Chapter 309

Chapter 309
### Chapter 309

—

The Sanctuary of Honor

The Sanctuary of Honor was precisely what its title suggested—a sacred ground where those possessing true integrity carried out their traditional ceremonies. It served as a mandatory destination for anyone seeking to have their “status” formally validated. Whether it was a ruler governing vast domains seeking the title of King, or an individual aiming for the official rank of Hero or Noble, the rites at the Sanctuary of Honor were indispensable. This was particularly vital within the Empire during the Emperor’s prolonged dormancy; one had to confirm their standing at the Sanctuary to prove the depth of their righteousness and the weight of their character.

“There is nothing quite as hollow as this concept of ‘honor.'”

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Lyca spoke these words from atop his mount. At that moment, I was journeying away from the heart of the Empire in his company. For a delegation representing the prestigious Eight Houses, our caravan was remarkably sparse, consisting only of Lyca, myself, and our two horses. After a period of heavy silence, Lyca abruptly voiced his cynical view on the worthlessness of honor.

“What leads you to that conclusion?” I asked.

“Because a person is assigned a baseline of ‘honor’ simply by the circumstances of their birth. The offspring of Kings and the descendants of Nobles are gifted with far more ‘honor’ from the moment they draw breath than any commoner could hope for.”

It was a startling observation coming from a man like Lyca. As the Master of the Eight Houses and a figure of the highest standing in the Empire, he was openly critiquing the systemic injustice of their world. In the land of Pangenia, however, such “inequality” was viewed as the natural order. It wasn’t considered odd for one’s social rank and spiritual honor to be predetermined at birth. The disparity was even reflected in literal values; a typical human in Pangenia was born with zero honor, and I had heard that children of criminals might even start with a negative score. Conversely, those born into nobility or royalty began their lives with a minimum of 100 honor points.

“Is it not the expected order of things for the ‘honor’ earned by parents to be bequeathed to their children?”

“……It seems you share that conventional outlook as well.”

Lyca glanced at me, his expression tinged with a faint hint of letdown. Yet, my statement wasn’t factually wrong. This was the pillar upon which the stability of Pangenia rested: the legacy of both merit and transgression passing through bloodlines. It was the very reason people strived to conduct themselves with virtue—to benefit their lineage. One could hardly ignore the fundamental laws that governed their reality.

Lyca pressed on with his point.

“True honor should be a credential one earns through their own actions. Yet here, by mere accident of birth, one soul is sent into the darkness of a coal mine burdened by heavy karma, while another soars through the heavens without lifting a finger. Does that not strike you as fundamentally flawed?”

He was essentially describing a version of ‘Spoon Theory’—the divide between those born into struggle and those born into privilege. In Pangenia, however, the gap created by honor was far more profound than simple financial wealth.

“I don’t find it particularly strange,” I replied, shaking my head. A society of absolute equality was a myth; such a paradise existed nowhere. My blunt response caused Lyca to knit his brows in thought.

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I do. We strive to live with dignity and humanity so that we may be fathers our children can look up to with pride. However……”

“……”

“Beyond that, I believe that ‘opportunity’ is something that must be accessible to everyone equally.”

“Accessible opportunity?” Lyca repeated.

“If a person of humble origins possesses great talent but is denied even the chance to prove it, there is nothing more disgraceful than that.”

“……!”

Lyca’s eyes wavered. My perspective—that genuine honor lies in providing a path for the skilled, regardless of their station—clearly struck a chord within him.

“……Yes, you are right. That is indeed the height of dishonor.”

Lyca gave a slow nod, and the intensity in his gaze softened. A satisfied smile even touched his lips.

‘That caught me off guard.’

It was becoming clear that Lyca’s worldview diverged sharply from the typical aristocratic mindset. He wasn’t like the arrogant elites who practiced reflexive discrimination based on a person’s roots. Lyca’s metric for judgment was pure: he valued only ability and the will to exert effort.

‘He doesn’t simply despise those with less power; he feels contempt for those who refuse to try.’

He hated those who surrendered to their circumstances without a fight. This stance set him apart from the privileged class of Pangenia, who often mocked the very idea of ‘effort’ as a concept beneath them.

After a moment, Lyca spoke again.

“Furthermore, honor can be compared to a ‘sword.'”

“……?”

“The more you sharpen and care for it, the more brilliant and lethal it becomes. Even a blade covered in rust can be transformed into a shining weapon if one grinds it with enough dedication.”

“Does that not apply to most weapons, not just the sword?”

“A sword has two edges that must be honed. If you only focus on one, you destroy the balance of the weapon. It is only by refining both sides equally that a rusted scrap can become a masterpiece.”

He was using the metaphor of sword maintenance to further explain his philosophy on honor. But he wasn’t just talking about theory. His expression turned solemn as he continued.

“I am going to show you how to correctly sharpen both edges of your sword. I will do this even if the Sanctuary of Honor—even if ‘they’—refuse to acknowledge you.”

“……”

“I am committed to this. Because when someone possesses the necessary talent and drive, the only honorable thing to do is to grant them the opportunity they deserve.”

He was telling me I had that talent. It was an admission that stirred a specific emotion in me.

‘I’m starting to feel a sense of guilt.’

The man before me was unrecognizable from the executive of the Reaper Cult I had once encountered. Lyca’s dedication to me was genuine. I was seeing a side of his character that had been hidden from me until now, and that sincerity made me uneasy. It was because I was not being honest with him. I hadn’t expected Lyca to be this kind of person. Moreover—

‘Lyca has already seen through my cover.’

The matter of Adrium’s String. I had claimed to be from Adrium, but he clearly knew that was a fabrication. Yet, he had decided it didn’t matter, choosing to believe I had an honorable reason for the deception.

‘…I need to start being more sincere with him in return.’

While our bond started on a foundation of lies, I couldn’t exactly reveal the truth at this stage. His life force was waning; the light in his eyes was slowly dimming. But that reality allowed me to offer him a different kind of honesty. I could, at the very least, honor his hopes by becoming the person he wanted me to be. We were in a position where we both relied on one another regardless.

“……I will be a dedicated student,” I promised.

I decided then to embody the ‘hardworking genius’ he was looking for. It was the best tribute I could offer to Lyca.

—

—If a person of humble origins possesses great talent but is denied even the chance to prove it, there is nothing more disgraceful than that.

Hearing those words sent a spark through Lyca. It wasn’t just about the boy’s potential; Hyun actually shared his core values. In the entire Empire, Lyca had never found a single person who thought like him.

‘Is this a final blessing from the heavens before my time is up……?’

Hyun felt like a providential gift, perhaps granted out of divine pity for his approaching end. He was particularly moved because he could tell the boy wasn’t just saying what he wanted to hear.

‘His background is irrelevant.’

Adrium, the sacred city of the Goddess Religion—the boy’s claim to be from there was a lie. Hyun hadn’t been raised there. But it was obvious to Lyca that the boy had sought out Adrium to find the opportunity he had been denied elsewhere. Likely due to a low birth—perhaps as a commoner or something even lower—he had gone there to seize a future for himself.

Was that not a sign of great character? Most people let opportunities slip through their fingers, but Hyun had traveled to Adrium and taken his fate into his own hands.

‘There isn’t a single trace of Hyun’s past anywhere.’

Lyca wondered why that was. There were no records, no family ties, and no acquaintances to be found in the entire world. Even with the reach of Lyca’s intelligence network, the boy was a ghost. Which meant…

‘He was likely born a slave.’

There was a strong chance he shared Lyca’s own origins. Though there was no brand on his skin, Lyca knew better than anyone that there were many ways to heal the body and remove such marks. This realization made Lyca feel an even deeper connection to him.

Of course, if they reached the Sanctuary of Honor, the boy would likely be mocked for having a “pitiful” honor score. The Sanctuary might even shut its doors to him, as it was a place designed to gatekeep status based on quantified merit. The Eight Houses would certainly protest his rise, but Lyca saw this as his final mission—the first move toward reforming the Eight Houses and changing the world. Lyca had failed to change things, but Hyun was different. He had to be.

“From this point on, do not hold back. Face me directly.”

As they traveled toward the Sanctuary of Honor, Lyca began to mentor Hyun through regular sparring sessions. They had clashed many times by now, and Hyun was proving to be a natural, absorbing Lyca’s techniques like a sponge. The unique sword styles and intricate forms that no one else could ever replicate were being mastered by the boy with startling fluidity. Hyun was grasping the hidden depths and the very “will” behind Lyca’s strikes with ease.

It was a novel experience. Lyca couldn’t remember ever feeling this much joy in teaching.

Clang—!

The sound of their blades meeting was sharp and clear.

‘Is this what my Master felt when he was training me?’

Lyca caught himself smiling. Looking back, the previous Master of the Eight Houses—his own mentor—had always seemed happy during their lessons. He had been genuinely delighted. At the time, Lyca thought the old man just enjoyed watching him struggle, but he finally understood the truth. He had simply been happy to pass on his knowledge to Lyca.

Up until this moment, Lyca had viewed teaching as a chore and a waste of energy. No one had ever been able to keep up with him, and no one could truly understand the essence of his sword. They couldn’t see what he saw.

‘……He can actually see the grain.’

Every object and technique has a “grain” or a natural texture. Lyca could perceive this grain, knowing exactly where to strike to kill or where to cut to shatter an opponent’s balance. Hyun clearly possessed this same vision. However, there was a subtle distinction in how the boy applied it.

Lyca’s mastery was focused on “severing” the grain. Hyun, however, seemed to focus on “utilizing the flow” of the grain. Because of this, Hyun was less adept at the destructive severing technique, while Lyca realized he himself was less practiced in following the grain’s natural circulation.

‘The circulation of the grain. Harmonizing with the wavelength of existence……’

By teaching Hyun, Lyca was actually discovering his own shortcomings. He realized there was a different way—not just using an opponent’s momentum, but actually accepting their very essence. Had anyone else tried to show him this, Lyca would have dismissed it. But because it was a nuance displayed by Hyun—the person who had brought him the joy of mentorship—it resonated deeply. For the first time in his life, Lyca was truly trying to understand another person.

‘Ah……!’

It happened in an instant. As their swords clashed and Lyca attempted to bridge the gap of understanding between himself and Hyun, something that had been building within him finally overflowed. A tremor ran through Lyca’s entire body. He froze in place, their blades still locked together.

“……”

The world seemed to fall into a dead calm. With his eyes shut and his breathing so shallow it was nearly silent, Lyca stood perfectly still.

In that moment, Lyca had reached a state of total enlightenment.