Chapter 228
Chapter 228
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 228
Chapter Title: The Second Hundred-Pace Ritual (2)
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“I’ve come to end this fight—Chapter 228 (228/445)”
“ Hundred-Pace Ritual?”
“What’s that?”
Duran’s shout left the 51st Batch looking utterly baffled.
That bewilderment was the last moment of leisure they would enjoy.
The Hundred-Pace Ritual had already begun.
Boom-!
The Sword Lord’s crimson aura, which had blanketed the sky, came crashing down into the arena.
And then.
Thud-.
Plop-.
Splatter-.
The 51st Batch collapsed in droves, fainting without knowing what hit them.
That left just 27 still standing.
Duran bellowed his scripted line at them.
“There is only one thing you must do in this Hundred-Pace Ritual. Walk. Toward the great master of the sword. This is the trial the Sword Lord has bestowed upon you!”
With that, he slyly stepped back to observe.
‘The ones who made it out of the Forest of Beginnings aren’t many… but the survivors must have some real skill.’
Compared to last year’s 50th Cohort Hundred-Pace Ritual, 27 out of 85 was a solid ratio.
Of course, that alone didn’t reveal the full potential of the 51st Batch.
The real Hundred-Pace Ritual started now.
‘Come on, show me what you’ve got! I’ll cheer for anyone who can surpass that monster from last year!’
He desperately hoped someone would emerge to put Yuri in his place!
Buoyed by Duran’s fervent well-wishes, a few from the 51st Batch began to take steps forward.
* * *
Thud-thud-.
As the Hundred-Pace Ritual got underway, the 51st Batch toppled over like rotten rice stalks.
Some foamed at the mouth in unconsciousness, while others soiled themselves in the dirt. The sight made the 50th Cohort shudder involuntarily.
‘…Damn, was that me last year?’
‘I-I at least didn’t piss myself!’
Of the 50th Cohort, only about fifty had endured without fainting from the start last year.
In other words, about half of those now seated in the stands had ended up sprawled out just like these 51st Batch recruits.
Amid the pallid faces recalling grim memories sat Gunter.
He marveled repeatedly at the Sword Lord’s aura, which only affected the arena.
‘To control such overwhelming energy with such precision… As expected of the Sword Lord.’
Last year, he’d been too busy flailing in those dense waves of pressure to notice. Observing from afar now let him appreciate the details.
It also drove home just how immense the Sword Lord’s power truly was.
As Gunter gazed down at the arena.
‘They’re moving.’
A few from the 51st Batch started to stir.
And leading them was.
The powerfully built Moochi Schnell.
“Uwaaaah!”
Moochi’s face flushed beet red as he took his first step.
The others followed in his wake, just as he and his cohort had chased after Yuri last year.
Gunter stared in astonishment at Moochi, who pressed forward ahead of everyone.
‘Moochi Schnell, was it?’
Gunter had first laid eyes on Moochi just one or two hours ago.
Upon returning from the Forest of Beginnings, there was this 51st Batch kid chowing down in the Demon King’s Castle like he owned the place.
Yuri’s acquaintance and a junior who’d be living with them from now on.
Gunter’s first impression had been of a kind, gentle soul.
The sort whose temperament made it hard to believe he knew Yuri.
They’d parted ways for the Hundred-Pace Ritual, and seeing him again now shifted Gunter’s view.
‘So he’s not just some soft pushover.’
Moochi Schnell.
Gunter knew full well whose surname that was.
He’d figured anyone inheriting it wouldn’t be ordinary.
Plus, even from a brief glance earlier, Moochi’s presence felt formidable.
Gunter had wondered if the kid’s overly kind vibe held him back from his true potential… but apparently not.
Pushing ahead of his peers like that.
It marked him as a fitting addition to the Cradle.
The moment Gunter formed that assessment.
“Little bro, you got this!”
“Go, our baby bro!”
“I’m hungry!”
Voices erupted from beside him.
Teresa, Arin, and Poppi were cheering Moochi on at the top of their lungs.
Gunter muttered in disbelief.
“…Already calling him ‘little bro’ like they’re that close?”
He’d been away for barely a day and a half.
Yet Moochi had already blended into the Demon King’s Castle without a hint of awkwardness.
It left Gunter a touch miffed.
‘Some of us spent months together without a single cheer.’
Gunter turned back to the arena to hide his pouty expression.
Right on cue, Moochi was taking his third step.
The pout vanished from Gunter’s face, replaced by solemn focus.
‘He’s still holding up.’
Unlike the followers dropping one by one, Moochi looked vigorous even after three full steps.
Proving it, as the others barely managed their second, he took his fourth.
Boom-.
“Ughhh!”
Moochi finally completed his fourth step.
“Huff… huff-.”
He panted heavily.
And then.
“Hup!”
Inhaling deeply, he lifted his foot again.
Gunter clicked his tongue in admiration.
“Impressive.”
He didn’t know Moochi’s raw talent.
But judging purely by physical conditioning and cultivation level, Moochi far surpassed Gunter at this point last year.
‘No, it’s more than that. In terms of bodily toughness and cultivation alone, he matches the upper ranks of the current 50th Cohort.’
To enter the Cradle on par with the top of a cohort that had trained a full year.
Among recent arrivals, few could boast such polish.
‘Of course, the Hundred-Pace Ritual isn’t decided by those alone…’
If it were just physical training and cultivation dictating steps, then Poppi and Gunter would’ve outdone Yuri last year.
Yuri himself wouldn’t have made it past half of fifteen steps.
‘That’s why Yuri’s the remarkable one.’
Managing fifteen steps with mere unofficial Grade 1 skill.
Then advancing to unfathomable heights in a year.
And the force behind it all? Yuri’s mental fortitude.
His indomitable, unyielding will.
‘Moochi Schnell… I wonder if you’ve got that too?’
Gunter eyed Moochi with keen interest as he strained for his fifth step, then glanced behind him.
“Urk!”
“Guhhh!”
Most behind Moochi had collapsed.
Only three struggled to keep pace.
At a mere three steps, no less.
But that didn’t last.
Boom-.
“Khk!”
When Moochi hit five, two of the three crumpled before three steps.
Boom-.
“Uwaaaack!”
As Moochi attempted his sixth, the last one tumbled at four.
And then.
Boom-.
“……!”
Moochi let out a silent roar and planted his sixth step perfectly.
Now, he alone remained standing in the arena.
Six steps.
Last year, neither Poppi nor Arin had completed six full steps.
Only Gunter had.
In other words, Moochi matched Gunter’s record.
But Moochi hadn’t fallen yet.
His back hunched severely.
Skin flushed crimson.
Legs trembling violently.
He was at his limit, yet he extended his foot again.
Toward the seventh step.
“Moochi!”
“Little bro, hang in there!”
“I’m hungry!”
Amid the trio’s resounding cheers echoing in the silence.
Boom-.
“Urk!”
Moochi finally succeeded with a heavy step.
The instant he completed seven.
Crack-.
His knee buckled, pitching his upper body forward.
“Ughh!”
He strained to rise again.
But he couldn’t manage it easily.
The spectators watching figured this was his limit.
Seven steps—the 51st Batch’s best.
Impressive enough, they nodded approvingly.
The moment they assumed the 51st Batch’s Hundred-Pace Ritual was over.
Step-.
He appeared.
Step-step-.
Through the same passage the 51st Batch had entered, ‘he’ stepped into the arena.
The stands fell utterly silent.
‘He’s here.’
‘That guy.’
‘The real show… starts now.’
By rights, the 51st Batch’s ritual should’ve been today’s highlight.
But last year, one boy’s bold demand to the Sword Lord.
[Let’s do a few more rounds of this.]
That changed the meaning of this year’s Hundred-Pace Ritual.
From a welcome ceremony for new recruits…
[Let me join the Hundred-Pace Ritual every year until I leave this Cradle. That’s… what I want.]
…to a stage for one boy’s annual challenge and proof of growth.
Everyone who knew held their gaze on the ritual’s true star, Yuri Holland.
“…….”
Especially Kunter Rider, who’d been sitting with arms crossed and eyes shut until now.
At Yuri’s entrance, his eyes snapped open, glaring fiercely down at the arena.
* * *
At the arena’s farthest edge.
Amid the fallen 51st Batch, one remained awake.
‘Hng.’
Lisa, who’d cleverly fainted with the rest to observe unscathed.
Peeking through slitted eyes in feigned unconsciousness, she now widened them to watch Moochi struggle to rise.
‘He’s giving it his all, huh?’
Lisa smiled at Moochi’s desperate flailing.
‘So pretty…’
The sight of someone thrashing against the impossible was breathtakingly beautiful.
Pain.
Screams.
Writhing.
In Lisa’s gray-drenched world, only those painted strokes of vivid color.
As Lisa watched Moochi with sparkling eyes.
Step-.
A footfall from behind startled her into turning her head.
In that moment, she forgot she was pretending to be out cold and let out a sigh.
“Ah…….”
A black-haired boy who shone purely even in her grayscale world.
Meeting his stunning golden eyes, Lisa felt her soul pulled in, a gasp escaping her lips.
“…….”
“…….”
A brief, wordless meeting of gazes.
The golden eyes soon turned forward indifferently.
As if she weren’t worth another glance. The cold dismissal sent shivers down Lisa’s spine.
‘…Who is he?’
This latecomer to the Hundred-Pace Ritual.
Only as the nameless figure took his first step did Lisa spot the red epaulet on his shoulder.
‘Red epaulet? 50th Cohort?’
The 50th Cohort seniors who’d ‘hunted’ her cohort in the Forest of Beginnings wore those.
Knowing that, she could only feel confused.
‘Isn’t this the 51st Batch’s initiation?’
So why was a 50th Cohort senior suddenly here?
As confusion clouded Lisa’s eyes.
The black-haired boy took his second and third steps in succession.
Then it hit her—something was off.
‘Huh?’
He was striding forward boldly.
Casually.
Like strolling on flat ground.
‘That path… so easily?’
She’d watched her cohort, Moochi included, traverse it in agony.
His confident gait seemed utterly unreal.
‘…Is the pressure gone?’
The thought flickered, but she shook her head internally.
‘No, it’s still there.’
Feel it now.
The pressure crushing her hadn’t lifted.
Which made it all the more baffling.
‘How can he move so normally like that?’
Eyes wide, Lisa could only stare blankly at his receding back.
Step by step.
Past the sprawled, unconscious 51st Batch.
Yuri walked on as if out for a leisurely stroll, until…
Step-.
…he stood beside the fallen Moochi.