Chapter 263

Chapter 263
Chapter 263

—

Hidden Talisman Cube

The Imperial Palace.

The Golden Mask, who had arrived to find Lyca while he was practicing with his blade at the training grounds, immediately let out a curse.

“Lyca, have you lost your mind?”

“Are you the one who is deranged? Hurling vulgarities in a consecrated place of training?”

Grind!

The Golden Mask gnashed his teeth at the response from Lyca, whose facial expression remained entirely stoic.

“…What possessed you to permit the Goddess Cult to enter the tournament?”

By every law, this competition was restricted to the citizens of the Empire. However, the standing statutes had been abruptly altered, and the criteria for entry had expanded immensely. This had occurred without any deliberation. Lyca had acted independently to ensure any human throughout Pangaea could join. The magnitude of the competition had even increased twofold. This was a matter that strictly required the sanction of a council assembly.

“Peruse the enlistment protocols I drafted with care. We shall recruit gifted individuals of utility from far and wide. Has that not been the objective of the tournament since its inception?”

“Do you… expect me to accept that as an excuse?”

A lethal aura flickered in the eyes of the Golden Mask. Every time he spoke with this man, Lyca, the dialogue went in circles. He felt his pulse quicken with irritation every single time.

The Goddess Cult and the Evil God Cult were like oil and water, incapable of blending. Moreover, the Empire was a realm that was secluded beyond belief. It was required to be so. The Emperor remained in a deep sleep, all manner of gruesome experiments were performed in the light of day, and the Empire kept countless mysteries that were for their ears only—truths that no inhabitant of Pangaea should ever uncover.

Naturally, if a flood of outsiders entered the Empire and the Imperial Palace, those truths might be exposed. Despite this… Lyca had invited this catastrophe while the bulk of the Evil God Cult’s leadership had departed the Empire to hunt for the ‘Golden Spirit King.’

“I call it the reality of the situation. Because in this entire Empire, there is not a single competent soul capable of taking my place.”

However, Lyca refused to retreat. He had a motive for his stubbornness. Though he was doing his best to mask it, Lyca was fading away.

‘There is no remedy for these internal wounds.’

It was the lingering trauma caused by triggering all Protections and the Five Gates. It was a Curse of Certain Death. His internal organs were failing, and his vital essence was evaporating. This was a desperate effort to bequeath the inheritance of the Eight Excellence to a successor before this inevitable hex claimed him.

“…You truly intend to seek an heir for the Eight Excellence regardless of their homeland or faith? You will graciously accept anyone provided they possess the gift?”

“Golden Mask. For once, we are finding common ground.”

“Even if that individual is a cleric of the Goddess Cult?”

“Ah, it makes no difference.”

Creeeak!

“You arrogant… halt the tournament at once…”

“Accept this.”

Thud!

Lyca drew an object from his attire and flung it toward the Golden Mask. In a heartbeat, the expression of the Golden Mask, who caught the item, shifted into something distorted.

“…This is?”

“The Heart of Pride.”

The Demon of Pride. It was the core gained through a gamble with that entity. This heart, which granted authority over the Demon of Pride, was a priceless heirloom that could not be exchanged for any sum! If he wished to conduct the tournament as he pleased, Lyca had no choice but to surrender something of immense worth.

The Golden Mask spoke, looking stunned.

“Why are you going to such extremes?”

“Because I am consumed by thirst.”

“…?”

“I am parched to the point of insanity.”

There were truths one only grasped when standing at the threshold of the grave. The barrier between existence and the void. The hunger to leap over that wall and carve a new trail. Lyca had hit his ceiling. He could think of no strategy to vault over that barrier and find a breakthrough. He had attempted every regime of training to perfect his martial path, but there was precisely one avenue he had left unexplored.

‘Mentoring a student.’

It was to mold a successor. Only by offering everything without reservation, instructing, and analyzing himself once more could he discover a path forward. Consequently, he required a student more brilliant than any other. Raising a protege was Lyca’s ultimate ‘lingering attachment.’ This was the motivation for driving the tournament forward, even at the cost of the Heart of Pride.

“Golden Mask. If you loathe the prospect of the Goddess Cult winning the tournament, then present some competent candidates of your own. Even if they are your subordinates, I will welcome them so long as they have the spark.”

“…Very well, I shall do exactly that.”

The Golden Mask uttered those words in acknowledgment of Lyca’s resolve and walked away. He had grasped that if he attempted to halt it by force, the Empire would split apart. If it could not be prevented, then, as Lyca suggested, he merely had to ensure others did not win. The optimal path was for one of his own followers to triumph and claim the mantle of the Eight Excellence. If he could hold the Eight Excellence in his grasp, it would be no different from owning the Empire itself.

—

“If you can mark this stone, you are accepted!”

The recruiter bellowed while scanning the hundreds of aspiring entrants huddling in the tent. Moments later, two men strained as they hauled in a massive boulder. At first glance, it appeared to be a common rock, but I recognized its nature the second I laid eyes on it.

‘Gicheon Stone.’

It was a mineral identical to the Gicheon Stone I had encountered on the Mountain of the Practitioner. Had I not brought Baal back to life while shattering the blighted Gicheon Stone? However, to leave a mark on a Gicheon Stone, one required ‘Penetration Power.’ Was this an assessment to see if one possessed such piercing strength?

I gave a silent nod as I reviewed the data that manifested shortly after.

【Hard Gicheon Stone】
A boulder that negates all strikes below a specific statistical threshold.
Disregards impacts with a combined stat total of 350 or less.

It signified that a mark could be made based on the sum of one’s attributes. Strength, Agility, Stamina, Intelligence, and Mana. One needed a mean of at least 70 across all five categories to succeed. To put it another way, they were looking for entrants of Level 7 or higher who had perfected their growth. Level 7 was the rank of a high-tier knight.

“A pebble like this is child’s play!”

A burly man at the front of the line strode forward with arrogance. He then launched a direct strike with all his power.

Kung!

“Aaargh!”

With a dull thud, the man collapsed to the ground. Not a single indentation appeared on the stone.

“…It seems to be tougher than I anticipated.”
“Is it just that that fellow is a weakling?”

The onlookers behind him tossed mocking jests at the man groveling on the floor. They then stepped up with confidence, but…

“Keo-heok!”
“Wh-What! Why is it so immovable!”

Failures piled up one after another. To start with, a combined stat sum of 350 was not an easy feat. By basic math, it necessitated Level 7, but the process of leveling while entirely capping one’s attributes was a grueling labor in itself.

“I suppose even the Holy City has little to offer.”
“Is it roughly one in fifty?”

The recruiters whispered to themselves. The truly capable warriors had already signaled their intent to join long ago; scouting at the eleventh hour was nothing more than a way to pass the time. At most, only one in fifty managed to leave a scar on the boulder.

“Next!”

Before long, it was my turn. There was no specific glimmer of hope in the eyes of the recruiters watching me. No, everyone assembled there shared a similar disdainful look.

“Don’t waste our time and get out of the way.”
“Looking at how thin he is.”
“The outcome is certain without even trying.”

They spoke as though my defeat was a foregone conclusion. It was certainly logical from their perspective.

‘My attributes are also somewhat lacking.’

My stats were indeed below the mark. My current combined total did not reach 350. The level I had attained through the challenges on the Island of God was 4. My cumulative stat sum was 324. For my level, it was a staggering total, but technically, it remained under 350.

‘My raw stats are a bit short.’

Naturally, that was only to say my ‘raw stats’ governed by my level were insufficient. The situation could shift if supplementary stats were provided by gear or artifacts. Gear or artifacts that could bridge the remaining 26 stats—that was a dream unless it was at the very least Mythic or Unique quality. Randolph’s gear was, as expected, in a state where it could not be partitioned.

‘…There was something being partitioned.’

However, there was one item being partitioned. This specific necklace. This pendant, which contained the ‘Broken Spear of Longinus,’ was a piece of gear shared with Randolph.

‘Primordial Armor.’

The Primordial Armor that had shifted its shape into a necklace! Truly, it was only logical that gear on the tier of the Primordial Armor was required to hold the ‘Broken Spear of Longinus,’ which could pierce through dimensions. That was not the end of it.

‘Other System Authorities, including the Hidden Talisman Cube.’

Just as the Guardian Wall was partitioned, other ‘System Authorities’ were also being utilized by both. Markets like the Golden Rule Shop or the Authority Shop. Since the Talisman Cube was a power granted by Main Quest 11, it was only natural that it was partitioned. And because the ‘Primordial Armor’ and the ‘Hidden Talisman Cube’ were shared, the ‘Talismans’ housed within the cube were also connected.

‘Celestial Whale Talisman!’

One of the prizes from Main Quest 11. The Celestial Whale Talisman, which was likely the most vital prize! When attached to the Primordial Armor, it held an enhanced power of 1.5 times.

I gave a thin smile. Then, standing before the boulder, I delivered a light, direct punch.

Kwaaaaang!

—

Lyca stared at the blade in his hand.

Even though every breath brought agony, he never neglected to swing his sword for a single day. To him, it was a completely standard habit. Ordinarily, he should have entered a state of empty focus, free from any distracting thoughts.

‘I am anticipating this.’

As the opening of the tournament approached, he could not easily dismiss his wandering mind. He was already wondering what sort of prodigy would appear. However, would a gift capable of pleasing him truly surface? He had encountered numerous self-proclaimed geniuses until now, but he had never once been impressed by their capacity. Because they were all beneath him. There were those with specific strengths, but a total genius who mastered every facet did not exist other than himself.

However, since he was drawing from the whole of Pangaea, it was true that he felt a spark of hope. He had also established all the parameters for the candidates. For instance, the task of marking the ‘Hard Gicheon Stone.’

‘Marking the Hard Gicheon Stone is a chore that is deceptively simple yet complex.’

It gauged the base attributes. It meant it gauged the base level. However, that was merely the ‘apparent requirement.’

‘A combined stat sum of 350. Or, it is also viable to leave a mark through unique circumstances.’

Even if one’s stats were lower or their level was beneath that, it was entirely possible to scar the Hard Gicheon Stone. Whether one utilized a specific piercing force, a counter-ability, or tapped into the element of water which opposed the earth… there were many paths. He had placed no specific limits on the tactic used to leave a mark.

‘What I crave is only talent.’

The level and attributes were irrelevant. If the raw power was lacking, one simply had to demonstrate the ingenuity to overcome the hurdle. The capacity itself to fix the problem by any means was talent. It was an examination designed to uncover that ‘talent.’ The tournament followed the same logic. If he were merely hunting for ‘power,’ a Transcendent would win without question.

The benchmark he sought was only one.

‘Talent that can shatter ceilings!’

He desired a prodigy who could surpass established boundaries. That was why he had partitioned the tournament as well—so that it would be managed according to specific tiers. Since the ‘Archangel’ of the Evil God Cult would personally watch and sort them, he only had to determine if the raw material he sought appeared. This meant that while combat power was vital, it was not the whole story. He could easily bridge any gaps in levels or attributes.

“A student, then…”

Lyca inhaled deeply. His chest was aching. Even if his end was near, he would not take just anyone as a student. If, by some turn of fate, there was no talent to his liking, he would proudly permit the lineage of the Eight Excellence to vanish. He had no desire whatsoever to let a mediocre individual inherit the Eight Excellence. The former masters of the Eight Excellence would undoubtedly feel the same way. Even in the afterlife, he could not tolerate such a sight.

However.

If a supreme prodigy appeared, wielding talent that could satisfy his standards.

‘I shall bequeath my everything.’