Ch.184Chapter 184: Sword Grave (2)

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The Sword Tomb.

This place, literally translated as “the grave of swords,” is the site with the longest history in the Lanos Duchy.

Even older than the Lanos Ducal Residence, which still preserves the ancient architectural style from the founding of the Empire.

The Sword Tomb began when Lumen Lanos, the founder of the family, used a cave halfway up the mountain north of the ducal residence—which was under construction after he had just received his title—as a burial ground to honor the souls of heroes who sacrificed their noble lives during the Great Holy War.

It is both a tomb for swords and a resting place for the souls of the heroes who wielded them.

“I leave my will here; those who inherit my blood and possess talent in swordplay and fighting spirit must set foot here to prove their abilities.”

The ancestor left such a testament before his ascension, making this place particularly significant to the Lanos family.

It meant that if you were born with the Lanos name and chose to walk the path of the sword, you inevitably had to set foot here.

Since few born with the Lanos name didn’t wield swords, the equation “Sword Tomb equals Lanos, and Lanos equals Sword Tomb” naturally formed throughout the Empire.

If someone with the Lanos name wielded a sword but hadn’t undergone the trial at the Sword Tomb, they would typically receive dubious glances.

That’s why I, too, came to face the trial here.

Looking back on my life before my 18th birthday, when I thought I’d be lucky just to make a living with a sword, let alone face the Sword Tomb’s trial, this was already remarkable progress.

I had inherited the hyper-regeneration ability, said to be a privilege exclusive to our ancestor.

I had also inherited the Dragon Sword, which wasn’t mentioned in any records or oral traditions.

With all this, it would be strange if I didn’t undergo the trial.

Well, this isn’t so bad.

If the Lanos name continues, I’ll at least set one record that will remain forever.

What record, you ask?

Well, isn’t it obvious?

The oldest challenger to the Sword Tomb in Lanos history.

It’s been about three months since my 18th birthday, so probably no one will challenge this record even after I’m gone.

“Haha…”

…I say this, but when I actually think about it, it’s rather pitiful.

While we’re on the subject, my sister, who cheered me on at the entrance, qualified at age 12, and my father at just 11 when they magnificently passed the trial here.

I suddenly recall their faces as they warmly told me to return safely, saying the outcome didn’t matter.

To not let their encouragement go to waste, I should stop chatting and focus now.

Unlike earlier when the installed lighting made visibility no issue, the path ahead was dark with no illumination, presenting a gloomy landscape.

Since I had no similar experience with the Sword Tomb before my regression, this moment of stepping into it was completely uncharted territory.

What kind of place was this?

And what trial awaited me here?

After entering the darkness, all sorts of thoughts bloomed and withered in my mind with each step I took.

[Stop for a moment.]

Paphnir’s voice in my head halted both my steps and thoughts after walking for about thirty minutes inside.

Though the situation was frustrating, I was accompanied by a guide who knew this place to some extent.

And I wasn’t foolish enough to ignore such a guide’s words.

Slowly stopping my steps, I asked:

‘…What is it?’

Before Paphnir could answer, I tried to figure it out myself, but the dim environment of the Sword Tomb, where I had ventured quite deep, revealed nothing.

It seemed I had no choice but to hear Paphnir’s explanation, so I crossed my arms.

[…Let there be light.]

As Paphnir’s solemn voice—which I had rarely heard lately—echoed in my mind, sudden brightness filled the previously dark interior.

It was so bright that I couldn’t tell if I was inside the Sword Tomb or outside in broad daylight.

“…Huh?”

Surprised by the sudden change, I stupidly uttered this and then asked aloud:

“How did you do that?”

I was genuinely surprised because until now, Paphnir’s influence on the external world had been limited to making his voice heard in my mind or inviting me into his misty domain. I had never seen him exert physical influence like this.

As if sensing my thoughts:

[Thinking too deeply about it will only give you a headache. This place is just like that.]

Accepting Paphnir’s advice not to overthink it, I didn’t dwell on the matter further.

I simply looked around at the brightened surroundings to see what kind of place this was.

How should I describe the interior of the Sword Tomb now visible in the light…

[It won’t feel as grand as the name suggests. Just a bunch of broken weapons.]

‘…I see.’

Though Paphnir warned me it wouldn’t feel grand, contrary to his concern, I was already admiring the broken swords laid out in the brightened environment.

The interior was obsessively filled with swords—broken swords, to be precise.

These swords, having served their purpose and now laid to rest in what might seem like an unsightly form, were numerous but limited in variety.

Most were military swords characterized by cross-shaped guards and round pommels at the grip’s end—standard-issue weapons widely used by humanity against magical beasts during the Great Holy War.

As I imagined the ancient heroes who fought desperate battles, clutching their swords as both weapons and lifelines against magical beasts, I found myself unconsciously bowing my head in reverence.

But as I scanned the broken weapons:

“…Hmm?”

I noticed some weapons that exuded an extraordinary aura, even at first glance.

Despite having blades broken in half or, in some cases, only the hilts remaining, they still emanated a remarkable presence.

If they had been intact, that aura would have shone even brighter.

[Even after a thousand years, weapons used by those who made a name for themselves in battle still retain their aura. Impressive, isn’t it?]

“…Indeed, it’s amazing.”

I replied without contradicting Paphnir’s slightly exaggerated tone and continued examining the swords.

Such exceptional swords would stand out even if there were only one or two.

Their aura seemed to emit light, creating a sparkling effect around them.

Just as my eyes were drawn to a spot where the aura shone particularly brightly:

[I see you’ve noticed it too.]

Paphnir, recognizing where my gaze was directed, spoke with satisfaction.

[Walk toward it.]

Before I could say anything, he urged me to go in that direction.

There was no reason not to follow, so I continued walking, guided by the visible flow of aura for about five minutes.

As I kept walking, something noticeable emerged.

[Do you understand now?]

“…I think I do.”

[At first, we saw weapons with only hilts remaining. Then those with blades preserved but with missing teeth or slight cracks making them unusable. Now we’re seeing swords that could be wielded right away. It would be strange not to notice.]

Just as Paphnir said, what had started as objects barely recognizable as swords strewn on the floor had gradually transformed into what appeared to be excellently displayed weapons as I continued walking.

Swords were deeply embedded vertically in the floor, each with a plaque engraved with its history, name, and the name of its user—this was undoubtedly a display.

And among these displayed items, I could recognize what some of these swords were.

How could I not?

These were swords used by geniuses among geniuses who had shaped Lanos history, as grandly recorded on the plaques.

By now, though my steps remained steady, my eyes had moved from the tension of facing the unknown to wondering what sword would next delight my eyes.

[Ahem. Have we arrived?]

At Paphnir’s quiet voice in my head, I momentarily stopped.

“Ugh…!!”

A faint scream escaped my lips as I was overwhelmed by what suddenly appeared before my eyes.

What overwhelmed me was light.

A blue light, rare to find in this dark place.

It was chillingly beautiful.

And so intense that I worried it might damage my eyesight if I stared directly at it.

As I raised my right hand to shield my eyes from the light:

[Let’s go to where that light is. The trial begins there.]

Following Paphnir’s instruction to take a few more steps, I approached the blue light.

-Pass.

A strange voice, neither clearly male nor female, different from Paphnir’s voice in my head, reached my ears.

The intensity of the blue light that had overwhelmed my vision gradually weakened.

Within it, I could see a sword more magnificent than any I had seen in the Sword Tomb today, deeply embedded vertically in the floor.

The sword had a golden grip designed for one-handed use. Most of the blade was embedded in the floor, making its length difficult to gauge, though it appeared shorter than the Dragon Sword but narrower in width. The aura emanating from this sword was remarkably warm.

The chillingly blue aura I had initially perceived was gone, replaced by a warm golden glow that welcomed me.

[Grasp the handle with your right hand.]

Following Paphnir’s instruction, I grasped the golden handle of the sword.

The warm golden aura that had been rippling around began to slowly enter my body.

Though surprised by this foreign energy entering me so effortlessly:

[Don’t try to reject it. Accept it as naturally as breathing.]

Following Paphnir’s advice, I used my energy perception to its fullest extent to gather the golden aura entering my body.

“…Mmm.”

My entire body warmed up to an unprecedented degree, making me impervious to the unexpectedly chilly environment of the cave interior that I had felt since stepping in.

-Pass.

At that moment, the voice announcing my passing descended upon my ears again.

The voice was considerably warmer than when it first announced my passing.

What kind of mechanism makes this voice appear? And why am I hearing “pass” twice without any proper explanation? Is this really being done correctly?

[Yes, it’s being done correctly, so don’t worry and prepare for the next step.]

As if reading my thoughts, Paphnir’s resolute voice didn’t allow my thoughts to continue.

[Next, infuse the sword with your fighting spirit from that state.]

My body, following Paphnir’s instruction, channeled the fighting spirit I had created by pushing Pricasa’s breathing technique to its limit—a technique I had activated since entering the Sword Tomb—into the sword.

Then:

-One with an unblemished soul that wasn’t destroyed by the cold blue light of judgment.

-One with a warm heart that makes even the golden light, which melts the coldness of those who don’t understand others’ hearts, seem modest.

-Welcome to the trial of Calidum Iustitia (=Warm Justice).

A warm voice, as if whispering right beside me rather than in my head, descended upon my ears.

In that instant, my consciousness blacked out.

The last thing I perceived in my rapidly sinking consciousness was just one thing:

[I wish you luck.]

Only Paphnir’s voice, incomparably more serious than usual.