Chapter 150
Half a year later.
"Is this the place."
A grand tower soaring high.
Agathodo.
A new stranger who found that place.
The pilgrim shuddered as they looked at the towering tower.
Seeing the tower standing upright for over a thousand years made them well aware that this was a sacred ground.
"The tower's trials..."
"Come now, Roland. Let's go in together. It's too uneasy going alone."
"Is that alright?"
"Anyway, there are twelve masters scattered throughout Agathodo. They say they naturally adjust the trials according to the number of challengers, so it doesn't matter!"
"Oho! Then it doesn't matter! Let's go together."
Agathodo, which had stood for a long time.
They knew well enough about the tower's first floor trial from hearsay.
The wooden puppets that appear.
And the darkened field of vision.
A limited battle where one must fight using only hearing and qi-sense that must be exerted there.
But they were confident.
Of course.
Until they opened the door to the first floor.
"Hmm?"
"It's bright?"
Unlike their resolve when entering with tension, the first floor was illuminated by torches.
A fairly spacious area.
But there was nothing there.
Clearly there was nothing.
"Huh?"
Clank, clank.
Knights wearing black armor appeared. Ten black knights appearing without any sign, to the point of wondering where they had been.
The ten black knights stood side by side in front of the challengers, each holding their weapons.
The trial bestowed upon them was battle.
Only battle.
"Argh! Oww!!"
The black knights' skills were strong.
They were on par with one pilgrim.
But with ten of such beings, not only were they outnumbered, but their coordination was so perfect that they couldn't even mount a proper counterattack.
'They say no warrior can stand against a gang!'
That's right.
The first floor's trial was a many-against-one trial.
A trial of group fighting.
How painfully they struck.
They beat their sides with wooden swords and wooden spears without causing wounds, and pounded their skulls with spear shafts—it hurt enough to make one cry.
"Kraagh!"
"Keuk!"
Of course.
They were Callius's Ashen Legion.
Among them, the regular knights.
* * *
Rustle, rustle.
Agathodo.
The top floor of the tower.
Behind the shade provided by the pillar.
Callius was sitting at a large table, leaning back as he whittled a stick.
Beside him were scattered numerous wooden swords, all of which he had whittled.
That's right.
Callius proved to the tower's master.
His strength. Showed his will.
And he wanted.
Orbire's sword that countered Jaeyuhwa.
'Bitmuri.'
To experience it several times.
So the price of accepting her proposal was exactly this.
"Damn it."
Callius was whittling wooden swords because he had broken her wooden sword.
This was for the Iron Lord.
Now it was a wooden sword for the knights belonging to the Sword, so imbued with Callius's colors that the Iron Lord could now be called the Ashen Lord.
"My eyes weren't wrong after all. Just suffer a little more now. Your skill at whittling wooden swords has improved remarkably too."
Orbire, sitting beside him, laughed heartily as she whittled a wooden sword.
Orbire's proposal.
It was the lending of his army.
In other words, becoming the temporary administrator of the tower.
When Callius led the Ashen Army up the tower.
He broke every single wooden puppet without exception.
Because of that, the tower had a problem providing trials, and Orbire, knowing he wanted something from her, used that point to replace Callius's Ashen Legion as the tower's trial puppets.
Of course, the result wasn't bad.
'I hear many can't even break through the first floor.'
Of course, it wasn't like that from the beginning.
He had said that the level of regular knights was similar to the empire's regular knights.
So they weren't strong from the beginning.
But in just half a year, the knights on the first floor grew remarkably.
Half a year's growth.
With that, the level itself gradually rose.
But Orbire didn't mind.
Since he would be leaving anyway.
Now the original training wooden puppets were almost restored.
Callius grew his army.
Orbire was good because she could continue the tower's trials.
It was a so-called win-win.
[Ashen Legion Roster]
Supreme Commander ―
Grand General ―
High General: 2
General: 16
Elite Knights: 659
Regular Knights: 514
347 regular knights grew into elites.
From those elites, two regained their original skills as generals.
General-level knights also regained some of their lost power during this half year.
The High Generals were the same.
It was an amazing achievement.
If they had wielded real swords instead of wooden swords and slain enemies, they would have achieved more growth.
But this place was a sacred ground.
A place where killing was forbidden, so it couldn't be helped.
'It's an achievement that more than makes up for that.'
The army grows stronger.
They don't even die.
Of course, once they regain all their power from when they were alive, growth itself would stop or flow slowly after that, but this didn't matter.
"Your comrades have climbed up quite a bit too."
"Because I'm having them train intensively."
Comrades meant Serena, Aldu, and Philo.
They initially struggled on the 30th and 40th floors, but over the past half year, the Ashen Legion helped them train intensively.
So now Serena was on the 60th floor, Aldu was in the early 50th floor, and Philo was in the late 50th floor.
As expected of those with high potential, their growth rate was higher compared to others.
Perhaps with just one more month, Serena might break through the wall, and Aldu and Philo would also grow more.
Above all, Philo's growth was remarkable.
I thought he was a madman for cutting off his tail to sell, but his potential was indeed high.
Compared to having the lowest average skill, the enlightenment he gained seemed extraordinary.
Moreover, the past half year was not a bad time for Callius either.
Being with the tower master, Orbire.
He learned many things.
How to breathe.
How to discard habits.
How to empty the mind.
And how to fill it anew.
Shallow theories about her swordsmanship, etc.
It was a time of learning much by watching.
But if you ask whether Callius made tremendous growth, that's not the case.
He was learning how to use what he originally had more efficiently.
From the beginning, the balance of mind, qi, and body was poor.
So when using power, he trained his mind and body to adjust its distribution and avoid excessive consumption.
Most of those began with meditation.
Day by day, whittling wooden swords.
Looking at the blue sky.
Facing the rising sunlight as it was, gazing at the cold air and twinkling stars of the night sky, he solidified his mental image and whittled wooden swords.
Of course.
Only to spar with Orbire using those wooden swords and be defeated time and time again.
'A saint is a saint, after all.'
Basic swordsmanship.
Understanding of the sword.
Purity of divine power.
Method of utilizing divine power.
All of them exceed Callius.
A saint whose quality of divine power itself is classified as special grade, exceeding first grade.
The quality itself is different divine power.
No matter how much Callius uses the remnant that binds three energies together.
It was still not enough to overcome a saint's divine power.
Moreover, she could be called a transcendent just with her manipulation of divine power.
Not a handful of divine power was wasted, and even while sitting beside him, she constantly emitted no aura.
She was just like an ordinary person.
'No, she feels like a person who isn't there.'
Should I say a presence similar to nature.
It's even more so when whittling wooden swords.
When she whittles wooden swords as if becoming one with nature, there were many times he flinched because she felt like a person who didn't exist in this world at all.
He had asked once.
Why she was here.
Where she was born and raised was Carpe, and the god she serves is Valterus.
It was a question of why she doesn't help, even though she should know well that they are being persecuted by the empire.
'What did she say again.'
Orbire looked up at the sky for a moment and answered his question.
"A god is... just a god."
Many meanings were implied.
Callius couldn't understand at first.
But now, half a year later.
He felt like he finally understood a little of its meaning.
She has no sword.
All she has is a wooden sword.
Orbire is a saint and a pilgrim.
At the same time, she is also the master of the tower.
To such her.
Even Carpe or the God of Swords makes no big difference.
The meaning of this was complex and at the same time simple and clear, making it hard to explain.
What he barely understood was:
The land I stand on is my hometown.
What I hold is a sword but it is not a true sword, and since god is heaven, wherever I go, as long as I have a heart toward god, that place is a religious order and a sacred ground—he interpreted it to mean.
To put it simply.
'Whether it falls or not, it's none of my business.'
Looking at Orbire speaking like that, Callius recalled her setting.
Saint.
Arrogance.
But also a being with compassion in place.
That's why Orbire wanted what she held to be a sword but not a true sword.
This was the arrogance of refusing the god's power, and also lay in her pity for the souls held as collateral.
Among them, if you ask why a wooden sword.
"It's easy to make."
Such an answer came back.
Should I say she's a person you know but don't know.
"Callius."
"What."
"Why do you want to become strong? The source of power is but fleeting."
"Why do you think so?"
"A god... merely exists. The empire babbles about having the sacred relics held by the gods of arms absorbed by Lactus, the God of Creation, to make him the chief god and conquer the Land of Corruption, but will that really work? I think not."
"......"
"A god merely exists. Such tricks won't cause a god's power to be split, forgotten, and disappear. Even those fools cry out for the spear, but they don't ignore the utility of the sword or the efficiency of the axe. It means they'll be used somehow, whatever the case."
Even if the true sword disappears, swords are used.
Because they were made to be used.
Therefore gods will not be forgotten.
Even if the current religious orders and nations fall, they will rise again as time passes.
"So you're saying it's fleeting."
"Not only that. Do you know how a god becomes a god?"
"A god is a god because it's a god."
"There's something that overlaps in the teachings of other gods. Whatever god it is, this item is essential. Do you know what it is?"
"...What is offered to a god. You mean?"
"Yes. Whatever god. Among all arms, they offer what can be called the best. Such teachings are an essential part of any religious order. Have you ever thought about why that is?"
Callius didn't answer.
He just remained silent.
Despite his ambiguous attitude, Orbire opened her mouth without much suspicion.
"There's practically no divine art that offers arms to a god. But I have often seen and heard of those called saints disappearing from the world."
What could be the reason.
What message did she want to convey to Callius.
This was probably doubt.
A doubt that was merely a reasoning without conviction.
Impious faith toward a god.
For such a person to be a saint couldn't be more lamentable.
Of course, if it were someone else.
"Did I ever mention that I was an Inquisitor before?"
"An Inquisitor? Dismiss that as nonsense. If they were such madmen, I misjudged you."
"It's from the past."
"Then never mind."
The conversation fizzled out with a hollow laugh.
But Callius well understood the context and core of this conversation.
-Where do saints go-
-Why does such a teaching exist-
Callius recalled Stella.
The first saintess.
She suddenly disappeared one day.
Even among the saintesses of the next generation, those who were remarkably outstanding were similar.
Callius also recalled Fatalité as the chain of thoughts connected.
But he soon shook it off.
This is, in this world, only.
The answer only he knows.
It wasn't time to bring it out of his mouth yet.
"You whittle them quite usably now."
Callius, having finished whittling a wooden sword, held it and swung it.
The balance was quite good.
After whittling only wooden swords for half a year, he felt like his skill had improved considerably.
Callius took that.
Held the smoothly whittled wooden sword and headed toward Orbire.
"Use Bitmuri. I will unfold Jaeyuhwa once again."
"Impudent fellow. My Seonggwanggeom is not a technique that can be seen just because you want to see it. Don't you know even Felice becomes a gentle puppy in front of me?"
"I'm merely fulfilling the promise."
The past half year.
His being here was purely Orbire's proposal and promise.
But now the time was gradually coming.
"This time I will break it."
Orbire's life-defining ultimate technique.
Bitmuri.
The sword that erases all the ash contained in Callius's Jaeyuhwa with light.
Now, half a year later.
Callius challenges once again.
"There's nothing wrong with that."
And that day.
Callius left the sacred ground.
* * *
The top floor of the tower.
The 61st floor master holding a bell beside Orbire who was alone.
Orbana approached.
"Has he left?"
"Yes."
The tower master's eyes gazing at the distant horizon were deep.
Orbana couldn't know whether she was following him who couldn't be seen or what.
"Where did he go?"
"...Are you thinking of leaving?"
"Yes. It seems the time has come for me to experience the secular world too."
"It's not because you're angry about being crudely stepped on by that guy, is it?"
"......"
Orbana didn't refute it.
"Alright. You're coming of age now, so it's about time. Go. He..."
Since he headed for the empire.