Ch.302Sanctuary of Faith and Will. Icarus Cliff (1)

“Finally, we’ve arrived. The Icarus Cliff.”

A massive warship casts its shadow over the cliff.

The Sun’s army and the Sky Guardian carrying the god have finally arrived at the Icarus Cliff.

“Icarus is named after a figure from ancient Earth mythology. Did you know that?”

“No. Would you tell me about it?”

When Victor said this, Simon stroked his beard for a moment before beginning to speak.

“In ancient Earth, Icarus and his father Daedalus were imprisoned in a labyrinth for some reason. But yearning for freedom, they harvested wax from beehives scattered throughout the maze and collected bird feathers flowing in through windows to create a primitive glider. On the fateful day, the father advised Icarus not to fly too low where the sea would dampen his wings, nor too high where the sun would melt them, and together they escaped the labyrinth.”

“Ah… why do I feel like I can see the ending coming?”

“Hehehe.”

Simon chuckled briefly before continuing his explanation.

“As you guessed, Icarus fell. He wanted to get too close to the sun. His father Daedalus held his drowned corpse and wept, so his story ended in tragedy, but his name and deeds still remain, used as a metaphor for humanity’s spirit of challenge.”

“Spirit of challenge…”

To be honest, Victor felt a twinge of jealousy toward him.

Literally a figure from over a million years ago (if he had actually existed), yet his story was still being passed down.

Empires that once ruled the world had become relics of the past, their emperors’ names forgotten, but the name of a mere character from mythology—from a civilization so ancient it could be called prehistoric—was still remembered in modern times. How could one who had ascended to godhood not feel envious?

“Well, I suppose that’s a problem for the future…”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself. Anyway, where are the saint’s remains?”

“Ordinary eyes wouldn’t be able to see them, but since you’re no longer human… look carefully. Can’t you tell by where people are gathering?”

“Hmm…”

Hearing this, Victor followed Simon’s advice and focused his vision, channeling power into his eyes to enhance his sight.

However, having never done this before, he ultimately failed to locate the saint’s remains and instead felt extreme fatigue wash over him.

“Damn. To think even using a god’s power isn’t easy. What an embarrassment.”

“Haha! Even gods can die, so don’t feel too bad about it. Shouldn’t you be happy about it? Being unable to do something is what makes you human.”

“Ah… is that so? Damn… to think there’d come a day when I’d appreciate such incompetence… how humiliating.”

Victor returned to the captain’s quarters with an ambiguous expression that was neither smiling nor crying.

Soon after, Simon gave orders to the soldiers and landed the Sky Warden, allowing the Iron Walker party to set foot on land after a very long time.

*

“Ahh! It’s been so long since I’ve stepped on solid ground!”

Crack! Crunch!

Sounds that shouldn’t come from a spine echoed from Hawkman’s back.

Indeed, humans are terrestrial creatures—no matter how long they spend on a massive 230,000-ton airborne warship, they inevitably long for the feel of solid ground.

“It is the honor of my life to meet the Sun God. How may I be of service?”

Before Victor stood a guide sent by the Icarus Cliff government, bowing deeply to him.

One of the troublesome aspects of becoming the Sun God was that it was no longer possible to make pilgrimages as freely as before.

Of course, as one who had defied the laws of this world by resurrecting and receiving the sun’s favor, such drawbacks were penalties he naturally had to bear. But humans are creatures of desire, wanting even the smallest considerations.

Despairingly for Victor, even this feeling of “inconvenience” was gradually fading away.

“Lead me to the saint’s remains. Also, my soldiers will be resting in this land. Make preparations for that.”

“Understood. If I may ask without being presumptuous, how many soldiers do you have?”

“Fifty thousand. Prepare without error.”

“Understood. Regarding your soldiers, I will send someone later. Please follow me.”

“Mm.”

Victor led his party members as they followed behind the guide. People naturally knelt whenever they saw them, unconsciously responding to the natural aura of dignity and pressure they exuded. The party members secretly enjoyed this sense of superiority as they hurried along behind Victor.

Of course, the Walker couple knew that their party members were taking such immaterial benefits under their aura, but they saw no need to stop it and had let it continue until now.

Basically, this was an inevitable phenomenon, and besides, though inferior to the Walkers, they were still among the strongest in all thirteen continents.

“Here is where the saint’s remains are kept. We’ve already cleared out other tourists and pilgrims in case you might find their presence uncomfortable.”

“Well done.”

“Your grace is boundless.”

At first glance, this might seem like an abuse of power, but the situation changes when that power belongs to a god and apostles.

If ordinary people—not even trained adventurers, but fragile civilians—were to view the remains alongside them, they would have been crushed by the pressure of such divine presence, barely able to breathe.

From that perspective, the cliff government’s measures could hardly be called wrong.

Victor opened the door to the place where the holy relic—the saint’s remains—was kept, and was amazed by the holy power emanating from within, distinct from divine rank.

It was like the surprise of seeing a dog walking on two legs.

The fact that someone who had not ascended maintained such noble holy power even after death, even after such an immense passage of time, meant that his dedication had earned tremendous respect from the people of this world.

Victor took a moment to catch his breath before leading his party members into the sanctuary.

*

“Are those the saint’s remains?”

“Yes, they are.”

“How strange. He surely died as a human, and back then there was no ascension for mortals, yet he emits such a holy aura…”

Victor began to sincerely honor the saint’s sacrifice.

This level of noble energy was so pure and pristine that it made even Victor himself feel like murky filth in comparison. This was the highest honor and glory attainable as a human—a dignity that could only be possessed by someone who had decided deep in their soul to sacrifice their entire life, beyond their own lifetime, for the weak and oppressed.

“What is this saint’s name?”

“It is not recorded. He deliberately erased his own name.”

“For what reason?”

“Names hold powerful force. They are the source, root, and foundation of that power. The saint was extremely wary of ignorant people using his sacrifice as a pretext to stain the world with violence through yet another ideology after his death. That is why he erased his own name.”

“What an extraordinary being. To forsake the glory of having his name recorded in history in pursuit of peace.”

Before ascending to godhood, Victor had thought of pacifists as weak people.

He had considered them fools who couldn’t see that the world was maintained through violence, who merely hurled insults at soldiers marching to war for the sake of their own moral superiority.

But now, having ascended to godhood, and having arrived here, he understood how much strength it truly took to genuinely pursue peace.

Those who rejected a world maintained by violence and preached peace, who never bent their convictions despite countless prejudices and hardships, who ultimately chose to break rather than bend—true crusaders in the real sense who sacrificed everything for their beliefs.

For Victor, who had maintained his livelihood by harming others, this was a shock equivalent to having his world shattered. Had he not ascended to godhood, he would have spent an entire week processing the revelation he had gained here.

“I speak true words upon this land. This nameless saint is the most holy human on this earth, the most extraordinary among ordinary people who neither ascended to godhood nor was chosen for apostleship. No ravages of war shall touch these remains, and no disaster shall shake his legacy. In the name of the sun, I bestow blessings upon this land, and you shall forever guard this place and uphold the will of one who taught peace and compassion.”

As Victor spoke these words, the high monks in the sanctuary and the guide all bowed their heads in unison.

The sun, creator of the world, had acknowledged a human’s achievements—this too was the highest honor a mere human could receive. Though his name was not recorded, his deeds remained in history. Is this not the true meaning of anonymity?