What on Earth Was She Thinking, Coming Back?
Ludenberg Lavante had no idea what possessed her to come back. With those thoughts swirling in his mind, he returned to his quarters within the knight order.
A tumult of emotions churned inside him. Ashytara's words began to echo relentlessly, and through them, he finally grasped the intent behind her actions. She had wanted confirmation all along—that she herself hadn't changed.
Have I changed?
Ludenberg began a serious self-examination. His own transformation. His thoughts turned back the clock as he reflected on the past.
The child he had been trusted people easily, convinced that everyone held goodwill toward him. Then he met Ashytara, and others... countless nobles. They all seemed friendly, he believed them, and he was betrayed.
But the crucial turning point wasn't before the betrayal—it was after. He stopped trusting people. That single fact made him cold toward others, intolerant of even minor mistakes. He became brutally strict with himself too, subjecting his body to training that bordered on self-destruction.
That could be called a change, sure. He had undoubtedly transformed.
Yet Ashytara told him he hadn't changed. He had always worked diligently and apologized when he wronged others. He was as strict with his own errors as he was with theirs. He never lashed out with violence without reason. He helped Cletta—even if it started as just playing along, at some point it became genuine support.
That must be what she meant by unchanged.
In conclusion, he had changed, and he hadn't. His attitude toward people had shifted. But the convictions that remained at his core—the ones that wouldn't let him abandon those who strove hard, the respect for such people—those hadn't budged.
Everyone told him he had changed, even his parents. Only Ashytara said he hadn't. She must have seen the beliefs still alive within him.
The sliver of trust she showed him—it was so solid and intense, easy enough to recognize. Compelling enough that he unwittingly wanted to believe it.
Why did she place such unwavering trust in him?
Pondering deeply, Ludenberg recalled her final words. That she would wait. That he shouldn't give up on her.
The words he had spoken to her when she tried to abandon the sword. When she nearly quit striving, he told her not to give up. That he would wait until she picked it up again.
Those were his own words, thrown back at him.
Ludenberg let out a hollow laugh. "…What the hell am I supposed to do?"
The memories and moments shared with Ashytara in childhood—things he thought lost forever—she hadn't forgotten. She returned them to him.
She never despaired when he failed to awaken divine power. She recognized his unmatched efforts. Even when he cruelly pushed her away, she didn't budge.
While others deceived him with words, Ashytara showed trust through actions. She didn't hesitate to clash with others or risk political backlash.
No one had ever acted that way for him before. And so, Ludenberg could no longer refuse to trust her.
"Fine. One last time, I'll believe her."
The moment he resolved to trust Ashytara, his mind cleared. The nagging thoughts about her, the doubts her behavior stirred—all that chaos vanished in an instant. Maybe he had wanted to believe her all along.
Ludenberg simply thought that much.
Ludenberg opened his eyes.
I was just lying in bed a moment ago…?
With that thought, he looked ahead. Before him sat Raha and her throne, bound tight in chains as always. The same place where he had obtained Liberra last time.
"You're all prepared, I assume."
Raha's voice reached him. He recalled her words before the dispatch—about granting the first trial.
"I'm ready, more or less. But one question."
"What is it?"
"What exactly do I do in this trial?"
"Ah, I never explained that. Do you remember the diary of the Starting Knight I gave you?"
"Yeah."
Raha nodded at Ludenberg's reply.
"Good. That diary belonged to the Starting Knight. From now on, you'll become him directly and fill in that diary yourself."
"What?"
"In the trial you're about to enter, you'll experience everything he went through—as the Starting Knight."
"I'll… act as the Starting Knight?"
"Exactly. More precisely, you'll borrow his body, navigate his memories, endure his trials and hardships, and grow stronger through them."
"Won't that do much for my own growth?"
Raha shook her head.
"No. I told you before—he was the strongest human in all of history. By acting in a body on a higher level, you'll see what you're lacking. His physique will show you the direction your own body should take."
"…I see."
"Yes. It might be tough adjusting since it's not your body, but once you adapt, grasp the essence of his swordsmanship… you'll grow stronger, faster than any divine power user."
Her tone was encouraging.
"Moreover, your mental fortitude right now is stronger than ever. You'll endure the pain of the trials for sure."
Ludenberg nodded silently. Even to him, his mind felt clearer than ever, free of turmoil. But one question lingered, so he asked Raha.
"What if I die in the trial? Does the real me die too?"
"No, of course not. But the pain remains. If you die in the Starting Knight's body, that agony will replicate in yours."
"Isn't that… pretty dangerous?"
"It is. But… by overcoming that pain, your body will gradually toughen. The human mind strengthens the flesh in extreme states. Anyway, that's all from me. Say you're ready when you are."
Ludenberg took a small breath and nodded. Time to face it head-on. He wouldn't actually die—in fact, the more he "died," the stronger he'd get.
"Alright. Then stab Liberra into that altar. The door will open."
As Raha instructed, Ludenberg plunged the Liberra in his hand into the altar. A sharp click echoed as something locked into place. Light seeped into the altar… and as it climbed the blade, the altar shattered into pieces, forming a door right in front of him.
"I hope you find satisfying results there. Don't yield to the trial. Go, Ludenberg."
Without hesitation, Ludenberg stepped through the door.
When Ludenberg stepped through and opened his eyes, he saw the ruins of a city. At the same time, a profound sense of dissonance hit him, and he quickly realized why.
As Raha said, he now inhabited the Starting Knight's body. It wasn't his own. He couldn't quite name the alien sensation, but it felt like his soul had detached and settled into another form.
Yet something overrode that unease: raw vitality. Power surged through every limb. He felt he could recreate everything his future self had shown him right then and there.
He surveyed the ruined city. No structure stood intact—only collapsed debris everywhere. It looked like some indescribable catastrophe had struck.
Ludenberg extended his senses. With this amplified body, the expansion was effortless, beyond anything he could manage before. Sensory data from all around flooded in.
Now he understood why Raha had expanded his senses earlier. Without that experience, he'd have floundered in this body's perceptions for a while.
"…Unbelievable. And this is a body before facing trials? Just how strong was the Starting Knight?"
He stood stunned, gazing at the devastation. No unusual presences yet—just the barren cityscape. Every building was obliterated.
What could have reduced the city to this? The answer was obvious: corpses strewn about, remnants of erosion beasts.
"An invasion by erosion beasts…"
He circled the city. No signs of survivors—or erosion beasts.
"Nothing here now…? What the hell am I supposed to do in this 'trial'?"
As Ludenberg muttered, the space around him flushed red, and a sky-tearing roar erupted.
Kwajijik!
At the sound, Ludenberg drew the longsword the Starting Knight had been armed with. Countless erosion beasts plummeted before him, radiating murderous intent.
Beasts that devoured all life. Innumerable low-rank ones, mixed with mid-rank giants several times larger—nearly three times human size—glaring at him.
That blade-sharp hostility persisted, no matter the era.
Ludenberg still felt dissonance in the body, but it was no issue. Even this uneasy state outclassed his original body by far.
He kicked off the ground and leaped into the horde.
Kwaang!
Just a step forward cracked the earth, sending shards flying. Following the body's ingrained instincts, he swung the sword. The nearest erosion beast's heart pierced and vanished instantly.
The trial had begun.