Chapter 297

Chapter 297
## One Who Is Nothing

A shout of support.

It was a gesture meant to grant power, a wish for a warrior to excel. Yet, throughout his entire existence, the “Dog-like God” had never offered a single word of kindness. In fact, there had been no acknowledgment at all. It was as if the deity was oblivious to his very soul. As he struggled, drowning in a bottomless pit of consciousness, the God had habitually looked the other way, almost in mockery of his suffering.

And yet.

‘Now, of all times…’

…Only after his life had ended.

The God had finally claimed his soul. Only in this moment did the encouragement begin. Why now? When he had craved it most, the God remained silent. He had carried out the divine will, reached unparalleled heights of power, and elevated the reputation of the Knight King to the heavens. Despite those feats, the God had denied his reality until the very end.

Was this sudden cheering merely a tool to ensure Randolph’s defeat?

‘Randolph, I understand.’

Wilhelm looked up calmly, fixing his gaze on Randolph. Here was a physical vessel inhabited by the Dog-like God, much like himself. The soul occupying that shell was certainly its true owner, yet Wilhelm sensed a fundamental corruption within it immediately.

‘It is Evil.’

That soul hadn’t been corrupted over time. It was “Evil” by its very nature. It had been born as malice, and so it remained. But this was a paradox. A human being is not born as pure evil. If such a creature existed—

“You are a half-being.”

Then it was incomplete. Not a whole person.

“……I am a half-being?”

Randolph’s face contorted the moment Wilhelm spoke. He couldn’t stomach the term “half-being.” Even though he had suffered defeat on the Island of the Gods and been cast into the Gate of Truth—

“I am the one who is whole. The sole ruler of this flesh!”

He had simply returned to his rightful throne. This time, his completion would be absolute. He had learned from his single loss. He refused to be dragged back to the “Gate of Truth.” That memory was a revolting, agonizing stain.

‘I won’t go back. Never again!’

Randolph shivered as the trauma flickered in his mind. But since it was in the past, he dismissed it as a bad dream. Furthermore, his journey through the “Gate of Truth” had refined him. For the first time, he felt truly stable.

Randolph stared at Wilhelm—the fool who dared call him a half-being. The idiot who lacked the vision to see the truth or the mind to comprehend it. Above all else.

“You are… Ah.”

Randolph smirked. Perhaps it was the clarity gained from the Gate of Truth, but he could see right through Wilhelm now. The reality of Wilhelm’s existence was laid bare—

“Aren’t you the actual half-being?”

The irony was rich. Sunken features, limbs that were nothing but bone and parchment-thin skin. He looked like a frightened child screaming in a dark hole, a broken shell of a man. Randolph snorted in contempt.

“Your flesh, your title, your pride, and even your thoughts. Do you own even a single piece of yourself?”

Nothing belonged to him. It never had. Could such a void truly be said to “exist”?

“You are nothing.”

“Ah.”

Wilhelm simply nodded, accepting the statement without struggle. He almost seemed satisfied. He spoke softly.

“Yes, I am nothing. A half-being.”

It was as if being a total void was preferable to being a fractured mess. Only then did Randolph realize why he felt so instinctively repulsed by the man.

“……It seems we are truly incompatible.”

The person before him was his exact opposite. Discussion was useless. Now, there was only one path forward—

*Sreung!*

The beginning of a terminal conflict between the void and the half.

—

The observers held their breath.

“……”
“……”

They stood frozen, eyes glued to the images displayed before them. Not a single Awakened could find their voice. The spectacle of Wilhelm’s ascent up the Tower was a profound shock to their systems.

He never faltered. He never broke. No matter the trials or the metaphorical storms that battered him, he pressed on in silence. Wilhelm’s strength exceeded their wildest guesses. He was resilient, profound, and fluid. He was a man who truly earned the mantle of Knight King—the mightiest warrior acknowledged by Lyca!

‘He is so powerful…’
‘Is that the price of such strength?’

Just observing him made their skin crawl with excitement and their hearts race. They were witnessing a level of martial skill they had never even imagined. Yet, that power came from a dark place. If they were in his shoes, could they have climbed that Tower? Could they have charged forward like a wounded beast, ignoring the scars on their bodies and souls?

‘I couldn’t.’
‘It’s impossible.’

The answer was clear. Even with the path laid out, they lacked the will. However, a spark was ignited in the hearts of those watching. A hunger to grow. A realization that they needed to be better. They felt a sudden urge to walk the same earth and stand as his equals.

But the peak was still to come. Finally, the 30th floor. Wilhelm reached the apex of the Tower of the War God.

“That is…”
“Randolph!”

The Eternal God Randolph was there. The peak entity who had dominated the “Hall of Fame” and held the top spot since his arrival. He was the catalyst for the chaos in the Tower of the War God, and simultaneously—

………That man was “Phantom.”

Unlike his opponent, Wilhelm was in a wretched state. He had reached the top through sheer tenacity, but his physical condition was horrifying. He was covered in wounds so deep they were hard to look at. No part of him remained unscarred. Death would have been a mercy. Any lesser man would have perished dozens of times over.

“…Is this where it ends?”
“No!”
“…Wilhelm!”
“Wilhelm!”

The crowd screamed his name. They had reached a point of total synchronization with him. They didn’t even realize they were wailing. Did their cries reach him?

《 ‘Dog-like God’ cheers for ‘Wilhelm’ using ‘Fragments of the Broken Golden Rule (20,000h)’. 》

An anonymous benefactor had supported Wilhelm with a massive 20,000 hours worth of fragments. Until now, the combined cheers of the Awakened had barely hit 2,000. Yet, someone had dropped ten times that amount without a second thought.

“Twenty thousand hours?”
“What?”
“Dog-like God?”
“Who is that?”
“A God is backing Wilhelm?”

Confusion swept through the crowd. 20,000 hours was an impossible sum for a single individual to hold, even for a deity. Yet, the miracle happened.

And Wilhelm became “whole.”

“Knight King……”

Saintess Seia’s eyes blurred. It wasn’t just the Awakened watching. Over half a million people who had once entered the Tower were tuned in. The image of the perfected Wilhelm mirrored the legend she had seen during the Great Expedition.

In this state, Wilhelm was invincible. He was the champion of humanity, the one who looked the Demon King in the eye without flinching. Paradoxically, Randolph now stood in the role of the Demon King—an entity of pure, overwhelming terror.

Then, it began.

“Ah……!”

The two forces collided.

—

I think. Therefore, I am. Even if I am “the one who is nothing.” Wilhelm was a reality; he was present in this moment.

“You are quite impressive, Wilhelm.”

*Chwa-aaaaang!*

…The steel sang.

Each time their blades met, the impact vibrated through his very essence. Randolph’s strikes were capable of shattering space itself. He unraveled Mysteries and erased existence. He was a ruinous force, a man who embodied destruction.

“Even on the ‘Island of the Gods,’ no one stirred my blood like this!”

Randolph was genuinely surprised. The Abyss Lords and ancient horrors he had fought on the Island were undeniably powerful, but they lacked something. They felt incomplete, like machines missing a vital gear.

The “Whale of the Heavenly Axis,” the “Unborn Being,” and the “Sunken Emperor” had been somewhat entertaining. The “Sunken Emperor” was particularly notable for how he used swarms of insects to threaten a master of the Truth like Randolph.

The Unborn Being had been an unnervingly chaotic opponent. He never expected to fight something so fundamentally wrong again. The Whale had the power, though she lacked the spirit for combat. He respected her, but she didn’t thrill him.

The rest were forgettable. But Wilhelm?

‘He surpasses them all, even while being a void.’

Wilhelm was the ultimate anomaly. He was “one who is nothing,” a man devoid of everything. And yet, he set Randolph’s pulse racing. Why?

‘It is flawless.’

It was the blade. Wilhelm was defined solely by the sword. Because of that, his technique had no openings. His style approached the perfection Randolph had always sought. It held a pure, unyielding justice. He wanted it for himself.

But a question lingered.

‘How can a style this refined be something I’ve never encountered?’

The Gate of Truth houses all perfected things. If this swordsmanship were truly complete, it should have been recorded there, yet Randolph had never seen its like.

‘This isn’t even a technique anymore. It’s a phenomenon.’

It was perfect, yet it didn’t feel like mere swordsmanship. It was a power wearing the skin of a martial art. There was something deep inside the strikes. But was that possible? For a sword to carry something else entirely? If it were something common, he wouldn’t be this shocked.

*Chaeng! Cha-e-eng!*

The longer they fought, the more certain he became.

‘…I’m losing ground?’

……He was being pushed back. It was unthinkable. He was the man who had stood unopposed since the Island of the Gods. He was the apex, the definition of the “strongest.”

Yet, he was retreating. Forced back by Wilhelm’s blade. By that specific style.

‘The technique itself is overpowering me. Something greater than the man is forcing me back!’

This was a moment where some massive conceptual status had merged with Wilhelm and turned into the sword itself. If such a status existed, it had to be in the Gate of Truth. He should have known it on sight.

And yet, he was blind to it. No matter how he analyzed it, it remained a mystery. Having just left the Gate, he should have been omniscient.

There was only one exception. If it was something he was forbidden to know—something that wasn’t allowed in that place. Randolph’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“You…… who gave you this sword?”

……The truth was starting to dawn on him. This wasn’t something Wilhelm could have invented. Even if a man who was nothing practiced for a billion years, he could never reach this level of mastery alone.

“Where? How? Did you actually meet ‘him’?”

It was impossible. It defied the laws of the world. He had been wrong. If his current suspicion was right—Wilhelm wasn’t just a void.

Finally, Wilhelm spoke.

“In the Nabelung Forest.”

……He confirmed it. During those thirty days trapped in the woods. When he swung his sword purely to stay alive. When he was clawing through his own psyche to find himself.

“The one who challenged the heavens in the ancient past, and was erased from existence as a result.”

The true original void.

……He had met him.