else from those words.

This guy.

Surely the son of a Great Warrior, educated and trained extensively within the Empire.

Then.

This process the guy mentioned must be something he went through once.

Washing away everything learned as a noble of the Empire.

Following the guidance of the Demon King, the Golden Beast.

…Imbuing himself with the colors of Grandeous.

Throwing himself away in the process?

“…What a remarkable kid.”

Even clashing swords hundreds of times, Venus knew he couldn’t beat this guy now.

But still, his spirit wouldn’t break, right?

This is different.

This isn’t about breaking or not breaking.

Even if it came down to whether I could withstand him.

…Could I really stand against this thing?

Even if I didn’t fall,

…Could this thing fall?

The moment I started thinking this, I already admitted being overwhelmed.

Venus acknowledged it halfheartedly.

…To admit defeat because of crap like this.

Feels absurd.

“Instead, with your current level, you could give me some advice, right?”

“…”

“Just a temporary deal for this brat.”

To help me grow stronger now.

“Spill the advice. Right now.”

“…”

The guy asking for help sure has an impressive attitude.

But Carriel didn’t criticize.

Understanding that this proud guy asking for guidance meant significant effort and resolve by his standards.

That level of zeal.

“Yeah. To that extent.”

Carriel smiled lightly without malice.

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