The Trial's Crushing Agony
Countless erosion beasts launched their attacks in a chaotic frenzy, swarming toward Ludenberg. But he didn't yield an inch, blocking every single one with flawless precision. There was no hesitation in his movements, no awkwardness whatsoever. He wielded the swordsmanship he had glimpsed through his future self—a nameless style. Yet it was etched so deeply into his mind, the very swordsmanship he had resolved to pursue.
Every part of his body activated in perfect harmony, refining the technique further into something even more precise and ferocious. The mere wind pressure from his swings tore through the erosion beasts' hides. It works. This body can handle it.
But something felt off. Swordsmanship was something the body had to grow accustomed to. Normally, executing an unfamiliar style should bring at least a twinge of discomfort or dissonance. So why was there none at all? It was as if... he had honed this blade for decades.
Ludenberg shook his head to dispel the doubt. Unanswerable questions would only cloud his mind. Who cares? None of this makes sense anyway. Let's just say this body is so utterly perfect that it adapts flawlessly.
He cast aside the arrogance of trying to comprehend the incomprehensible and focused solely on the task at hand: eliminating the erosion beasts.
Each strike pierced an erosion beast's heart, the ensuing gust shredding their flesh. It was possible only because of this overwhelmingly superior physique.
Straight ahead, a horde charged at him. The low-grade ones lunged desperately to inflict any wound, while the mid-grade beasts used them as shields in their rush. But despite their efforts...
Ludenberg's sword allowed no openings. He effortlessly parried the onslaught of tentacles, spines, and claws, then took a single step forward. In that instant, his heightened senses pinpointed the hearts of every erosion beast before him.
He drew Libera to his waist, channeled his power, and unleashed a horizontal slash along their precise paths. In a flash, straight lines etched across the bodies of all the beasts ahead... and moments later, they split in half, hearts and all.
Mid-grade or not, they were swept away like chaff.
A strange euphoria washed over Ludenberg. The sensation of his body moving exactly as he willed, embodying every technique he could envision—this omnipotence. Intoxicated by it, he felled the surrounding erosion beasts.
Krunch!Krunch-crunch!
A roar louder than before echoed as the sky tore open once more. What emerged dwarfed the previous mid-grade beasts by at least tenfold—a colossal, building-sized monstrosity.
Mid-grade erosion beasts reached that stage only after devouring countless others: high-grade. But this one was several times larger still, unmistakably a highest-grade erosion beast.
Out of nowhere—a highest-grade. Its power was incomparable to the mid-grades he'd just carved through, forcing Ludenberg to tense instinctively.
The building-sized behemoth glared down at the much smaller Ludenberg, raised a foot, and slammed it toward him.
As the massive foot hurtled to crush him, Ludenberg kicked off the ground and dodged. Boom! A shockwave erupted around the impact, shattering the earth.
His first impression of a highest-grade erosion beast—which he'd only heard about in tales—was simple: Overwhelming.
> Ludenberg, can you hear me?
"Raha?"
> Good, you can. Listen carefully. You have to take it down alone. That's the first entry in the Starting Knight's journal.
"Understood."
Ludenberg uttered no weak complaints. He raised his sword toward the colossal erosion beast, steeling his resolve—not just lifting the blade, but fortifying his will.
Raha had called this the Starting Knight's ordeal. For a knight with such an extraordinary body, an "ordeal" would naturally be brutally demanding. Yet Ludenberg felt a conviction: overcoming it would hone his own skills.
This wasn't his own flesh undergoing the trial, but his genius talent fully registered and memorized every sensation from this body. Raha hadn't lied. Repeating these ordeals would let him surpass human limits without divine power.
For his own growth, Ludenberg charged the highest-grade erosion beast.
* * *
Enormous spines and tentacles—impossible to describe otherwise—surged toward him. Erosion beasts were always like this: tentacles or spines. Sometimes they formed spear-like protrusions from their bodies and hurled them, or morphed flesh into weapons. All these tactics made them nightmarishly tricky, and from a building-sized one? It was apocalyptic.
A new arm formed on the beast, morphing into a massive pillar. It ripped the pillar free and swung it at Ludenberg.
How the hell do you even kill something like this?
His vision darkened with despair, but he dodged the attacks and closed in. Titanic force barreled toward him. He slipped past smoothly, pressing forward relentlessly. Running, running—finally reaching its foot, he swung at its leg.
Slash!
Too shallow. Far too shallow. The sword hadn't shattered, and it had scored the hide—that was encouraging—but against a regenerating erosion beast, it wasn't enough.
Damn it. Tough bastard.
This ordeal wouldn't be easy. Dodging attacks was trouble enough; getting close triggered barrages from its body. It was a walking fortress. How to fell it? And how to find its heart in that massive frame?
Those questions swirled in Ludenberg's mind. He needed a strategy. A war of attrition would wear him down eventually. The Starting Knight's body was insanely resilient, but it was still human—limits existed.
One thing was clear: sever one leg in a single strike. Collapse its balance, and options would open. Whether he could or not wasn't the point. He had to.
His own body couldn't pierce a highest-grade hide, but the Starting Knight's could. Finding the heart? Worry about that after the leg.
Having devised a plan, Ludenberg acted. He evaded and deflected the plunging assaults, reached the leg, and this time squeezed every ounce of power from his flesh, tracing the ideal arc he could envision.
Shrick! He severed it clean. That much damage wouldn't regenerate easily.
He was right. The beast couldn't regrow the leg swiftly and staggered. But tentacles erupted from its torso, substituting to steady itself.
"What the—insane! Forming tentacles thick enough to support that bulk?!"
Ludenberg shouted in shock despite himself. Back to square one. Severed leg or not, how to reach the body? Flight was impossible—that required Celioum divine power.
What now?
He kept thinking. There had to be a way. Climb a building? Useless—the city was rubble. Only one path left: that arm swinging the pillar nonstop.
He had to climb it.
Dodging eruptions from its body, Ludenberg timed the pillar's descent.
Boom!
The pillar smashed the ground nearby. Earth exploded, shock slamming into him, but he braced, then leaped atop it. Instantly, he sprinted up the arm.
Thwip-thwip! Chains shot from the beast, but his speed left them striking empty air.
He raced along the arm. The beast thrashed to shake him off, but he clung tenaciously, inching toward the torso.
Realizing swings weren't enough, the highest-grade mutated its arm.
"Damn it!"
Spines burst forth, chains spewed everywhere. Ludenberg desperately parried and dodged, reaching the shoulder at last.
But then chains exploded from shoulder and torso—far more than before. He couldn't deflect them all. They bound him.
Crunch!
"Ngh!"
He struggled, but the constriction was immense, crushing pressure building horrifically... and then the beast's opposite fist hammered his restrained form.
Bam!
Pain of instantaneous pulverization hit. Even in the Starting Knight's body, Ludenberg died on the spot.
* * *
Ludenberg awoke amid excruciating agony.
"Gah!"
The sensation of his body being crushed was new even to him. He checked himself frantically for damage.
"Ugh... ngh...!"
Visually, he was fine, but the pain persisted, crushing him. Fighting to stay conscious, he scanned his surroundings: his knight barracks quarters.
"What the hell happened? And this pain..."
> Awake?
"Raha."
> It'll hurt—a lot. Pain you suffer as the Starting Knight in the trial world reflects into reality. Death doesn't, though.
"Damn. This'll kill me."
> Now you see why I didn't start the trial right after you got Liberra.
"...Yeah. Back then, my mind might not have held. Failure equaling death-level pain? The cost-benefit sucks. Do we repeat until success?"
> Exactly. The first trial ends when you slay the highest-grade as the Starting Knight.
"That's horrifying."
Ludenberg replied through gritted teeth. Lingering pain still tormented him relentlessly.
> It'll be brutally painful and exhausting to keep going. But Ludenberg—failure isn't all bad.
"What?"
> Remember what I said before entering? The pain etched into your body now will strengthen your flesh. The more trials you endure, the tougher you'll get. Check your body.
Hearing this, Ludenberg endured the onslaught with superhuman fortitude, tested his limbs, and froze in astonishment.
"This is...?"