Chapter 307

Chapter 307
Chapter 307

—

Another Ruin

The nature of a weapon generally changed based on its intended function. Moreover, even when dealing with the same category of armament, a warrior had to modify their approach depending on the specific artisan who forged it. Consider, for instance, a man wielding a blade. He might be a grandmaster of swordsmanship. However, if he were forced to use a sword other than his personal favorite, he would inevitably struggle to manifest his full mastery from the first second. Regardless of his expertise, and even if the weapon was of an identical type, no two blades were truly the same. The precise length, the thickness of the steel, and the ergonomics of the grip were always subject to variation.

‘This has to be his first time gripping these.’

The arsenal provided in this training area was designed exactly with that in mind. Each piece was unique. No two instruments shared the same measurements. They were tools crafted with intentional inconsistency to force a warrior to find flawless form under any condition. For someone picking them up for the first time, even basic synchronization should have been a grueling task.

‘And yet, he executed the movement and application perfectly…’

He sliced through the air. He identified the path where Lyca’s strike had passed and cut through the very essence of that wind. In a flash, he struck the ideal opening. Such a display was only achievable if one treated a weapon as a natural extension of their own anatomy. To perform this with a strange blade was theoretically impossible.

‘Is it pure genius?’

Genius. What did that word truly signify? A quality present from birth. A blessing from the heavens. The state of being inherently superior to one’s peers. Definitions varied, but in the end, genius was the total sum of techniques that could be refined to their peak. It was the beginning and the end. Some argued that diligence was the key, but in Lyca’s view, the capacity for diligence was itself a form of genius. Thus, to achieve excellence efficiently, innate talent was mandatory, and those who identified the gifts that matched their soul were the ones who rose to the top.

However, one did not label something that arrived fully realized as mere ‘talent.’ If that was the case…

‘He is already a finished product…’

The Adrium’s String that Lyca observed was a complete entity. The transition of movements, from the piercing lunge of the spear to the sweeping arc of the saber, flowed as effortlessly as a river. If anything, he had exceeded the very demonstrations Lyca had provided. The fundamentals were absolute. Spotless.

‘When our paths crossed at the Tower of the War God, he wasn’t at this level.’

The version of Hyun he had encountered during the trials at the Tower of the War God had not possessed this degree of skill. While he had been formidable for his lower ranking, the martial prowess he was showing now transcended the simple definition of being ‘powerful.’

‘……A transformation has occurred.’

Some fundamental shift must have taken place during his ascent of the Tower. Only now did Lyca truly scrutinize Hyun’s physical manifestation.

‘It is subtle, but his muscular development has been entirely restructured. It is balanced in a way that maximizes power storage. Even his facial features seem more defined…’

It was an anomaly. His physique exhibited flawless symmetry. Under normal circumstances, a human body is never perfectly balanced. Subconscious habits and physical leanings always result in slight asymmetries. No matter how high a practitioner climbed, even those who had shattered the boundaries of mortality to reach the highest heavens could never forge a perfectly centered body.

Yet, Adrium’s String defied this rule. His form was in total equilibrium. Neither side of his musculature was inferior or superior to the other. Even after Lyca studied him intently with his keen perception, the result remained the same. Was such a thing even achievable? Furthermore, Hyun’s features had sharpened significantly, and his complexion was radiant and smooth. There wasn’t a single flaw on his skin. To put it plainly, his appearance was striking.

‘So it wasn’t me, but this boy the servants were trying to catch a glimpse of?’

He thought back to their arrival at the training grounds. Reflecting on it, there had been numerous maids stealing looks as they passed. It seemed those admiring glances hadn’t been for Lyca at all, but for this young man, Hyun.

“Who was your instructor?”

The question escaped his lips involuntarily. To this, Adrium’s String gave his answer.

“……I was taught by someone who was my kin, my comrade, and my mentor.”

The words were heavy with nostalgia. A sense of permanent departure lingered in his voice. Lyca gave a slow nod.

“He must have been an exceptional individual.”

“He was.”

“Did you study the application of every type of armament?”

“No, that isn’t it.”

“Then what?”

“I only focused on the sword.”

…He had only mastered the blade?

“What about the polearm and the curved saber?”

“I never trained with them specifically.”

“……”

He truly hadn’t practiced them individually? It was a claim that was hard to process. Consequently, a test of validation was required.

“……The bow is next.”

Archery was an incredibly demanding discipline. If one lacked the training, even a basic imitation would be a failure.

Creak.

Lyca, having retrieved a bow, drew the string back toward the heavens. And then—

Snap!
Swish!

The projectile zipped through the atmosphere—

Thud!

It sank into the dirt immediately in front of Lyca’s position. It was so close that his own skull would have been split had it been aimed a fraction closer.

“Your turn.”

Lyca passed the bow he had just used. Hyun, taking the weapon, settled into a stance without the slightest hesitation.

Swish!
Thud!

…Identical to Lyca, the arrow buried itself right in front of him. However, upon closer inspection, there was a distinction. Lyca’s shot landed before his toes, but Hyun’s arrow was pinned exactly between his feet. That specific trajectory was impossible to hit by simply firing upward. It wasn’t just more precise than Lyca’s; it was a shot that defied standard physics. Lyca’s eyes widened in shock.

“Did you read the currents? No… did you anticipate the wind?”

“I did.”

“And you claim you never studied this?”

“I have pulled a bow a handful of times.”

…This was not the performance of a casual user. To fire an arrow into the sky and have it drop like that meant he had calculated the exact force of the wind that would exist when the arrow began its vertical descent. This was a feat that even a master archer who had spent decades in the field could not duplicate. Predicting future wind patterns was beyond the scope of a normal human mind.

It didn’t stop there. The hatchet, the blade, the mace, and every other tool—Hyun executed their use with total perfection. In the end, Lyca had no choice but to admit defeat. He understood that there was no point in laboriously teaching the basic weapon arts required to inherit the Eight Houses.

“……Pick up a sword.”

There was, however, one final test. If he claimed to only have mastered the sword, Lyca needed to see the true depth of that mastery.

Late that night. The Mound of the Eight Houses. A hidden sanctuary within the palace walls where the former leaders of the Eight Houses rested. Gazing at the monuments nestled beneath the lush trees, Lyca spoke.

“I offer my respect to the ancestors of the Eight Houses.”

Lyca, having lowered his head in a solemn bow, spoke once more.

“……My time is drawing to a close.”

He spoke of his passing with a strange detachment—the fact that he would soon take his place among them.

“This failure of a man could not fulfill the ancient objective of the Eight Houses, the Death of the Five Gates.”

In truth, no one had ever succeeded. Legend said even the founding patriarch of the Eight Houses perished after unsealing the Five Gates. Lyca had hoped he would be the exception, but he was no different. He had carried the pride of being the strongest, yet… Lyca turned his gaze to the tomb at the far end—the final resting place of the man who had been the previous head and his own teacher.

“Master, you always emphasized it. We had to locate the Vessel of the War God.”

Lyca shut his eyes. He had not been that Vessel. Even he, who was brought in despite fierce internal conflict, could not reach that goal. Slowly, Lyca reopened his eyes.

“I have located him, Master.”

The shadows of despair and grief had vanished from his eyes. He had finally found it—the Vessel of the War God. A man who was the living embodiment of the War God!

However, Lyca tightened his grip. He felt an immense joy. Yet, it wasn’t a pure happiness. Was it because he had met his superior? No. Lyca had already moved past his ego. He accepted that he wasn’t the pinnacle and that the horizon was vast. He had come to realize that there were other peaks beyond Wilhelm, Randolph, and the rest. It was simply…

“……That is why it hurts. That I am fated to die.”

…It was bitter to die now, to depart without having the chance to properly mentor him.

“Master, you shuttered the Eight Houses just to bring me into the fold. Even if it meant striking down every dissenter, even if it meant living in shame and solitude, you did it all for my sake.”

That had been a monumental cost. He had severed ties with family and friends, focusing entirely on Lyca. All to ensure Lyca became the heir. But with the Eight Houses closed, Lyca had wandered the Abyss… seeking validation. To prove he was a servant of the Empire! If not for that duty, Lyca would have explored the world instead of the darkness. He would have carved his name into history, reigned as the sole Knight King, and perhaps led a Great Crusade.

But the world gave him no credit.

“I will force them to acknowledge him. Even if I have to cut them all down before my breath leaves me. Even if I must rebuild the Eight Houses from nothing.”

With an iron resolve, Lyca bowed low.

“I shall enter the ‘Sanctuary of Honor’ and demand the rites.”

The formal ceremony to declare the official heir of the Eight Houses. The place where the clan had retreated and where the ‘distinguished ones’ assembled. Because of his status as a slave, he had never been allowed the proper ritual. Therefore, he had never been truly accepted by the Eight Houses. Because there was no honor granted to a slave.

But that was about to change. He would seize the recognition by force. Whatever the world thought no longer mattered. At that moment.

“What is this……?”

Lyca’s face instantly turned grim.

Vrooooooom—

An immense pressure radiated from the distance. A colossal malice that sent a shiver down the spine! It was far more terrifying than any of the hexes he had encountered within the Tower of the War God.

‘Has a Dark Deity been summoned?’

Lyca pivoted immediately and sprinted toward the source.

The actor. The one at the heart of it is me. I am Park Hyunmyeong. But it was undeniable that Randolph was also me, as our identities had merged entirely. And Wilhelm was also a presence that was worthy of being called kin, comrade, mentor, and ‘a different version of myself.’

“Path of Light……”

Back in my assigned quarters, I stared at a lone blade on a rack. The Path of Light. The unique-tier sword that had belonged to Wilhelm. I slowly withdrew the ‘Path of Light’ and gripped it. It felt as if it fused perfectly with my palm, like a part of my own body. That wasn’t the only thing. There was another relic beside it.

“Holy Path.”

It was the crimson mantle that completed the set with the Path of Light. After a long odyssey, it had finally come back to me. These two items were the most iconic symbols of Wilhelm’s legacy. Holding them made it feel as though Wilhelm was still standing there. It felt as if I could bring Wilhelm back to life if I managed to collect the rest of his gear. I lingered on them for a long time before setting them back.

‘The observers are gone.’

The lingering presence of spies that had been there moments ago had vanished. They had pulled back all at once, as if giving me some space. It was a perfect opportunity.

‘Now I can test the change.’

I had read the descriptions, but to be absolutely sure, I needed to attempt the transformation myself—into Randolph. Into the version of Randolph who had ascended as Another Ruin and the Primal Heavenly Demon. The Glove of Ill-Omen and the Glove of Ash were the keys that allowed me to ‘toggle’ between Park Hyunmyeong and Randolph. I stared at the Glove of Ill-Omen. And—

[Activating ‘Glove of Ill-Omen.’]
[Transitioning to ‘Randolph.’]

Whoosh!

A dense, heavy shadow erupted, and my physical form began to shift instantly. This was on an entirely different level than a simple glamour spell; it wasn’t just a mask, but a total fundamental change. Consequently, when the transformation into Randolph was complete—

Vrooooooom—

Energy surged out uncontrollably. A staggering demonic pressure radiated from my entire being! Since the Successor of the Stars class had been deleted, my true nature was now completely unhindered. …No, it was more than that. Even the darkness radiated by the ‘other Randolph’ I had fought at the peak of the Tower of the War God couldn’t touch my current state. It was incomparable to how I had been before entering the Tower. I couldn’t help but whisper a single word.

“……Insane.”