Chapter 140
Chapter 140
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 140
Chapter Title: Amon's Scissors
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[...]
However, the Martial God did not answer my plea right away.
Not only that, but something seemed a little off.
'Martial God...?'
When I called out cautiously, the Martial God replied in a somewhat gruff tone.
[...Disciple, it seems your reasons for calling upon me lately have been rather disrespectful. Or is it just my imagination?]
Disrespectful...
What on earth could he mean?
It wasn't that I didn't know the meaning of the word; I just didn't understand.
As I stood there trying to guess his thoughts, the Martial God sighed and spoke.
[Disciple, I am the Martial God.]
'Yes...'
[Not a historian, not a sorcerer, and certainly not an antiques dealer.]
'...Hmm.'
[I would welcome any questions about the martial arts at any time. But to be summoned repeatedly for reasons such as this... frankly, it is rather unpleasant.]
...Is he sulking?
I was sure he had reasons more complex than that simple phrase could convey, but my vocabulary wasn't rich enough to think of a better expression.
I thought for a moment...
But I've always had a set way of dealing with sulking people.
'I apologize.'
[...]
'I never dreamed you felt that way. It was my oversight.'
My method was to bow my head first and ask questions later.
[Hmm...]
'You have been so kind, Martial God, that I must have unknowingly crossed a line. I apologize. From now on, I will never call upon you unless it is a matter of martial arts.'
[...Ahem.]
The Martial God cleared his throat slightly and then spoke.
[Well, there's no need to go that far...]
Just as I thought.
Just like someone with his rigid personality, he gets flustered when the other party bows their head to an excessive degree.
I learned that when I had to placate him after he got upset back in Hell.
[...I simply mean you should not call upon me so frequently for such trivial matters. As I am residing within you, disciple, it can be quite lonely. So long as you moderate the frequency, it could be a welcome diversion for me as well.]
'Thank you. Your heart is as vast as the ocean.'
[Are you being sarcastic?]
'...Of course not.'
But he wasn't unperceptive, so I should refrain from excessive flattery.
In any case, the Martial God finally seemed to look around before speaking.
[A treasury. Are you asking me to choose the most valuable item in this place?]
'Yes.'
[Hmm. A rather difficult proposition.]
I asked cautiously.
'In what way?'
[An item's value is inherently fluid. It changes based on supply and demand, how much you need it, whether you will ever have another chance to obtain it if you miss this one... Its price changes depending on various factors. Therefore, from a universal perspective, the value of jewels or ornaments is the most stable.]
The Martial God seemed to point somewhere.
[For example... something like that.]
In the direction he indicated lay a gem that looked precious even at a glance.
[That is a Crimson Ruby. It is a gem so precious it is called the king of precious metals.]
Hong-ok.
In other words, rubies, which were the most valuable gems in this country.
The reason, which was now obvious, was their sacred red color.
Moreover, the Crimson Ruby the Martial God pointed to looked far brighter and more vivid than any ruby I knew.
'I don't particularly need a jewel, though...'
[I thought as much. In that case, what you truly desire is not an item of conventional value, but something you need right now.]
'That's the problem, actually. There's nothing I need right now.'
At that, the Martial God burst into laughter.
[Nothing you need...? Arrogant words. In my eyes, you are still lacking in a mountain of ways.]
'For example?'
[You have yet to complete the White Sun Eclipse. Your pill refinement methods also need improvement, and the harmony between your inner and outer self is not yet perfectly unified. Your musculoskeletal development is also insufficient.]
'Most of those are problems that time will solve.'
[Indeed.]
The Martial God chuckled and continued.
[However, the weapons commonly known as Divine Arms share a common trait. They allow one to experience a state of mastery one has yet to reach.]
'Hmm... what do you mean by that?'
[For instance, a block of steel that is impossible to cut at your current level can be sliced like tofu with what is called a divine sword. If you wear armor that cannot be scratched by a blade, strengthening your muscles becomes a lower priority.]
'Ah...'
I finally understood what the Martial God was saying, and at the same time, I found it a fresh perspective.
The Martial God wasn't treating a weapon as just a weapon.
[Therefore, becoming engrossed in Divine Arms is a dangerous thing. There are often those who mistake a glimpse of mastery, obtained through a trick, for their own true level. However...]
The Martial God seemed to trail off intentionally, so I finished his thought.
'Putting that aside, using a superior weapon is always advantageous in a fight, I presume.'
[That is correct.]
That was a little surprising.
From the Martial God's tone and atmosphere, I had pictured him as a very rigid and prideful martial artist.
Yet in matters like this, he held a remarkably practical view.
I suddenly became curious.
Before he was the Martial God, what kind of life had he lived?
[Hmm...? This presence—]
Just then, the Martial God's voice took on a note of puzzlement.
'Is something wrong?'
[Disciple, go to your left.]
'To the left?'
Though puzzled, I obediently walked in the direction the Martial God indicated.
[A little further, just a bit more... Now, stop.]
The place where I finally stopped held an object that seemed rather out of place in this dazzling treasury.
A vicious tool with two wickedly crossed blades, capable of cutting anything that got in its way.
In other words...
'Scissors?'
[Mm.]
The Martial God looked at the scissors with a complex expression before speaking.
[Could you touch them for a moment?]
'Sure.'
I picked up the scissors.
Their blades were covered in rust. They seemed incredibly old; I doubted they could even cut a strand of hair.
[Just as I thought...]
The Martial God let out a sound like a gasp.
'What is this thing?'
[...It is one of the few Holy Relics left on the continent.]
'A Holy Relic?'
[A medium that can connect directly with a god. Perhaps... the people of this era would call it a Divine Relic.]
"Ah!"
An exclamation escaped my lips without me realizing it.
I finally understood what the Martial God was talking about.
He was referring to a relic of the gods.
One of the treasures among treasures, of which only ninety-nine existed on this vast continent.
I had encountered a Divine Relic before.
[Vine's Chains]
I had seen Ludwig use them back at the family estate. Of course, that had been a replica...
But it was incredible for a mere imitation.
'Wait a minute... now that I think about it, isn't the Seven Sins Sword also a Divine Relic?'
The Nameless King was one of the five kings revered as gods after their deaths.
Of course, the Seven Sins Sword wasn't the only famous weapon symbolizing the Nameless King, so it might be a bit ambiguous.
'Are these scissors the original, not a replica?'
[They are.]
If the Martial God was this certain, it had to be true... but I couldn't help but look down at the scissors with a hint of suspicion.
'...It looks too shabby for a Divine Relic.'
[It must have been neglected for a long time. It seems it wasn't excavated that long ago either.]
'I see.'
[It can be used as is, but it risks breaking after two or three uses. You must find a master blacksmith to carefully remove the rust and reinforce it.]
'A master blacksmith...'
The dwarves, natural-born artisans, were the first to come to mind.
Should I have gotten closer to the dwarf Leader Cadet at the training retreat? The one who was always next to Hector.
'His name was Basil Jule, I'm sure of it.'
Well, it wasn't urgent, so it was fine for now.
I asked the most important question.
'So, is this thing expensive?'
[...]
The Martial God stated as if making a declaration.
[If I were offered everything in this treasury, I would still choose this one pair of scissors.]
I grinned.
That settles it.
***
At the same time.
Thud...!
Alderson, who had been anxiously watching the monitor, fell out of his chair.
"De-Dean...?! Are you alright?"
"Ugh, uuuugh...! My, my treasure...! My treasure! My [Amon's Scissors]...!"
"De-Dean?!"
"The Dean is having a seizure! Qu-Quickly, get him to the infirmary!"
"Gyaaaaaah—!"
***
[Amon's Scissors].
That seemed to be the name of this pair of scissors.
I heard that there was nothing they couldn't cut.
It was an incredibly overpowered ability, but there was one important catch.
'...It doesn't seem particularly threatening. Not at this size.'
What could one possibly cut with something of this width?
A finger, maybe an ear? With difficulty, perhaps even a tongue.
It seemed far more threatening to sharpen the blades and stab with them.
[Amon's Scissors are currently in a sealed state. Once the rust is removed and they are reinforced, they will reveal their true form.]
'Hmm.'
If the Martial God said so, it must be true.
Nodding to myself, I went over to Seren.
While I had been choosing the scissors, she seemed to have melted all the ice in her mouth.
A quick glance told me she had digested it well.
Though not all the elixir had been absorbed, her aura had definitely changed.
"Did you pick something?"
"Yeah."
"What did you get?"
I silently showed her the old pair of scissors in my hand.
I was curious if she would recognize them.
"...Ugly scissors. You have bad taste."
Looks like she doesn't know what they are.
It didn't seem like she was that curious in the first place.
In any case, Seren and I finally left the treasury.
It had taken a bit longer than expected, but we were finally ready to face the trial.
Opening the door at the end of the treasury, we were greeted by a spacious area...
I found the dimensions of the space familiar.
"A training hall."
Seren must have had a similar thought, as she voiced my inner sentiment.
"It's called the Floor of Sparring, right? I guess we'll be sparring with someone here."
There was indeed another large door on the opposite side.
[-That is correct.]
A voice echoed from the air.
It wasn't the mechanical voice that had been explaining the tower's situation, but the voice of Dean Alderson.
It sounded strangely suppressed, and even more than that, exhausted.
Seren asked.
"You said we wouldn't be fighting each other. So who is our opponent? Another Leader Cadet?"
[Indeed.]
I felt a little let down.
Another Leader Cadet.
Did he mean we were supposed to fight other Leader Cadets two-on-two here?
'I don't see how we could lose.'
It was obvious which of the Leader Cadets would make it to the 4th floor.
Caron, Hector, Nabi... with some luck, maybe Evan.
But not only me, Seren was also no less skilled than Caron or Hector.
Whoever came up, the fight would be completely one-sided.
So the problem was when those guys would make it to the 4th floor...
[Humans are evolving beings.]
Just then, Dean Alderson said something completely out of the blue.
[To evolve, one must overcome the past. And I designed this place—the 'Floor of Sparring'—to observe that process with my own two eyes.]
"...What are you suddenly talking about?"
[I admit it. You are not on the level of ordinary Leader Cadets. You are already at a level comparable to active heroes.]
And then I felt Alderson's gaze on me.
[Especially you, Ruan Bednicker. Your physical abilities were astonishing. I believed the top rankings of the 3rd floor would not change until the day the 'Tower of Trials' closed... but you set a record so overwhelming it made my prediction seem foolish. That data was of great help to me. I thank you for that in advance.]
"..."
Alderson was a sorcerer through and through.
The way he'd suddenly get lost in his own world and spout nonsense proved it.
I couldn't say anything rude since he was the dean, so I just exchanged a glance with Seren and sighed...
Alderson's voice continued.
[This tower meticulously records everything about its climbers. Not just physical abilities, but the martial arts they use, their characteristics, personality, speech patterns, habits, and quirks, without exception. What is recorded is then stored in individual forms within puppets.]
"...Stored?"
[My name is Alderson Marve. The dean of Cartel Academy, a member of the Seven Colors that streak across the heavens—and the empire's one and only Puppet Master.]
Lise also introduced herself like that. Is there some kind of rule for how sorcerers introduce themselves?
Putting aside such a useless question, the atmosphere was getting a little strange.
"What's a Puppet Master?"
"An 'inhyeongsa'."
"What's an 'inhyeongsa'?"
"Someone who controls puppets."
"...Like in a circus?"
Seren sighed and said.
"If they were those kinds of puppets, they'd at least be cute."
Alderson's voice continued.
[The 4th floor of the Tower of Trials—the Trial of Sparring. Here, the climber must face beings of the past. To be honest, I am quite looking forward to this myself. It has been decades since I built the tower, but this is the first time I am sending out these two puppets at the same time...]
Rumble...
With a magnificent sound, the iron door on the opposite side opened.
Seren and I turned our gazes toward it.
"......!"
As if on cue, our expressions hardened simultaneously.
The faces of the Leader Cadets who appeared were figures who far surpassed our expectations.
[-Leone. And Delac Bednicker.]
Alderson said in a satisfied voice.
[To face the overall 1st rank, I have no choice but to bring out these two masterpieces.]
"..."
I finally understood what Dean Alderson meant.
So... Dean Alderson had been meticulously recording every single detail of the Leader Cadets' physical abilities as they climbed the tower.
And he had infused that biological data directly into puppets.
'This crazy old man...'
And I thought he was normal compared to Asad or Lise?
I take it back.
Dean Alderson was far more sinister and dangerous than either of them.
Seren clicked her tongue.
"So you're saying if it weren't for your score, we could have fought against relatively easier puppets."
"...My apologies."
"Forget it."
Seren's gaze shifted to the puppets.
"The Iron-Blooded Duke wasn't the strongest from birth, was he? He couldn't have been as strong as he is now when he was a student at the academy. That Leone person looks about our age or younger, too... Besides, no matter how precise the puppets are, they won't be able to use a Blessing, so the fight itself should be manageable."
"Hmm."
I agreed with Seren, but... something felt off.
Shing—.
Leone's puppet drew its sword.
Watching it, I recalled the records I had viewed on the 3rd floor.
'Overall rank 2, Leone.'
No last name meant he was a commoner...
But the Leone I saw with my own eyes... or rather, Leone's puppet, exuded an air of nobility.
In fact, that wasn't the only strange thing.
I watched Leone, as if scouting him out, before speaking first.
"I'll take Leone. You take care of our Family Head."
"You want me to take on the Iron-Blooded Duke?"
"Just so you don't misunderstand, I'm not dumping him on you. This is a strategy to win."
Seren paused for a moment before replying.
"A matter of matchups?"
"Something like that."
"...Alright. But I can't hold out for long."
"I'll join you as quickly as I can."
The moment Seren nodded...
The battle began without any particular signal.
Tap! I dashed towards Leone, drawing the Seven Sins Sword. I still lacked information on my opponent, so I planned to start with a probing attack using my sword.
Clang!
"...Haha!"
The moment our blades clashed, Leone's puppet unexpectedly burst into laughter. The expression was so human that I was slightly taken aback.
Clang! Clang!
A second exchange, a third.
With each successive clash of our swords, my wrist throbbed. This swordsmanship was no clumsy, third-rate style.
It was powerful and systematic. In other words, it had a sense of history. Just like the secret sword arts of a prestigious family.
Would a commoner have had the chance to learn such swordsmanship? His proficiency was also extraordinary.
Moreover, Leone wielded this swordsmanship with a wild flair... The ability to blend his own unique style into the sword art without any hesitation meant his mastery as a swordsman was incredibly high.
It was more difficult to deal with than a rigid, by-the-book style. It felt like a proper variation had been added to an orthodox sword art.
The vague premonition I had at first had now become a certainty.
'Just as I thought.'
At this point in time, Leone was stronger than the Iron-Blooded Duke.
And that wasn't all.
"...You, you're a child of Bednicker."
I thought as I looked into the red eyes that curved into a smile.
"You're quite strong."
...Is this thing really a puppet?