Ch.14146. I Have Never Yearned (3)

It flies as black fire and fresh blood.

It seeps in as darkness that could engulf even the black night sky.

Though sword meets sword,

The sound is remarkably subdued.

Unlike the fiercely burning red flames,

The pitch-black sword silently devours the flames that spread from the point of contact, consuming the surroundings without a sound.

Even mighty flames, as if buried in an endless abyss.

Even the brilliant sparks and their burning red glow, once touched by darkness, vanish like living creatures sucked down a predator’s throat.

“Anyway.”

Venus clicked his tongue, pulling back his sword that seemed not just stuck but almost buried in the other’s blade.

Again, he swung his sword with enough force to cleave through a body.

The flames touching the air and earth raise the temperature relentlessly, like wildfire spreading across kindling and oil, instantly melting the cold ground.

Smoke rises from the floor, momentarily softening everything.

Yet Kariel receives it all with calm composure.

As if the area around him remains completely unaffected, everything seemed utterly peaceful.

The intense heat naturally makes skin burn and sweat pour out.

The nostrils and throat that inhale the heat, and everything inside should naturally be scorched by the malice of the flames.

…Even Venus himself, who wields these flames, suffers these damages.

But not him.

Pale white skin contrasting with pitch-black hair.

And between them, those two eyes, clear as the full moon on a cloudless night.

With his entirely black attire, if placed in shadows or shade, one might question if he’s even human.

For someone embracing such a severe and ridiculous contradiction, he was abnormal in many ways.

“At least! Pretend it’s difficult!”

Do it, you son of a bitch!

Despite swinging and thrusting his sword several times, the other parries with remarkable skill.

Venus tries to convince himself that Kariel is merely responding, that he still holds the initiative in the attack.

But the feeling of being overwhelmed—is it due to the clear difference in strength, or the overwhelming disparity in their foundations?

‘Am I still lacking?’

Still? After all this?

What more must I throw away, what more must I offer, what price must I pay, what sacrifice must I make!

…To truly reach that level?

Yet despite this.

More than disappointment, more than frustration.

Only my fighting spirit swells.

Yes.

This level of challenge makes it worth pursuing.

If I were to crumble at just this much.

…How pathetic and shameful would my lifelong pursuit have been?

What I’ve pursued isn’t wrong.

He is the proof of that.

But I, unable to reach him.

Now, I can only proceed in my own way.

As time passes, as years go by, I might become immeasurably stronger, as he said.

But during that long time, what I can accomplish will remain limited.

While I waste time on training and mastery,

My original purpose and will would gradually dull. Rust over.

Miserably.

Pathetically.

…And during that long, long time, those who unfairly enjoy the world like paradise.

The tyranny of those unfair individuals will continue or worsen.

Meanwhile, the lamentations and sighs of those unfairly oppressed and persecuted? Their despair and frustration? Their resignation and discouragement?

‘It’s the victim’s fault.’

But.

In this world, there are circumstances where one can only be victimized.

There are those who can barely look ahead, always with their heads bowed, able to see nothing but the ground.

And for such people, revolution is…

…An impossible realm unless someone spoon-feeds it to them.

I used to look at such people with frustration, cursing them as losers, insulting them.

…But that doesn’t mean they have no role.

Just as flowers have their role.

Just as trees have their role.

Even the insects and beasts clinging to them, even they have their roles.

Don’t rain, wind, and sun all have their roles?

…Then what’s wrong in the end? Whose fault is it?

That the world is so absurd and unreasonable?

“Fine. Let’s see how long you can remain composed!”

Let’s watch!

Muscles swell and tendons thicken.

The veins on his forehead bulge as if about to burst.

But more ominous than that, his eyes now emit a red glow as if about to spurt blood.

His body, already beyond human limits, writhes and convulses as if about to be destroyed and broken.

Yet he endures.

But that alone is not enough.

What’s lacking?

‘Because it’s not a fundamental solution.’

What is Venus’s essence?

And what is that one’s essence?

The transcendent ability that Grandeus and Kariel have mastered as their essence goes beyond conventional structures and concepts.

Something beyond even supernatural powers that cause or control specific phenomena.

Something that makes understanding such phenomena colorless and meaningless.

Everything, without exception, gets sucked in.

Mana.

And all the general phenomena derived from mana.

And there’s no end to it.

Those without a vessel thus exploit such power to trouble their opponents.

Sometimes with a decisive blow, sometimes by weaving spider-like intricate traps that leave no escape.

“Hah. It’s sickening.”

Knowing this well, whether breaking through or confronting, it remains complex.

But this is the limit possible for someone like him.

However, now, that one is something different from us.

He no longer needs to exploit power; it’s just one of many tools or tactics he can use at will.

But there are still countless more sinister things.

For example.

“Ugh!”

That insane movement, covering a distance of four or five steps with just one.

Also.

“Damn—!”

It!

The body tilting as if swept away, as if drawn in by the swinging sword.

Though he barely manages to push it away with his own sword, even that quickly becomes dull under the powerful compression, affecting both the sword and the body holding it.

Immense weight, pressure, compression.

All of it pressing down, pulling, and pushing on both body and mind.

As if being drawn in closer, and repelled when moving away.

What kind of phenomenon is this?

‘This is why there’s no normal answer.’

It seemed as if the area around him, within his reach, operated under abnormal laws.

With just a moment’s carelessness, the body collapses, and sense of direction and center of gravity quickly crumble.

Swords cross, but it must end in an instant.

Stay engaged too long, and everything gets sucked in.

Yet it also pushes back, and might expel everything it has absorbed.

Normally, one would use limited mana and energy efficiently, exploiting it for counterattacks.

But in this situation, where the concept of a limited vessel is meaningless to him, if one were to pour in boundless power…

…There’s a high chance it would all be redirected back at oneself.

‘Is this all? How am I supposed to win with just this?’

That damn devil, is he trying to drive me to a miserable death?

The limits of what I can do are clear.

My will and determination to surpass those limits are also clear.

But that alone isn’t enough.

If will alone could achieve everything, then emperors, demon lords, heroes, legions, gods, devils, demon gods, or whatever!

All the countless trash in this world should have already fallen dead by my hand!

‘Show me more. Is this all you amount to?!’

I don’t care if it’s called shameless.

If not for being petty and desperate.

These are opponents I couldn’t possibly defeat otherwise, aren’t they?

If the weak want to win in their own petty way, is that objectionable? Is that a sin?

If so!

This world shouldn’t have been made this way in the first place!

My heart aches.

Unknown voices pierce my brain.

Consciousness wavers, and everything before my eyes turns black, then blood-red.

But I couldn’t close my eyes.

Inevitably, with eyes wide open.

I rush forward, swinging my sword.

Though beyond the sword’s reach,

The flames extending from the sword roar, burning through space, splitting the ground it touches.

He casually deflects it.

The fact that he deflected is important.

Did he not absorb it, or could he not?

‘Whatever.’

Instead of thinking about that, he’s probably thinking and reasoning too.

Even the slightest chance, I must firmly grasp.

Even if it’s a rotten rope.

I desperately need even the fleeting help of that rotten rope.

I thrust my sword.

The world has already turned blood-red.

The intense heat burns my skin, cooking and peeling it, making it soften and melt.

‘Not yet.’

I can’t make him struggle with just this much.

Even if I could defeat most of the world, I wouldn’t be satisfied unless I defeated him.

‘Until the end.’

And if I’m not satisfied.

Then I’ll die, or just die.

Does it make sense for someone who hasn’t prepared for death to challenge adversity?

Of course not.

I know this better than anyone.

So this time, as always.

This life, this body, the years I’ve built up, and this vicious power I’ve begged and struggled to obtain.

I’ll gladly throw it all away.

This is my full strength.

====

Would someone who claims to see the future truly fail to predict this situation?

[That child is like fire.]

In that majestic darkness and the darkest starry sky.

He, Grandeus, evaluated Venus like that.

[Even if I had stayed by his side, he would have eventually found his own path.]

Rather, he seemed somewhat satisfied that his teachings had at least controlled Venus’s indiscriminate rampage and the injustice he might unintentionally exercise…

[But the fate of burning things is that, as time passes, the intensity of the fire inevitably diminishes.]

But he’s a bit different.

His limits as a human were clear, but nevertheless, the spark that burned his will and heart, unlike others, transferred to his soul to the point of catching fire.

His will and stubbornness, his obsession, were on a different level from others.

[But as he gets beaten and tossed around by the world, he’ll inevitably come to accept and understand.]

The things that could stimulate him were infinitely few, and for him, the world was unbearably narrow and miserable.

[But after meeting you, he’ll think differently.]

A worthy opponent.

An enemy that must be defeated.

But is he an enemy deserving death? No, that’s not it.

So he just wants to defeat you.

Why?

[Probably due to the bad temperament typical of boys.]

…That’s what Grandeus said, but.

That’s not it.

Kariel was somewhat aware of Venus’s state of mind.

Just as he understood him.

Whether he wants to admit it or not, for him, Grandeus and his achievements and accomplishments.

And the bonds and relationships that arose from them, were probably invaluable.

But they were broken and shattered.

The realization that what he believed to be truth was actually a lie.

Yet he wanted to prove that it was indeed truth.

At the same time, he couldn’t bear to inherit that name and belief, and to watch and ignore the injustices and unfairness, the unreasonableness rampant in the world.

Not because he was righteous or virtuous.

He.

…Wanted to set things right.

Perhaps he even wanted to correct his own distortion.

But he’s too twisted now, beyond the point of return.

Having already thrown himself off a cliff, the choice not to jump, the judgment.

At that point, it had already become meaningless.

All that remained was piercing regret and a sliver of complacent hope.

But reality is the ground he’ll hit upon falling.

The inevitable reality of facing malice without malice.

And then one day, as hope within him was dulling and rusting away.

I appeared.

As Grandeus’s successor and.

As the child of Rueld.

For him, there probably hasn’t been a greater unreasonableness, a fate, in his entire life.

So I can understand why he’s rampaging like this.

That.

Doesn’t mean I’ll show consideration or concession.

From his swollen body and eyes that seem to have lost reason, an unknown vitality is felt.

Even if captured, I don’t want to submit to it.

Even controlling and subduing that, making it his own, using it as a tool—that obsession is truly astounding.

Is he that desperate?

Yet refusing to bow and submit, insisting that he’ll use it so just shut up and yield, follow him.

“But.”

We’ve already clashed dozens of times, but I can’t declare defeat with just that.

No matter how determined you are to defeat me, no matter how earnestly you plead, dedicating even your future.

Of course, I could deliberately lose.

…But would you be able to accept that?

If you could accept it, would there be any reason not to let you win ten or a hundred times?

But you wouldn’t fail to detect that.

So what should I do?

‘Why make it difficult?’

I’m neither a warrior nor a knight.

So I’m somewhat skeptical of this inefficient, meaningless war of attrition.

Nevertheless, I understand the opponent’s determination.

I have no particular interest in sincerely responding to that determination or any such trivial matters.

I have no intention of being intoxicated with superiority by winning, nor of degrading or belittling the opponent by breaking his pride.

What I desire has been consistent from beginning to end.

‘I.’

I honor my contract with the Demon Lord.

Because that was the only way I could wash away and wipe clean the forced resentment, grudges, regrets, frustrations, and all the despair and resignation formed from them.

It might seem too pitiful and shabby for a tantrum.

But for me to stand as myself.

First, I must overcome that barrier.

I don’t mind if it’s pitiful.

Even if people laugh and mock me for being petty, naive, and stupid, I’ll gladly accept it.

I walk my path.

Escaping from the pit, walking through the wilderness.

Until I reach my destination.

So.

You too, walk your own path.

Whether it’s killing me or defeating me or whatever.

That’s, for you to figure out.

Just as you’ve always told others.

“Aaaaargh!”

With a scream, as if burning the entire world, he swings down his sword, creating a barrier of flames.

The barrier soon rushes like a snake’s head, lashing like a whip, stirring hostility relentlessly.

Dramatically avoiding and countering all of it.

I too, make preparations.

[Whether I was the Great Demon Lord or wanted to make the holy sword my beloved sword to slay those devil bastards, it was my own compromise.]

I too was incomplete back then.

He, Grandeus, told me.

[But that sword in your hand isn’t a holy sword, is it?]

Those words pass by my ears like an auditory hallucination.

Again, I look at him before me, who, borrowing the power of devils, now clings even to the royal palace, approaching as if to burn the entire world with those red flames.

Looking at that absurd figure, now completely engulfed in flames, truly becoming an incarnation of fire.

I gave a short, hollow laugh.

At this point, normal combat is meaningless.

Though duels and struggles can no longer be established.

Because of that, there’s something I can do.

‘I respect your choice, but.’

Know that it’s not necessarily the best.

Experience it.

If you must be broken and snapped at least once.

Yes, you must break.

‘The way of the world.’

Has always unfolded contrary to what one desires.

It will be so for me.

And it will be so for you.

The pitch-black sword held in both hands.

The darkness covering it is momentarily withdrawn.

And immediately after.

An intense light, close to golden, engulfs the entire sword.

What I hold in my hand now.

Is a righteous terror and thrill against all who harbor evil and demons.

====

In Somern.

At the final battle, when Leo’s holy sword and Mines’s power were about to clash.

Why did I, with my battered body, volunteer to intervene?

It was simply to help Mines and calm Leo down for a better outcome.

Yes. Looking back now, that intervention, that choice, was correct.

But what if.

There was someone who knew this fact all along, and someone who judged they could exploit it?

…What then?

[I laid the groundwork.]

Grandeus said.

The sword you hold is not a holy sword.

Therefore.

In dealing with demon tribes or devils, it cannot be an alternative or solution.

[The arcane knowledge I passed to you will eventually become a perfect countermeasure and solution, but even in its incomplete state, it doesn’t encompass everything.]

Then, increasing the number of tactics and strategies you can use is naturally the next step, isn’t it?

Also.

To transcend the limitations of an imperfect holy sword and evolve into something more.

…You must adopt a method befitting that.

Utpala.

The Great Demon Lord’s power was often referred to as the pale ice flower blooming in hell.

For instance, if someone is buried in hell, if there’s a hell where coldness reaches its extreme.

The ice flower that blooms only there.

And the power to make it bloom.

That’s why I wanted to use that power to forge the sword.

But that wasn’t enough.

In that sense.

What is holy power?

It leans towards the positive but isn’t extreme positive mana.

It is, but also isn’t.

What’s certain is that it’s the hottest and most brilliant flame.

But it can’t be fully contained.

If it could, would holy swords be so revered?

So, the holy power emitted by the holy sword.

And the Great Demon Lord’s power, Utpala.

Use both in the process of forging the sword.

Also, absorb power and engrave its essence onto the sword.

But is that the end?

There’s still more.

Before those two clash, include armor fragments imbued with my energy in the sword.

Is that the completion?

No.

Even before that.

The sword had already encountered the Great Demon Lord’s power once, which had dwelled in the princess’s body.

The brilliant and cruel white flame raised from there.

And as you, being empty, reversely used her power as a driving force.

You recreated the Black Star for the first time in your life.

Was this truly a coincidence?

And in that process, you melted the sword with that immense flame.

Is that the end?

No.

You’ve overlooked the most important thing.

Why didn’t it melt or break?

How could you recreate my arcane knowledge with it?

Have you forgotten?

What did that sword cut?

Think again.

Why was it possible?

Because that sword.

Cut off that golden neck.

…Held in the hands of the radiant knight, it received that immense mana.

Above all, through that process, golden blood seeped into the sword.

Thus, that symbol and myth were engraved on the sword.

The Golden Beast.

The sword itself wasn’t extraordinary originally.

But as the golden essence of the Golden Demon Lord, it signifies the most brilliant and complete permanence as a metal.

However.

That doesn’t directly imply its utility as a weapon.

It’s just a symbol.

In that sense, the permanence and strength possessed by the Golden Demon Lord.

The one who arranged for it to seep into that sword was.

None other than Grandeus himself.

And just before that sword was handed to Rueld.

A masterpiece among masterpieces, a sword that a craftsman could produce only once in a lifetime, at a special time and date, binding it with a unique ritual and his own soul.

[Yes. That is the crown jewel of the arrangement I made for you.]

That’s why the qualification test felt so desperate to you.

It is the eternally growing sword of infinite permanence.

That is Elbat, now handed to you.

[When you reach the final stage, attributes, elements, and even simple laws will become meaningless. But until you reach that stage… it will be of great help.]

Until you obtain the power of the stars.

It will account for all the possibilities held by the stars.

And.

You’ve probably started to understand your true calling from the Golden One.

[How could the Holy Son be less capable than a holy sword? That wouldn’t look right, would it?]

Although.

The Great Demon Lord is gone.

And the possibility of a being like him being born again might be slim even after thousands of years.

Still, we don’t know.

We still don’t know.

And if such a being were to appear.

If fate hadn’t abandoned me.

If someone with my arcane knowledge and aspirations could rightfully triumph against the newly reborn him.

[Where else would it be?]

…….

The radiance in Kariel’s hand extends.

Spreading in all directions, it begins to gradually devour the blood-red flames that burn and scorch the surroundings like a storm made of fire.

Though made of light, its essence and form were very similar to the darkness, blackness, and abyss that Kariel himself had wielded and shouldered.

It is.

An erosion made of light.

A predation made of radiance.

And now.

…Venus.

Your obsession, your fixation, your delusion.

Here, they will be broken.

Will you be reborn through it?

Or will you crumble, leaving only ashes?

Now, it’s time to choose.