The Fool's Resolve

The swordsmanship that my master, Libero, had shown me. It was only a fraction of his true skill. Yet, even that fraction was his absolute essence. There was no guarantee I could ever reach that level. In fact, the odds were heavily stacked against me. Still, if I can at least get close to it...

My obsession with his swordsmanship stemmed from my past experience in character cultivation. Ever since I discovered that inheriting the Royal Emblem allowed a character to become Libero's disciple, I had passed it down to numerous characters. Having turned so many of them into his students, I had reached a definitive conclusion: there was no faster way to raise one's swordsmanship proficiency in this game than becoming his disciple. Furthermore, the swordsmanship learned from him held an almost absolute advantage over other swordsmanship skills of the same rank. At equal ranks, I had never once lost a duel. Back when I was just playing the game, I assumed there was some hidden stat modifier, but now I knew the real reason. It simply meant Libero's swordsmanship was just that powerful.

Against an opponent with similar proficiency, victory was guaranteed. It was, for all intents and purposes, an invincible style. Of course, the Royal Emblem's inheritance trait, Authority of the Reim Royalty, had no notable effects other than the hidden trigger to learn Libero's swordsmanship. The inheritable skills were also riddled with non-combat trap skills like Court Etiquette and Dexterity. Yet, Libero's swordsmanship was so absurdly broken that it completely overshadowed all those drawbacks.

It was especially effective when paired with pure martial fighters like Gwen. Unless one resorted to highly specific methods, the Magic stat was impossible to increase after birth. For Heroes like Gwen, who were naturally deficient in Magic, Libero's swordsmanship somehow synergized perfectly. However, Gwen already possessed the Lidval family's respectable swordsmanship, and even without Libero's tutelage, her growth was incredibly rapid due to her Precocious trait. Thus, I hadn't felt the need to force the Royal Emblem on her.

Weighing all these factors, I had chosen Ersiala's Authority of the Reim Royalty as the next step for cultivating Alan, right after Gwen's Precocious trait. Alan's Magic stat was rock bottom, just like Gwen's. The only difference was that, unlike Gwen, all of Alan's other stats were also at rock bottom.

But until now, Alan had struggled just to leave Basil and head toward Sak. Reaching a cumulative 500 SP to unlock the second inheritance slot was hard enough. If I had taken the Royal Emblem—which offered absolutely nothing of value early on besides the connection to Libero—as my first inheritance, it would have undoubtedly triggered an early-game disaster. Yet, against all odds, I had finally succeeded in guiding Alan all the way to Libero. Now, a smooth, solid path lay ahead of me... Or so I once fondly believed. I closed my eyes as a sharp scolding flew my way.

"Have you already forgotten what I told you?"

Of course I remembered.

"You told me not to bend my waist when slashing."

I remembered it perfectly. My body just wouldn't cooperate. Useless piece of trash. I swung my sword again. Keep the waist straight...

It was at that exact moment.

The effect triggered the instant the thought crossed my mind. Ah, damn it. But Libero had already caught it.

"Alan."

"I know."

I knew I wasn't supposed to use Absolute Obedience. But it wasn't something I could easily control. Even without a conscious decision to use it, the trait would trigger on its own the moment I merely thought about the physical action. Granted, if not for that, I probably would have been killed by that wolf when we first met. It had saved my skin more times than I could count. But right now, it was nothing but a hindrance. Is there really no on/off switch for this thing?

It wasn't as if I hadn't tried.

Deactivate Absolute Obedience.

Deactivate until I tell you to reactivate it.

Deactivate for the next ten minutes.

None of it worked. Perhaps it was a logical paradox—maybe reactivating it would require the use of Absolute Obedience itself. Or maybe it was simply a trait that couldn't be toggled. Honestly, the latter was far more likely.

Well, that's just classic Alan.

By now, I had naturally come to accept this level of defect. I kept swinging my sword. After some time had passed...

"We will end today's lesson here," Libero said, having watched me swing my sword for hours.

At his words, I finally lowered my weapon. Honestly, my body was already at its absolute limit. Libero, who possessed no concept of stamina, seemed entirely oblivious to the need for rest. Meanwhile, Alan's stamina was practically non-existent. Still, Libero always wrapped up the training whenever it was time for my scheduled meals and sleep. Even those were set to the bare minimum I needed to survive.

This is brutally exhausting.

Normally, when I exercised to build up my stamina or strength, I relied heavily on Absolute Obedience. While it was still physically grueling, it felt more like a mechanical process than an act of will, which made it mentally much easier. But now that I was forbidden from using Absolute Obedience during training, I had to swing the sword purely through my own volition.

Doing this entirely on my own drains so much more energy.

Yet, the rate of growth felt noticeably faster than when I relied on the trait. As I began to swing the sword with my own conscious effort, the physical feedback and sensations became far more vivid. There was a clear reason why my swordsmanship growth had been so sluggish despite inheriting Precocious.

But still...

Even if it had sped up slightly, it was still painfully slow. Setting aside any talk of talent limits, my growth was just fundamentally sluggish. I kept making mistakes even on basic techniques that I could have executed flawlessly with Absolute Obedience. Though, as Libero pointed out, execution through Absolute Obedience wasn't true mastery.

"Then, get some rest."

Libero threw on his overcoat and left the basement. He had no need for sleep anyway. While I slept, he would simply wander the streets like a corpse, just as he always did.

He really is an incomprehensible guy.

Thanks to the game, I knew his true identity. But his actions were completely at odds with who he actually was. Normally, he would drink himself into a stupor like a piece of trash and roll around in the streets. Yet, the moment he witnessed an injustice, he couldn't help but intervene as if he were some apostle of justice. Then, he would return to his squalid lifestyle as if nothing had happened.

On the online forums, players had spun countless theories about him. Some guessed he was bound by some sort of contract. Others claimed he didn't actually care about justice and was merely satisfying a latent urge to kill. But in the end, none of those theories were ever proven.

He was a frustrating character from start to finish.

He was incredibly strong, yet deeply pessimistic. He was righteous, yet never proactive. Well, it didn't really matter to me. All I needed was to learn his swordsmanship. I turned my gaze away from his retreating, weary figure as he walked out of the basement.

"How frustrating..." Libero muttered to himself, entirely unaware of what his disciple in the basement thought of him. "How could someone like him spring from her bloodline?"

He couldn't comprehend it. The presence he felt from the boy was undoubtedly the royal authority. Moreover, seeing how the boy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠utilized an inventory, he was clearly sponsored by a Constellation. Yet, his talent was barely a cut above an ordinary person's. And though the boy himself didn't realize it, even that meager talent was only because it had been artificially dragged up by the Precocious trait.

With such mediocre talent, where does he get that confidence from?

He recalled the boy's words.

"Prove to me that I can never become a high-level Hero. If you can do that, I'll accept it and back down."

"No, even if that's the case, I must prove it to myself. Even if the result of that proof turns out to be false..."

"I cannot give up."

It was laughable. That someone with so little talent could shout such things with a straight face. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to mock the boy. The youth's desperate struggle mirrored his own past self all too closely.

I, too, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠once believed I could reach the absolute pinnacle of swordsmanship.

Unlike the boy, Libero's own talent had been nothing short of genius. His skills had improved by leaps and bounds every single day, making his dream of reaching the "pinnacle of swordsmanship" seem entirely within reach. Indeed, he had grown continuously stronger, eventually reaching a realm where no one could match him in a duel.

Except for that man.

The founder of the Reim Kingdom. The only person who had ever been able to clash swords with him on equal terms. That man had always told him that if anyone could reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship, it would be him. But now that the man was dead, Libero knew those words had been nothing but a lie.

He had desperately wanted to reach the end of the path. But the limitations of mortality were too numerous. And so, he abandoned his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠human body. He forged a contract with a transcendent being. In the end, swordsmanship was the only thing he had left. And yet...

I still couldn't reach the end.

It had been nothing more than the empty dream of a foolish child. The pinnacle of swordsmanship was a destination that simply did not exist. Now that he knew this truth, why was he even still living?

Perhaps I was simply envious of him.

Even if it was an impossible delusion, he envied the boy for having a purpose to live for right now. At the same time, it pricked his conscience. Compared to the boy, he was merely idling away his existence, doing nothing while clinging to lingering regrets. That was why he had accepted the boy's request. It was a faint, desperate hope that perhaps this youth could change him, even if only a little.

So, had he changed at all?

Who knows.

He let out a faint chuckle.

I feel like I've just picked up a fool.

Though, if that were true, then he was the biggest fool of all for taking him in.

Just then, a group of armed men entering a nearby building caught his eye. Tattoos of a vermilion bird were etched onto their forearms.

Time for my trivial little hobby.

He manifested a mask out of thin air. It was a hero's mask that had been popular among children when he was young, though after all these centuries, not a single soul alive would recognize it.

What was its name again...?

He couldn't quite recall. But the shape of the mask was close enough. Placing the mask over his face, he vanished from the spot in an instant.

"Hey, Violet. What did you say?"

"Does that mean Laus, who was inspecting the Sak border, has also withdrawn?"

"Without even telling me?"

The Demon King Guineus, who was currently on a call with the Demon King Violet, fumed with rage. With her lustrous long black hair and pale skin, she possessed an undeniably captivating appearance, but right now, she was the very definition of pure irritation.

"It's already a massive headache dealing with that bastard running wild around here day in and day out. If we have to deal with another one on top of that..."

Her black hair began to tremble with rage.

"No guarantee?! The only places connected to Basil via the Gate are this place and the Holy City Heilen!"

"Where is your proof?"

A brief silence hung over the line. Then, a tiny, meek voice squeaked out.

"Then tell that old hag right now: if it's confirmed that the slayer of the 71st has slipped into Sak, I'm not going to play nice with the bastard running wild on my turf ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anymore either."

Guineus cut off the connection, leaving Violet hanging. She had no idea if Violet would actually pass the message along, but she had made her stance crystal clear. If Violet failed to deliver it, that was on her.