Chapter 253
Chapter 253
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 253
Chapter Title: Cultivator's Mountain (27)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Afterimage.
The past. Something gone by. Yet an image that refused to fade.
It was the remnant left behind by a being who had once carved his mark across the Abyss.
The Sword Emperor's form and movements manifested through Park Chan-woo's eyes because the final action he took before death lingered as an afterimage.
'It's not just projecting the sight of the Sword Emperor overpowering his foe. This is his enlightenment.'
Every visible sword path and technique held meaning.
They weren't mere points but lines connecting to form the final 'strike,' designed to reveal its true intent only then.
The moment he severed Kang Si-chan's neck, Park Chan-woo sensed the Sword Emperor's purpose.
The true aim of the afterimage lay in the final insight the Sword Emperor had left before his death.
'A realm I can't reach yet.'
The problem was that the Sword Emperor's insight existed in such a profound dimension—stretching out for it was futile.
He had merely mimicked the actions by chance and grasped the intent, but he hadn't truly touched the Sword Emperor's teachings.
'...So that's the Box of Patience.'
The true master of the cradle.
He now understood why that being had left the 'Box of Patience' behind.
Without patience—without eternally honing oneself—one could never reach the ideal realm that was the Sword Emperor.
A master who had attained the pinnacle of the sword and glimpsed the ultimate.
Yet even such a Sword Emperor had failed to reach the 'true master of the cradle.'
In contrast, Park Chan-woo could reach it easily thanks to his negative level.
Whether it was meant to teach that sheer luck couldn't overturn everything, he wasn't sure.
'A wall.'
One thing was certain: he had felt the wall.
Merely imitating the afterimage's actions had allowed him to behead Kang Si-chan.
Even with abilities not worth the Sword Emperor's claws.
It was proof that purely honed skill could overcome even stronger foes.
This defied the common sense of the Abyss.
Something transcending levels and stats.
...He couldn't even fathom the grueling effort needed to reach that realm.
'I'm thirsty.'
His stomach growled. His throat burned.
Dismissing the Sword Emperor's sword as mere swordplay was impossible.
His sword was like magic.
It infused will into swordsmanship itself.
Similar to instantly grasping everything about an opponent and deploying a tailored magical formula.
Every action linked seamlessly, culminating in the opponent's death—an artistic process.
'I wonder.'
But what intrigued him most was the 'Sword Emperor' himself.
He was an unknown figure.
Despite his monumental achievements, he devoted his life solely to surpassing his limits.
He cared nothing for clearing creative Abysses, interacting—or clashing—with other races.
The existence of such a lone wolf was astonishing.
'I want to know.'
Even amid his clash with the resurrected Kang Si-chan, he peered as deeply as possible into the Sword Emperor's afterimage.
Focusing on sensing the Sword Emperor himself.
Blood spraying, flesh mangled, sliced, and torn—he paid it no mind.
If not now, he might never grasp the insight the Sword Emperor left.
'Sword Emperor. Why leave your afterimage behind?'
As he delved deeper into the afterimage, he realized it.
This was an afterimage the Sword Emperor had deliberately left.
Yet afterimages could only be fully understood by witnessing the prior events.
He didn't know the Sword Emperor.
He had no way to.
But.
'Mana fluctuations...'
Every being possessed 'mana fluctuations.'
Only he could read them, and the God of Offerings had called this talent the foundation of an archmage.
The afterimage retained those fluctuations too.
And in his view.
'...Mana fluctuations are the soul.'
Mana fluctuations were the soul's resonance.
For them to linger in the afterimage meant the Sword Emperor's soul remained.
Sealed in the Box of Patience, what did it wish to convey?
Park Chan-woo clashed his own 'mana fluctuations' against the afterimage's.
He harmonized them.
And then.
'...!'
He saw it.
The Sword Emperor's true form.
The reason he left the afterimage.
There was a man who had walked the path of the sword unyieldingly.
From birth, he gripped a sword.
He breathed with the sword, lived with the sword.
He cared for nothing beyond honing his blade to surpass his limits.
He ignored the world, mingling or blending with other beings.
But that didn't mean he possessed astonishing talent for the sword.
"No dullard is as dull as this one."
People mocked him.
For someone swinging a sword all day, his skill was pathetically lacking.
No—precisely, his skill was good.
His sword handling was exquisite.
But that was the problem: it was all he had.
"He can't handle energy, and even his physical growth is abysmal. At best, he's a half-baked swordsman decent only at techniques."
Nothing beyond sword techniques.
Yet he never gave up.
He simply kept swinging his sword.
For a lifetime.
No friends, no comrades, no family.
Alone with his sword as his sole companion, he tempered himself relentlessly as suns rose and moons passed.
Then one day, he felt the sword's breath, became one with it, and finally—he himself became the sword.
He reached the perfect realm of formless sword.
Entering the ranks of the absolute strongest, whom none could ignore.
"What a pity."
He sighed.
Surmount one wall, and another appeared.
A wall he could never cross.
He realized he could be the strongest in one world, but never the supreme swordmaster of the entire Abyss.
His vision had been too narrow, trapped in his own world.
"...True master of the cradle. You gave me both hope and despair. What a cruel one you are."
The one who broadened his view was the 'true master of the cradle.'
Through that being's trial, he awoke to his frog-in-the-well existence.
It showed him a higher world and hinted at a path to it—but now it was too late.
Because.
"Those with something to protect can grow stronger, you say?"
―Indeed. Sword Emperor.
"...I have nothing important left. Nothing to protect anymore."
His world had already perished.
Until its end, he swung only his sword.
Regret was pointless now—too late.
"I can't grow stronger. But... the one who inherits my 'sword' can surpass even me."
―Do you wish your sword to be passed on?
"Yes. Ideally to someone with something to protect. A fool earnestly trying to save the world would be even better."
―We shall preserve your afterimage. When one matching the conditions appears, the Sword Emperor's name will reveal itself in the 'Box of Patience.'
"Box of Patience? What's that?"
―A box where the four emperors who reached me left their insights. You are the fifth and final. When the acquirer of the Box of Patience opens it, the name of the emperor best matching the conditions among the five will appear.
"So even if someone acquires the Box of Patience, my name might not show?"
―Correct. Sword Emperor, Blade Emperor, Bow Emperor, Fist Emperor, Spear Emperor. Only the names best fitting talent and conditions among these five emerge.
"Just names? So someone could bring up all five names?"
―Unlikely, but possible if they possess such talent. Of course, they must meet the emperors' set 'conditions' as well.
"Like the 'one with something to protect' I mentioned— the others have conditions too, I suppose."
―Precisely.
The Sword Emperor smiled.
He couldn't recall the last time he'd done so, but if a worthy successor appeared, he could gladly yield his sword.
Thereafter, the Sword Emperor expended his remaining life to leave his afterimage.
His final martial legacy.
"...In the Abyss, what rank is my 'sword'?"
Curiosity struck, and the true master of the cradle answered.
―In pure sword technique, undoubtedly first. But as total swordsman prowess, third.
"I see."
―Not curious who first and second are?
"No."
―...Why?
A grin!
The Sword Emperor replied with a laugh.
"Because the one who inherits my sword will become the first."
When he came to, his sword was swinging in unison with the Sword Emperor's.
Thanks to the mana fluctuations colliding and blending, allowing him to feel the Sword Emperor's very will.
'I want to protect.'
He differed from the Sword Emperor.
He had things to protect.
Things he wanted to safeguard.
That meant he could grow stronger.
Perhaps that's why.
Though his body felt on the verge of shattering, he didn't care.
This moment's experience was supremely transcendent, irreplaceable forever.
The sole instant he could fully accept the Sword Emperor's sword.
The overwhelming revelation elevated every potential he held.
His class level rose, and Divine Pinnacle Arts 2-star completed as part of that process.
But it was far from over.
"Impossible...!"
Kang Si-chan screamed.
His body, harder than steel, was rupturing.
For some reason, wounds weren't regenerating.
His mana was severing and collapsing.
Not just the Sword Emperor.
Gripping the sword, he sensed it.
Baal's presence.
'Hungry, are we?'
Park Chan-woo swung.
His sword felt one with Baal's.
He could sense how starved Baal's sword was.
Ah.
Now, he could wield it better.
Baal's power.
...The Absolute's ability.
Thanks to the Sword Emperor's swordsmanship, he could recreate it.
Shaaaaaa!
Black energy surged across his entire body.
Roooooooar!
At last, the fiend god Baal revealed himself.