Chapter 204
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: Each One's Time (1)
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In truth, Jun wasn't quite the broken man Belles imagined him to be.
No, he might have tumbled down that path someday.
But not now, at least.
If Jun heard this, he'd brush it off with a wave and an embarrassed laugh.
But at this point, he couldn't deny it.
His comrades.
The presence of his comrades had changed Jun.
Aiden, Maya, and Eleanor.
Once he started traveling with these three and grew close to them, magic for Jun was no longer just a tool to protect himself—it became a means to safeguard his comrades.
'It's fun.'
Not only the moments of growth like right now, but even the struggles of pondering how to improve felt enjoyable.
And knowing his comrades shared similar thoughts made him even happier.
Even in this very moment.
His comrades were surely striving to grow stronger right now, too.
By sheer coincidence, Aiden had also reached the 6th floor, just like Jun.
Unlike Jun, though, he hadn't ridden in a magic carriage—he'd arrived purely by running on his own two feet.
His body was in shambles because of it.
"Hahk... Hek!"
Even proper breathing was a struggle.
For Aiden, who had now reached a proficient Level 5, feeling this winded was a first since 'that day.'
'It felt this desperate back then, too.'
The day he'd been kidnapped by human traffickers and barely escaped.
Because of that day, Aiden could run like this now.
That didn't make it any more familiar, though.
For a full month, everything besides bare survival had been nonstop running.
And Aiden wasn't the only one suffering this intensely.
"Hoo...! Hoo...!"
Not quite to Aiden's extent, but Terdin was panting heavily as well.
"Aiden... hoo! Are you... hoo! alright...!"
Terdin looked strained just speaking, gazing at Aiden with concern.
Honestly, seeing the state of both of them, it was hard to say who should be comforting whom.
At this point, you'd naturally wonder:
Why were these two running themselves so ragged?
"Heh heh. What's the point if you youngsters have less stamina than this old codger."
It was because of the white-haired elder running just ahead—the Sword Phantom Aden.
Right after leaving Slayer Coast Island with the two of them, Aden had urged them to run.
At first, they figured it was just stamina training.
From the man once called the Empire's Sword, no less.
Of course, they started running without a single complaint.
Run, run, and run some more...
After about a day and a half...
'Why isn't he stopping?'
The thought came naturally.
But they dared not voice it in front of Aden.
So they just kept running.
Two days, three days passed like that.
They finally stopped to eat their first meal.
Even then, Aiden was half-dead on his feet.
If they hadn't spotted a deer along the way, they'd have had to keep running.
They tore into meat so poorly cooked it dripped blood.
And then the two had to run again.
Another three days passed.
By then, Aiden's mind was in a haze, and Terdin wasn't far behind.
That's when a pack of monsters ambushed them.
'Ah.'
Swinging his sword in a forced trance-like state, Aiden suddenly sensed something different from usual.
His body was so exhausted it felt ready to collapse at any moment, yet the sword sliced cleanly.
Even against 5th-floor monsters that were no pushovers.
Aiden noticed the change first.
Terdin realized it a few days later.
'So that's why we were running like this...'
'Is this the reason?'
Aden let out a hearty chuckle as he watched the two, looking as if enlightenment had dawned.
"Someone might say, 'What kind of barbaric training is this?'"
Swinging a sword while on the brink of death.
Wasn't it the pinnacle of simplistic brutality?
"But you're exceptions."
While running and running, their bodies had naturally begun using mana. From a certain point, they were drawing it from their cores as effortlessly as breathing.
Running isn't just about the legs and feet.
It moves the whole body.
Arms, waist for balance, and so on.
Naturally, mana permeated their entire bodies, and this continued nonstop while they ran.
"B-but... hoo! This kind of... hoo! training... hoo! Others... kuhuk! don't do?!"
"You call that a question? They'd die, obviously. I wouldn't put even the Heavenly Dragon Knights through this."
"......???"
It was such an absurd answer that they nearly harbored killing intent, forgetting their opponent was the Sword Phantom.
But Aden was right.
For most, this training method was nothing short of torture.
Forcing them to run to their limits while circulating mana throughout the body?
If such madness were feasible, everyone would run their way to Level 8.
Of course, ordinary people couldn't endure it.
These two, however, had several conditions that made it possible.
The first was mana control.
And in Aiden's case...
"It'll help that little guy inside you, too. You can't just brute-force strength; things like that grow with frequent use."
The reason Aiden—clearly inferior in skill to Terdin—could barely keep up with this training.
It was all thanks to the wind spirit.
The wind spirit dwelling within Aiden lent him a bit of strength every time he felt the wind while running, allowing him to persist this far.
"Ah..."
Only now realizing it, Aiden silently thanked the wind spirit, but no response came.
The spirit was struggling with the training, too.
'And sure enough... Lord Aden was right.'
Even as he ran, Aiden felt his steps lighter than usual and his mana flowing far more smoothly.
And so they arrived at the Level 6 field, 'Deep Root Thornwood'.
As the name suggested, it was a forest thick with sharp thorn trees.
The thorns blanketing the trees glistened with toxic sap.
And Aden...
"Here. This is the map. Follow it and keep running."
He handed over a map crudely scratched on animal hide—like something a child had drawn in the dirt with a stick—then vanished into thin air.
Filling the void he left behind...
Grrrrrr...
...were hundreds of 'Tetra Woods' opening their eyes amid the dense thorns.
'Sunbae... Maya... Eleanor...'
Are you all doing well?
I'm... doing... fine...
Swallowing tears as he thought of his comrades he already missed, Aiden raised his sword.
At the same time.
Eleanor gazed at the pristine white holy site she'd reached after so long.
Nuada Nepheden.
This place, enveloped in golden particles within the sanctuary, was the holy ground of the Ariclotos Church—a space that permitted no death.
It was also where Jun, Aiden, and Maya had once trained.
And in that wide-open area, Eleanor grimaced in agony, swallowed by a cluster of golden light.
"Gwand... pa..."
Her usual black bandages discarded, eyes squeezed shut, she barely pried her mouth open.
The one she called was none other than Elahim, the Pope of the Ariclotos Church.
"What's wrong, Eleanor?"
"This... really... works... right?"
"Of course. Every senior priest our church has produced has gone through it."
"Doesn't... make... sense..."
"It does. They're nothing like you. Those children had no traces of outer gods within them. So it wasn't as painful for them."
"Sh..."
"Tsk tsk. A pure mind is needed for Lady Ariclotos to grant greater power. Don't let vulgar words soil your lips."
A full month had passed since arriving at Nuada Nepheden.
Before the long-unseen Elahim, Eleanor had thrown a fit, demanding instruction in higher holy magic.
Any other priest pulling that would have been stared at like a madman, but Eleanor could get away with it.
Elahim had raised her personally, after all.
And she possessed talent to match.
That said, Eleanor hadn't begged blindly. She'd offered to share the new theories on holy magic she'd developed.
Her innovative approaches to holy magic would undoubtedly prove invaluable.
However, learning senior holy magic posed a challenge for her.
"I told you, your constitution is unique. Even if it stemmed from my mistake and that of the previous Pope, you've reaped the benefits aplenty."
It was frustrating, but undeniable.
As a child, she'd undergone all sorts of experiments to commune with the divine, forming a vessel within herself capable of containing a god.
Her holy power had even reached Ariclotos directly at one point.
Of course, the problem was that the god rejected it, and it ricocheted to some errant outer god.
In any case, her body—crafted to hold even a god's will—accepted holy power better than anyone's.
That's how she'd become a senior priest at such a young age.
"But to master holy magic beyond your current level, you need to store far more holy power in your body. And you can't."
That was the crux of the issue.
Eleanor's body wasn't made to hold holy power.
It was more like a conduit designed for communing with gods.
"You can surge holy power in bursts, but sustaining it long-term is difficult. No—until now, your overflowing reserves made it possible."
Yet the senior holy magic she now sought was impossible with her old methods.
She might manage to manifest it somehow, but maintaining it long-term like other holy spells? No chance.
"So we must force holy power to dwell in your body for extended periods. That's the trial you're enduring now."
Drawing the sanctuary's holy power and hammering it into a human body by force.
It was a structure bound to cause problems.
Holy power was far less volatile than mana, sure.
But it was still a god's power invading a mortal vessel.
Forcing it in was sure to rattle the soul.
Soul destruction was irreversible even in this sanctuary—imagine the risk.
"I warned you clearly, Eleanor. I said it would be a harsh path."
"I... kn... ow..."
"So stop whining and focus. Your holy power scatters with every word."
"F... uck..."
"Tsk!"
Smack!
With the sound of a sharp rap on the head, Eleanor's sobs ceased.
Instead, to momentarily escape the pain, she turned her thoughts elsewhere.
'Those guys... they're doing alright, right...?'
Her comrades now occupied a huge place in her life.