Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Rayman and Geher
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"Not bad at all. Feels like my body's twenty years younger. My lifespan hasn't changed, but at least I can live out the rest of my days a bit more comfortably."
The emperor, who had consumed the Firefly Crystal Fruit before the assembled crowd, leaned back against his throne with a noticeably relaxed expression. The faces of the people who had hurriedly departed in shock were filled with awe and envy.
The desire for that small fruit the emperor had swallowed had naturally overcome their fear of standing before the throne. Knowing that those who had witnessed his greed would seek out the priest, the emperor had ordered the Heavenly Knight Order to guard Kyle closely.
"Madeleine. What do you make of it?"
The emperor didn't bother elevating his speech in front of this man.
He had the qualifications for it.
"It's undoubtedly the power of the Ancient Gods. I'm certain of it."
"And the darkness within you—has it vanished?"
"That immovable obsidian aura of Grimudo, which refused to budge no matter how hard I tried to drive it out, melted away like ice in the sun the moment it touched that light."
The man called Madeleine gazed at the sanctuary's beacon, lost in thought.
"The power of the Demon King Grimudo is something even the Three Major Gods couldn't overcome. Nothing short of the laws of the universe itself could unilaterally overwhelm that Demon King's might like this."
"Madeleine... no, I'll call you Sir Rayman from now on. Sir Rayman, I've refrained from asking out of respect for your dignity until now, but I need an answer."
He hadn't asked before, but now he needed to know.
At the emperor's question, the old man called Rayman recoiled in disgust. It wasn't that the answer was difficult—it seemed recalling those events alone was painful.
"Just how vast is Grimudo's power that even someone like you couldn't overcome a mere fragment of it, suffering all these years?"
"His obsidian aura devours and assimilates all the mana in the world."
The old man called Sir Rayman didn't provide the answer. Instead, another elderly man slowly approached from behind, hands clasped behind his back.
If the nobles had seen this man, they would have been quite shocked. The treasure keeper of the imperial treasury, an old man whose name was unknown—why was he here?
Did this man hold such high standing that he could face the emperor directly?
"That bastard's aura spread through our mana circuits during the battle, permeating our entire bodies. It seized every corner of our circuits, hardening them and controlling the flow of mana. It clung to our circuits like a leech, sticky and corrupting."
"We tried drawing on holy power to push it out, borrowing magical energies, even consuming elixirs. But it persisted relentlessly. No remedy worked. It was just a fragment of his power, yet we had no way to reverse the corruption."
"Because of that, neither I nor my friend here could draw mana from the world or recover it naturally. We were unable to wield our full strength all this time. And we're lucky it stopped there—thanks to our advanced realms. A lesser Master would have had their entire body's mana assimilated, eroded, and devoured by the obsidian aura."
Indeed. This man's name was the Hermit Geher.
He was a challenger from a bygone era who, alongside the stoic Rayman, had faced the primordial Demon King. But that challenge had been possible only because they knew nothing of Grimudo.
Master Rayman still trembled with rage at their own foolishness whenever he thought of that day.
"No Master on the continent could match us, so we dubbed ourselves Grand Masters. Blind to the truth that self-bestowed titles are empty vanities and only those bestowed by others hold weight, we let arrogance sweep us into challenging that Demon King of the far north."
"My friend and I weren't even worthy opponents. We only realized it after clashing once. Why that monster didn't bother conquering the continent or playing at emperor."
Could you believe that the mana aura that had naturally seeped into their bodies during the battle still lingered within them decades later, exerting its toxicity?
Their realms were so profound that it merely halted there, but a weaker person in the same situation would have had their entire mana devoured by the obsidian aura, dying a gruesome death.
With such a vast gap between them and others, worldly power held no appeal.
They themselves were already power and authority—would adding a title like emperor bring them any joy?
"In my view,"
Sir Rayman sighed.
"To confront Grimudo, we'll need that figure from five hundred years ago to return."
Of course, he wasn't referring to the founding emperor.
That man had inherited dragon blood and ascended to the Master's realm on his own. But no matter how legendary the founding emperor's feats, they meant nothing before the primordial Demon King.
Even an emperor is powerless alone without allies. Just as Rayman and Geher now stood by the current emperor, similar figures had supported the founding emperor back then.
The Masterless Swordsman. Master Heron. It was this man who ended the chaos five hundred years ago and established the new order embodied by the empire. Then, he vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.
"Facing the sword he left behind allowed us to shed our false titles."
The Hermit Geher acknowledged it too. They had thought themselves Grand Masters, but in truth, they were merely stronger Masters.
What is a Grand Master? Even a Master is called the pinnacle of humanity.
The concept of Grand Master isn't even properly established yet. So those who feel stronger than other Masters simply claim the title for themselves.
But now they knew. Throughout history, there has been only one being truly worthy of the name.
Just that one person from five hundred years ago.
He never sought out the primordial Demon King, nor did the Demon King seek him. So no one knows who held the advantage.
But at the very least, that man wouldn't have been helplessly defeated by Grimudo like they were. On that point alone, Rayman and Geher would stake their fortunes.
"At any rate, your recoveries are truly fortuitous. Just to be sure, you're not planning to head back north to settle things with Grimudo, are you?"
The two old men gave awkward laughs at the emperor's jest.
Settle things with Grimudo? How dare they? They lacked both the right and the ability.
Returning north would only add two corpses—vengeance would be impossible.
"If you're willing to stay by my side anyway, could you assist me once or twice more?"
The emperor finally broached the main topic. The two Masters readily agreed.
It was this emperor who had sheltered them in the imperial palace after their crushing defeat at Grimudo's hands and their flight to the empire, aiding their recovery all these years.
The debt wasn't one to repay with their lives, but it had undeniably touched them deeply.
"It's no trouble. Speak."
"I want to test my son."
The emperor continued slowly. The two weren't particularly surprised.
Hiding in the palace and observing such matters—was this their first or second time? It was practically an annual event.
"Edmund—that boy—could raise a rebellion, and it wouldn't be a disaster. If he has the ability to usurp my throne, I'd gladly yield it and acknowledge his talent. But my son has allied with the temple. The temple cares only for the will of the god they serve, regardless of what becomes of our empire's lands."
"If the goddess desires it, do you think the empire's interests register with them? There have been countless struggles for the throne, and I wasn't even the crown prince. Yet not one of those who claimed the throne sold off the empire's territory for it."
The emperor truly spoke from the heart—he didn't want to break that precedent.
If he were truly ruthless, he would have executed Edmund on the spot as an example.
If he had a touch more mercy, he might have forced him out of the succession struggle, stripped his faction's power, and granted him a minor post. Giving one more chance instead showed he was, after all, only human.
The emperor was a decent ruler in many ways, but when it came to his children, he fell short. In fact, things had spiraled this far because he couldn't be harsh with them. It was his greatest flaw as a sovereign.
"I've climbed to this seat wading through blood, so in my twilight years, I have no desire to see more. I don't know. It all depends on that boy in the end."
Raising a rebellion to become emperor wasn't an issue. It would prove his capability, and the emperor might even hand over this heavy burden immediately. The empire sorely needed such talent now.
But the third prince had allied with the temple faction and begun selling out the empire's interests. Assassinating the crown prince with their backing alone crossed the line. That's why, despite his worsening illness, the emperor hadn't named the third prince heir.
Yet handing the throne to someone else? Even among his own children, none met his standards.
He had even considered—though it never went beyond thought—adopting an heir. With Arden's return, his options had increased by one.
"Now, I truly don't want to see more blood. Family blood is enough from my youth. It's not for this age."
But an emperor who sells the empire's interests to another power?
Even if it's his son, that's unforgivable. So the emperor sincerely hoped Edmund would pass his test.
He wished his children couldn't forgive each other but could at least tolerate one another—though he doubted it.
Deep down, he knew it wouldn't happen.
"That's why I'm doing this despite knowing the answer. Perhaps it's just a way to console myself."
"What's the plan?"
"We'll crush them if they show their hand first."
Despite the rejuvenation from the Firefly Crystal Fruit, his face suddenly looked a decade older.
"A little pressure on that boy, and all the answers will emerge. I can only pray Edmund doesn't make the worst choice. Then I... I'll have no choice either."
Family quarrels are hard to meddle in.
The two old men deliberately looked away, pretending not to hear. But inwardly, they memorized the emperor's plan.
"Well then, let's rise. I won't take more of your valuable time. Ah, Sir Rayman—on your way, relay a message to the imperial chamberlain? I'd like to invite my daughter and that priest to dinner."
No need to ask which daughter. Rayman nodded.
"Oh, and have them bring that child Roca as well. Whether two or three, it won't make a difference."
If that child truly was the hero chosen by the Hope Goddess, there was something the emperor needed to convey to her.
The Hermit Geher asked, his expression one of surprise.
"You're giving her a chance to claim that sword?"
"It's not mine to give, nor can it be drawn at my command. That sword never belonged to me in the first place."
Before departing, the Masterless Swordsman had thrust his blade into the ground and vanished. Many imperial royals had tried to claim it since, but the sword never responded. It wasn't left for Illumena's descendants.
Though housed in the palace, the sword was meant for someone beyond the royals.
Even Rayman and Geher hadn't been chosen as its master. They had merely grasped it and gained enlightenment, advancing beyond their previous limits.
"It's all up to the sword. I can only provide the opportunity."
The emperor himself, in his vigorous youth, had once toiled to unravel the sword's secrets, believing it held the key to the Masterless Swordsman's strength.
Now he understood. The sword wasn't his, never had been, and he was merely its custodian.
Like Rayman and Geher today, the Masterless Swordsman had been less the founding emperor's retainer and more his equal partner. No records remained of how he viewed the founding emperor, but it was clear he wouldn't approve of his legacy becoming the royals' exclusive prize.
That alone showed the imperial authority faced inherent constraints from the start. Master-level powerhouses, who could surpass entire groups as individuals, were beyond even an emperor's commands—only requests, on more equal terms.
But was imperial authority alone like that? It was the same everywhere.
It wasn't a disadvantage unique to the empire, so whenever the emperor surveyed his lands, he felt apologetic toward his ancestors. The situation had been poor when he ascended, but a monarch answers with results, not excuses.
If he couldn't manage it, he never should have worn the crown. Who could an emperor blame for national affairs but himself?
"I've made countless mistakes in my life."
The old man sighed, gazing at his reflection in the window.
"Those mistakes have tangled into a knot that can't be undone without someone dying. I know a blade can sever it, yet here I am, foolishly trying to untie it by hand."
That's why he couldn't pass the responsibility to the next generation. Whatever the outcome, he had to resolve it in his lifetime.
Even if that outcome tore his heart apart. It was his duty as emperor.
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