Chapter 293

Chapter 293
## Chapter 293

—

The Genesis of the World

Pliability triumphs over raw power.

That sentiment was only partially accurate. While there was no ceiling to strength, softness possessed distinct boundaries. Furthermore, preserving a state of fluidity demanded significantly more toil and focus than maintaining brute force.

Wilhelm’s combat style was the epitome of that philosophy—a method of engagement that seized control of the battlefield and then turned an adversary’s own momentum against them.

‘True absolute strength can exist, but absolute softness is a myth.’

Objects that strike and shatter eventually erode. Although redirection was considered a pinnacle martial art—using a mere spark of energy to deflect a forest fire—the mental tax required for a single perfect reflection was staggering. Additionally, because it forced the anatomy to function in unnatural ways, the joints and spirit would eventually disintegrate from the friction of combat, regardless of one’s resilience.

In contrast, what of his own nature? It was a power without a horizon. Each blow he struck only served to bolster his potence. This was the foundation of his certainty.

Beyond that, there was another observation.

‘He is stationary. No, he is incapable of true movement.’

A single exchange had provided all the necessary data. Even in a moment where a lethal wound could have been dealt, Wilhelm had only managed to graze him. This confirmed that the opponent was suppressing all physical motion that didn’t directly relate to the immediate incoming strike.

In essence.

‘A counter-specialist. He is dedicating every fiber of his being to that solitary purpose.’

The man remained rooted. It had been his strategy from the jump. He did nothing but react to the aggression sent his way. Sansha, who had ignited his full power from the start, had effectively sprinted toward his own demise.

And yet, the question remained: why? Why would someone of such caliber limit himself to mere ‘countering’?

“Are you perhaps struggling to inhabit that vessel?”

“······.”

Wilhelm offered no rebuttal. The assessment was accurate. Even though he had secured a ten-hour window of existence by anchoring himself to Park Hyunmyeong’s physical shell, the ten Golden Rules, and the divine essence of Karas—

‘It is not enough.’

Inhabiting the flesh of another was an ordeal of immense complexity, even for a legend like Wilhelm. To make matters worse, he lacked every piece of his signature panoply. This was a hollow resurrection. Every component was a shadow of its former self; nothing was as it should be.

Though the Golden Rules had molded the vessel into Wilhelm’s likeness, it remained a borrowed skin. That was the root of the insufficiency. The flesh lagged behind the command of the soul. The minute discrepancies in stature, the lag in neuromuscular response—these flaws hampered the execution of his surgical swordsmanship.

‘No, these are merely rationalizations.’

Wilhelm quickly dismissed the thought. He chided himself, labeling these complaints as nothing more than excuses. The wretched God had piloted this body with seamless grace. He had operated without a single tremor of error, achieving impossible feats. If that entity could master it, then Wilhelm could as well. He required no assistance from a dog-like deity.

“I shall grant you the time to synchronize. I prefer to face you at the height of your capabilities.”

“I decline.”

Wilhelm dismissed Lyca’s courtesy without a second thought. Hardships of this magnitude didn’t even register as obstacles to him. He tilted his chin up, meeting Lyca’s gaze with unwavering intensity.

‘The Premier Blade of the Empire.’

His fame had reached Wilhelm’s ears long ago. He was the architect of imperial expansion who had braved the Abyss, a man whose name was perpetually linked with Wilhelm’s when debating the world’s apex.

He, Wilhelm himself, and every spectator to this clash shared the same burning curiosity. Who held the superior edge? Who truly stood at the summit?

“Then······ there is no other way.”

*Whoosh!*
*Rumble!*

The crimson aura permeating Lyca’s frame erupted with the violence of a tectonic shift.

“Opening the Second Gate (I-mun).”

The First Gate granted total dominion. The Second Gate bestowed the velocity of a lightning strike. Yet, he did not pause there.

*Vroooom!*

“Opening the Third Gate (Sam-mun).”

The energies that had surged like a volcanic plume retracted, condensing back into Lyca’s form. Reaching the Third Gate rendered his physical body the most indomitable substance in existence. In this state, Lyca bordered on the divine. He was a force capable of slaughtering the sovereigns of the Abyss without distinction.

*Snap!*

As he dropped into a low stance, the sound of his muscles compacting rang out like a coil spring.

*Zip—!*

Lyca vanished instantly, though his absence lasted only a heartbeat.

*Clang!*

Lyca’s blade slammed into Wilhelm’s defense, rattling his posture. His sword pulsed with high-frequency tremors, darting toward Wilhelm’s throat in a blurred arc.

*Screech!*

The steel faces ground against each other, producing a high-pitched, agonizing wail. Wilhelm attempted to divert this overwhelming momentum, but parrying a blade vibrating at such extreme speeds was a daunting task. Even a successful parry failed to open a window to strike Lyca’s reinforced body. Instead, it only served to drain Wilhelm’s own vitality.

Still, the act of merely surviving the onslaught was staggering. No one had ever managed to halt his blade while the Third Gate was fully unleashed. Simply tracking his movements at this speed was a feat bordering on the miraculous.

A thin smirk touched Lyca’s mouth.

‘I wonder how long you can endure, Wilhelm.’

—

* What’s happening?
* I can’t tell… everything is moving too fast.
* Is Wilhelm actually losing ground?
* Was Lyca the true number one all along?

The digital forums were in a frenzy once more. This was a clash of kings, a duel where the next second was a total mystery. As the minutes ticked by, however, it seemed as though Wilhelm was being slowly overwhelmed. Soon, a wave of analytical posts flooded the boards.

* It’s obvious why Wilhelm is struggling. Lyca is at his absolute zenith, while Wilhelm is fighting without any of his legendary gear.
* Oh, that’s right. Everything he owned was stripped and put up for sale in the Golden Rule Shop.
* He’s missing all those Unique-grade set bonuses. He’s essentially fighting handicapped.
* How many Unique items does Lyca have equipped?
* Based on public data, at least five. Probably more hidden away.
* Man, that gear disparity is soul-crushing.
* You can’t just skill your way past a gap that big.
* Isn’t it more insane that they’re still trading blows like this despite the equipment difference?

The influence of Unique-grade gear on a fight was monumental. When the gap was this lopsided, pure technique reached a breaking point.

* I don’t care, I’m still backing Wilhelm.
* The absolute legend Wilhelm—the guy who organized the Great Expedition alone and charged in when everyone else stayed home.
* For real, there hasn’t been anyone in Pangenia as principled as him.
* I used to think he was just one of Phantom’s alts… but wasn’t Wilhelm the actual heart of the Phantom Cult?

The mystery of Phantom was a constant topic of debate. Yet, at the center of the tales that turned Phantom into a myth, Wilhelm was always there. Had the Great Expedition borne fruit, he would have been a god for all eternity. Both in the past and the present, Wilhelm was the lone voice that championed the crusade into the Demon Realm.

The man who braved the terrors of that dark world while fully aware of the stakes. Many players felt a sudden pang of shame regarding the hero who had risked his life while they watched.

* If I’d known this would become our reality and not just some game…….
* I never would have made a sport out of ‘hunting Phantom’ or messing with Wilhelm.
* We owe you an apology, Wilhelm.

Had they known that the horrors of Pangenia would manifest on Earth—that the demon tide would actually come—they would have acted differently. Trolling a character that seemed like Phantom’s subordinate or sabotaging Wilhelm’s trials would have been unthinkable. They would have rallied behind his desperate gamble.

But during the Great Expedition, the world was merely a playground to them. The nightmare had only begun the moment the expedition failed.

* Wilhelm! You have to take this!
* Don’t you dare fall here!

One by one, the spectators began to send their strength to Wilhelm.

—

Support began to coalesce. Divine favor surged. The trickle of encouragement swelled into a tidal roar.

《 User ‘WhatAreYouDoingTonight’ supports ‘Wilhelm’ with ‘Fragment of the Broken Golden Rule (50m)’. 》
《 User ‘Touss Tance’ supports ‘Wilhelm’ with ‘Fragment of the Broken Golden Rule (1h)’. 》
《 User ‘IWillNotGoToTheTempleToday’ contributes to ‘Wilhelm’ with ‘Fragment of the Broken Golden Rule (3h)’. 》
《 User ‘Poppin Hyunjun’ supports ‘Wilhelm’ with ‘Fragment of the Broken Golden Rule (21m)’. 》
《 User ‘HeartOfABeast’ supports ‘Wilhelm’ with ‘Fragment of the Broken Golden Rule (2h)’. 》

······.
······.

The notifications were relentless. Within heartbeats, a thousand hours’ worth of Golden Rule fragments had been amassed. And in response to that collective offering—

《 The armament’s visage is temporarily summoned via ‘Soul Memory.’ 》
《 1,000 hours of Golden Rule fragments coalesce to manifest the ‘Path of Light.’ 》

*Flash!*

The weapon in his hand shifted. The Path of Light. The very blade Wilhelm had buried in the heart of the Demon King. Though it was merely a temporary manifestation granted by the fragments, it was sufficient. It would endure for the duration of his climb up the Tower.

‘At last, I can move with precision.’

As his fingers curled around the familiar hilt, his flow returned. The synchronization with his body smoothed out. His spirit and the flesh became a singular entity.

This transformation wasn’t solely due to the divine buffs. These people were cheering for him—for the man, Wilhelm. Perhaps that was the catalyst. Only now did he feel capable of unleashing his true art.

‘Cheon (Heaven).’

The first pillar of the Genesis Technique. A style that dictated the fight by seizing control of the surrounding space. But it went deeper. It was the power to read an opponent so thoroughly that one essentially became them.

‘Ji (Earth).’

The second pillar. A martial form that harmonized with and shattered any incoming force. Yet, it wasn’t just about negation. It was about achieving a resonance with the enemy, understanding the totality of their existence. That was the soul of the strike.

‘Gae (Open).’

The third pillar. The blade that carves open the firmament. An authority that allowed the user to step beyond the constraints of space and the opponent, becoming the focal point of the universe. In this state, one could speak to the very fabric of reality. One became, in effect, a God.

And.

‘Byeok (Creation).’

To build the world anew.

—

From the second the ‘Path of Light’ appeared, everything about Wilhelm—his posture, his aura, his very essence—was rewritten. But the most profound shift was in his—

‘Blade-craft.’

The trajectory of his strikes. The paths of the sword appeared identical on the surface, yet the weight of authority behind them had transformed. The status of his weapon and the gravity of his presence had ascended.

‘······What is this?’

Lyca searched for an opening and found none. Every offensive he launched was neutralized. He was being read—completely and utterly exposed. It felt like being stripped bare under a midday sun. As if peering into the future, Wilhelm anticipated every single movement Lyca intended to make.

But precognition wasn’t the answer. Wilhelm was vibrating in perfect harmony with him.

‘Is he insane?’

An oath hissed through Lyca’s teeth. To resonate with an adversary meant to grasp their very soul. But it is said that a man cannot truly know the depths of even a shallow stream. For one person to perfectly comprehend another was a feat even a deity would find impossible. Unless that person abandoned their own ego entirely and devoted their entire mind to absorbing their surroundings without pause······.

Even if one tried, the mental energy required was astronomical. Only a being of pure ‘spirit’ could hope to achieve it! Only a soul that had spent an eternity observing the world without the distractions of a body or physical movement could even attempt such a thing.

This man was not right. He was something else entirely.

“Argh!”

He was being crushed. The “Empire’s First Sword” was being suffocated. The man hailed as the greatest scion of the Eight Excellences felt a massive wall rising before him with every clash of steel.

It defied logic. How could a stranger decipher and dismantle the techniques he had spent a lifetime perfecting? If such a thing were possible, the label of ‘genius’ didn’t go far enough. It would require someone who had bled and toiled more than he had.

But if someone had invested that much effort, they would naturally possess a fierce attachment to their own identity. They should have been fundamentally incapable of the self-erasure required to resonate so perfectly with another.

···He was broken. This man, Wilhelm, was warped to a terrifying degree.

‘Opening the Fourth Gate (Sa-mun).’

In desperation, Lyca pushed further. This was the threshold of self-destruction, a power capable of slaying divinity itself. By opening the Upper Dan-jeon, he gained the transcendent perception to read the world through a divine lens.

And yet.

‘I still······ cannot win?’

He looked around. There was only shadow. He had been consumed by Wilhelm’s presence before he even realized it, caught in the micro-seconds between their blades.

But he had one final card. The Fifth Gate (O-mun). If he triggered it, he might snatch victory, though it would cost him most of his remaining lifespan.

Lyca hesitated, his body racked with tremors. He looked up at the insurmountable barrier blocking his path. This swordsmanship······ Wilhelm’s art.

The man hadn’t even shown his full hand yet. This wasn’t the entirety of his soul in the blade. And despite that.

‘He has already surpassed me.’

······The time for denial had passed. Isabella’s conviction had been well-founded. He finally understood why she hadn’t blinked when declaring who the stronger warrior was.

Knight King Wilhelm. The title was earned. This man truly was the pinnacle.