Chapter 211
Even a Saint who once dominated an era cannot avoid death.
Just as it is a natural principle for a blooming flower to wither, rising and setting is the natural order of things.
Like how beasts leave behind their hides when they die, and humans leave behind their names.
A mortal standing before death wishes to leave something behind at the end of their life.
Proof that they lived.
"I don't know why. I can only say it is the way of feeble human instinct standing before the great order of death."
I silently listened to Demetri muttering with a bitter expression.
Death.
At that familiar yet unfamiliar word, I looked at Demetri again.
The cave walls were reddish from the dim but soft campfire, and the temperature inside was comfortably warm.
Demetri's face warming by the fire was covered with thick eyebrows and a beard, but between them, I saw his haggard wrinkles and cloudy eyes.
An aged old man for whom it wouldn't be strange to drop dead at any moment. I thought that was Demetri's objective appearance.
He was facing death.
"The world only teaches us the value of life and the etiquette for the dead. It does not teach us how to accept death. Why do you think that is?"
At Demetri's question, I pondered.
It was probably a logic based on instinct.
Humans, no, all living things instinctively fear death.
Although there are some who have temporary emotions that suppress it for a moment, universally, they fear death.
This is the instinct of living creatures.
"Because they fear it."
"That's right. Because they are scared. I think this, too, is God's consideration. Without the feeling of fear, the emotion of terror, wouldn't we not know the value of our own lives and use them trivially or harm others? I thought God did so out of a heart that cherishes the creations He made."
Just as it is easy to harm a person but difficult to save one, God's arrangement resides everywhere in our lives.
Those who follow Him try to awaken to God's consideration and compassion permeating through life.
For knowing God's will is the same as knowing the truth.
"But now I'm not so sure. Isn't there a saying? No hero can stand against time. When the fellow called time flows, the brave generals who shed hot blood disappear without a trace, leaving only old men who distance themselves from uproar and battlefields."
Crackle, crackle.
The smoke from the blazing campfire was dizzying.
The quietly burning flames swayed this way and that with each of his sighs.
It seemed as if it was mocking Demetri, who had withered before time.
There is an old saying.
'The sword is infinite, but life is finite.'
It meant that the path of the sword has no end, but in comparison, a human's lifespan is short.
Demetri at this moment was just like that.
A human with a lifespan as fleeting as an instant compared to other long-lived species.
Because he lived a life like a match that burned quickly and faded away, he was a being who sought to burn even more fiercely.
"Flowers are beautiful because they bloom and fall in an instant, right?"
If they bloomed endlessly, one wouldn't know their beauty, and would simply pass by them like the lush weeds that always bloom by the roadside.
"Is that why?"
"That is right."
That was why he decided to make a Holy Relic.
"The ends of those who became Saints are quite similar. Do you know a bit about it?"
"I know roughly."
The end of Saints is divided into three types.
Simply put: Eternal Sleep. Holy Land. Holy Relic.
Entering eternal sleep while keeping the divine power cultivated throughout their life intact.
Dying as is, sleeping while praying to meet God, is the first.
It is the path chosen by the majority of Saints as their original intention, but it is a path walked only by a small number among the Saints of their generation who possess great skill, ambition, and unwavering faith.
And the second is the Holy Land.
Those who feel a shred of hesitation in witnessing God or feel they lack something try to repent for their sins in their later years.
Thus, they turn a region into a Holy Land so that God's power may reach the continent even a little more.
It is easy to understand if you think of Phatalite in the Sunken Forest of the North.
And finally, the third.
Approaching with a mind similar to those who make Holy Lands is the Holy Relic.
They are those who try to create a Holy Relic with the power they have built up throughout their lives.
It is also a slightly different case from the Saints explained earlier.
'Those who try to make a Holy Relic...'
Are also those who have caught a hint of God's secret.
"You probably have a rough idea. Those who try to make Holy Relics are generally those who have no face to see God. Yet they fear death and want to announce that they lived—hypocritical bastards."
"……"
"But still, I want to make one. Because I am not as resolute as the great heroes of a thousand years ago. Because even if I am called a Saint, I am ultimately just a human."
At his calmly poured out self-deprecation, I lost my words.
Demetri, former Pope.
Even if he was the Pope of a small nation, his anecdotes are not easy to dismiss.
There was never a major battlefield where his name was absent, and during his prime, even the Empire kept a close eye on him, wary while simultaneously paying him the utmost respect.
When such a figure belittled himself as ultimately just a human, I had nothing much to say.
Yet, I couldn't say he was wrong either, because it wasn't exactly a false statement.
"So, a Holy Relic?"
"That is correct."
"Isn't there the Holy Land too? If you turn the land you desire into a Holy Land, future generations will revere you even more."
"Anyone can do that. It's something any Saint can do. It's incredibly boring. I want to set a record that even any Saint would find difficult to achieve before I die."
"……"
Whoosh.
Demetri's face shook as he poked the campfire with a fire poker.
I couldn't tell if it was because the reddish flames shook, or if his expression had changed.
"If you are the Gray Traitor, you probably know my intention roughly."
It was not the gaze of a dying old man; rather, the eyes of a veteran general who had lived his entire life on the battlefield flashed.
For a long while, the two looked at each other, locking eyes.
Like the setting sun and the rising moon.
A strange tension lingered between them.
Along with the slowly spreading aura of the Saint, Callius also revealed a bit of his qi.
Whoosh.
At the slightest display of their auras, the campfire was easily extinguished.
The cave was engulfed in darkness.
"...Do you want to become a God?"
In the silence of the strange atmosphere.
Callius's voice pierced the silence.
"Heheheh. I think I roughly understand why the Gods want to kill you. You've approached the taboo truth awfully fast."
"It's not something to call a taboo."
The birth story of those currently called Gods is akin to the birth of divine armaments.
The first sword was a Holy Sword.
The first armor was Holy Armor.
The fact that the one who first made the sword and armor became a God is something that can be fully understood if you think about it.
Of course.
It doesn't mean you become a God just by making the first simple sword and armor.
"I have the intention to create something new, but I'm not doing this to become a God. It's just the greed of an old man on his last legs. If I put it moderately, it's killing two birds with one stone."
"You can make it while killing two birds with one stone, but why do you need my help for that?"
"Call it a hunch. When you live life a little longer, there are things you feel. I just saw that in you."
"Can I refuse?"
I just felt a little interest.
If it took a long time, I didn't want to help. In these chaotic times for the continent, I didn't want my time taken away in a tiny cave.
I just had a little greed for the Holy Relic he would make, and no other feelings.
He was someone I met for the first time today anyway.
There was no reason to help.
"Of course. But I will make you an offer you can't refuse."
"I want nothing from you."
"I will help Carpe."
"……"
"The Holy Relic created will also be yours."
It was quite a groundbreaking condition.
"How will you help?"
"My influence still reaches the Alliance. But as an oracle is an oracle, I can't stop all the nations belonging to the Alliance. At best, it'll only be about delaying the deadline a little."
"Hmm."
Carpe already had to deal with the Empire and the Duchy, having become an enemy of the entire continent.
It happened because of Callius alone, so a considerable sense of debt was also present.
Hearing that he would alleviate some of that, my appetite couldn't help but be whetted.
"I know that making a Holy Relic takes quite some time."
"It won't take long. Since I don't have much time left, I plan to make it short and intense."
At most, about a week.
"That's short."
"For a dying old man, even a week would be quite a daunting and long time."
However.
"It will be the time that shines the most brilliantly in my entire life."
"What will you make?"
"You must decide that."
"Pardon?"
"I will make a Holy Relic for a traitor. So naturally, you must decide."
Callius was quite flustered.
It would be a Holy Relic made by staking his entire life.
If he failed even at that, he would merely have to wait for death, yet he was trying to make an object he had to stake his life on for someone else.
And for someone he met for the first time in his life, no less. Words that couldn't be spoken unless one was crazy.
But precisely because of that, it could also be seen as the words of a true Saint.
"I'll die after making the Holy Relic anyway. Isn't a Holy Relic something made for others rather than for oneself?"
However, Callius's eyes were growing sharper.
"The Gods will probably be wary. The power you harbor is a vast vessel that can hold all the divine armaments of the Gods. I will become a grain of wheat for such a person."
'...This old man. He's got quite the ambitious dream.'
Demetri's devoutly spoken words even exuded sublimity.
But Callius could feel it.
The meticulous desire of the dying old man hidden within the crafted sublimity. He had hidden his expression well in the darkness where the fire went out, but he couldn't hide the aura he inadvertently emitted.
Snap.
When I snapped my fingers, the extinguished campfire blazed back up as if it had never gone out.
As the reddish fire drove away the darkness, the faces of the old man and the young man were visible.
The young man and the old man looked at each other and smiled warmly.
"What should I make?"
Callius pondered for a moment before answering.
"I think a scabbard would be good."
"A scabbard... That's excellent!"
No one had ever made a scabbard before.
Demetri, smiling with satisfaction, immediately crossed his legs into the lotus position.
"You're thinking of a scabbard that isn't bound by form, right?"
"Of course."
"Right, your body is not bound by the constraints of armaments. But since it started with the sword, the form of a scabbard would be best. Good. Very good."
The creation of a Holy Relic is not easy.
Like forging a sword from a corpse, a Saint transforms into an object imbued with a new form and power through the strength and flesh they have accumulated over their lifetime.
The most important thing, naturally, is the heart (心).
The reason he spoke of a week's time was probably a preparation period to solidify his resolve to form the Holy Relic.
During that time, Callius just needed to stay by his side and consistently remind him of the structure, power, and conviction of the Holy Relic to be made.
"I leave it in your hands."
"It is an honor."
Looking at Demetri, who immediately closed his eyes and fell into meditation, Callius smiled.