Chapter 230
Chapter 230
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 230
Chapter Title: Trial of the Holy Grail (4)
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The Trial of the Holy Grail calls forth the strong one that the challenger envisions reaching their ideal.
Everyone has their own ideals. Since the form of those ideals differs from person to person, it's only natural that the image of the strong one they picture varies just as much.
That's normal, but...
"Belnoa, you think it's Professor Lania too?"
"When you consider Professor Lania's true identity, it's hard to find anyone around who measures up..."
Who is the strong one of ideals?
To that question, Belnoa and Rak gave the exact same answer. In truth, it couldn't have been any other way.
'What is Professor Lania's true identity?'
The Ashen Mage, Raniel van Trias.
A being called the Sage, who achieved countless feats alongside the Hero... a living legend.
'A human capable of facing disasters.'
In the end, the image of a warrior who has reached the absolute pinnacle tends to look much the same. And for Rak and Belnoa, who had witnessed that power with their own eyes, imagining anyone stronger than Lania was no easy task.
The sight of her tearing apart a superhuman Sword Ghost's ultimate technique with her bare hands.
The figure burning her own lifespan to confront disaster, wrapped in brilliant starlight.
As Rak and Belnoa recalled the versions of Lania they had each seen, Lania—pressing hard on her furrowed brow with a low hum—finally spoke up.
"You two."
Lania tapped the table lightly.
"Think you could land a hit on me?"
Another baffling question.
Belnoa blinked before asking back.
"Like the practical exam last time?"
"No. Using the version of me you just described."
The one they had just mentioned.
"Th-that time, when facing the heretic...?"
"Yeah. Just one solid hit. A valid strike."
Lania nodded.
"Think about it seriously."
No, even thinking seriously about it was...
Still, since she'd asked, Belnoa tried picturing the scenario in her head.
'Professor Lania, wrapped in starlight.'
The mage who had burned her lifespan to reach the disaster.
Could she land even a single blow on that mage? Belnoa pondered the question.
'Even assuming ideal conditions, every trick and dirty technique in the book... even if I offered up everything in devotion...'
No answer emerged.
Belnoa stroked her chin and muttered.
"...I'd close my eyes, open them, and my head would already be gone."
She wasn't exaggerating.
The gap between Lania's form that night in the city and Belnoa's current self was like night and day.
Death the instant they locked eyes.
Not even time to twitch a finger.
"Rak, if we planned it right, maybe in three years you could give it a shot... The problem is you two."
Lania let out a sigh.
"What am I supposed to do about this..."
"Pr-Professor?"
Belnoa couldn't hold back any longer and raised her hand to ask.
"What's the point of these questions you've been asking?"
"It's the trial you need to overcome."
Lania answered curtly.
"The trial you have to conquer if you want to move forward."
She set the Holy Grail down on the table.
Rak and Belnoa's eyes went wide as they stared at it. Though they hadn't attained the realm themselves, both were mages who had studied circuits.
'Incomprehensible circuits.'
Even at a glance, it was no ordinary object.
Pointing to it, Lania continued.
"You told me yourselves."
She pointed at Belnoa.
"Belnoa, you said you wanted to grow stronger. That to protect Chloe—to stand by her side—you're sorely lacking right now."
Belnoa nodded slowly.
It was the truth.
When Chloe had been kidnapped, Belnoa had felt utterly powerless. All the strength she'd honed meant nothing against them.
'...Later, to stand beside Chloe as she becomes the Hero, to protect her.'
She needed to grow far stronger than she was now.
Reaching the level of those called superhumans—that was Belnoa's goal.
"And you too, Rak."
Lania's finger shifted to Rak.
"I heard it from your father, the Northern Duke. He said the era when you take his place will be one of darkness. To survive that dark age..."
To navigate that brutal era.
"You must reach the superhuman realm. Only then can you achieve your ambitions. That's what the Duke said. What do you think?"
"I agree."
Rak nodded firmly.
"The Northern Duke bears the duty to protect the northern lands and everyone who lives there. It's the mission handed down from the first of the Grace line."
And so.
"To uphold the duty our ancestors have carried for centuries, I must grow stronger than I am now. I must see more, learn more... and evolve."
Both Belnoa and Rak felt the same.
They had reasons to grow stronger—ample desire and drive for power.
Lania knew that full well.
"That's why I chose you two first."
She'd selected them as the next candidates.
"It's complicated to explain, but this Holy Grail..."
She gave a brief rundown on the Holy Grail.
Incredible as it sounded, Rak and Belnoa never doubted her words.
'She's not the type to lie about something like this.'
The trust built over time ran deep.
"So."
Finishing her explanation, Lania gave the Holy Grail a light tap.
"Want to give it a shot?"
The ultimate goal of every warrior.
The pinnacle a human body can reach.
Superhuman.
With that as your destination, where do you stand now... and how far is left to go?
A chance to see it with your own eyes.
The moment they heard her words, their answer was set. Rak and Belnoa nodded in unison, without hesitation.
"We'll do it."
2.
The forest near Aphria.
Arriving where Kalt had undergone his trial, I pulled out the Holy Grail. With Belnoa and Rak watching, I gave it a light shake.
Hum, huuum.
The Holy Grail began to resonate.
Compared to Kalt's reaction, it was faint—almost negligible—but I could feel a subtle vibration through my fingertips.
Rak, in the northern snow mountains.
Belnoa, in the city at night.
Briefly, both had confronted their inner walls. That must be why the Grail responded to them.
'One, two, three...'
Counting silently in my head, I spoke up.
"Today we're just dipping our toes in. It's three times a year, so let's keep this light—a taste for now."
Breaking through right away was out of the question anyway.
Talented as Rak and Belnoa were, their potential hadn't fully blossomed yet.
'Challenging the superhuman realm now would be suicide.'
This was purely experiential.
To set their direction clearly—and to verify if I really emerged from the Holy Grail's trial.
"So the great Professor Lania appears, huh? Even if it gets undone, it's a little frightening..."
"Warriors don't feel fear."
"They feel it and overcome it. But facing a nightmare you can't conquer..."
Belnoa and Rak chatted idly.
I shot Rak a glare for still insisting on "great," then let out a long sigh.
"...Rak, you're the better off one."
Sighing, I pointed at Belnoa.
"The problem is you, Belnoa."
Per what Belnoa had said, her trial opponent would be me from the heretic subjugation battle.
'Me, when I'd summoned starlight at the cost of my lifespan.'
In that state.
If I was dead set on exterminating the "enemy" before me, even grinding away my life for it.
'How would I treat the opponent I recognized as an enemy?'
Imagining the answer wasn't hard.
"Uh, Belnoa?"
"Yes?"
"The second you step in, expect a flash. Don't close your eyes just because it's blinding—keep them open till the end. You might get bounced out before you even confirm anything..."
"...A flash? Oh, you mean the high-tier spell, Light Burst...?"
I shook my head slowly.
"That's for blinding. What I'd use is my signature spell. Roasting everything around with heat."
I gave Belnoa a look of genuine pity.
"Hang in there. Seriously."
That was as far as I got.
The thirty-seventh resonance hummed in my palm, and I tilted the Holy Grail slightly. Two pools formed on the ground simultaneously.
Trials I could create at once: two.
Pointing at the pools, I said,
"Step into those, and the trial begins. It won't take long—come back when you're done. I'll be waiting."
Rak gripped his axe haft tight.
Belnoa cloaked her hands in shadow armor.
Tense but resolute, they leaped into the pools.
The instant the light swallowed them.
——Guwoong.
In that split second, the Holy Grail in my hand shook violently.
A jolt rough enough to numb my fingers. Frowning, I lifted it up. The Grail rattled noisily.
"...What the?"
I'd heard two at once was fine?
Something was off. Trying to steady it, the moment I gripped the shaking Grail with both hands...
Crack.
A fissure spiderwebbed across the Holy Grail.
As if it had tried to contain something too vast.
3.
Memories etched into the challenger's soul. Records of countless humans inscribed in the world's circulating starlight. When memory and record align, the Holy Grail's trial takes form.
The key here is the challenger's memory.
Not mere recollection, but memories carved into the soul.
What lingers most vividly are things the challenger experienced firsthand—seen with their eyes, felt with their hands, sensed through their body.
But exceptions always exist.
Memories etched into the soul.
Memories implanted by some means.
Engraving something into a soul is no simple task; it treads forbidden ground... but it's not impossible. In every era, there are those who stake their lives on infinitesimal odds, daring the impossible.
Shamans who seal their memories into spells, hoping they'll endure across ages—that someone might remember their time.
One who inscribed their soul into their sword for their sole disciple.
Human resolve can sometimes pierce realms even the stars can't foresee.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Come on in, boy."
A vast desert stretched out.
Belnoa stared at the man standing before her. He grinned broadly amid the barren sands.
A man she'd never faced, never even seen.
Yet he spoke to her.
"Are you the shaman inheriting my line?"
The Holy Grail's trial was merely a reproduced personality.
A human mimicked from memory and record.
Thus, a being that didn't truly exist.
「It's close to a puppet without ego. It can't think—merely acts on the combat habits from the recorded time.」
Raniel had said that clearly before the trial.
Belnoa remembered it well. Yet the man before her spoke with unmistakable self-awareness.
"...You can talk?"
"If words go back and forth, that's talking. Was there something special needed? The era's changed quite a bit."
Belnoa swallowed hard.
The mana leaking from the man was unnatural. He simply stood there, but the sheer pressure made her breath come short.
"...Your name."
Belnoa spoke slowly.
"What should I call you?"
The man answered.
"Shadow Dragon Shaman."
Shadows rose from his arm.
"Belial."
The shadows took the form of a dragon.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Rak surveyed his surroundings.
The terrain resembled a canyon, with sword hilts scattered haphazardly everywhere. The ground bore long gashes like it had been hacked apart by blades.
A strikingly unique landscape... and one Rak recognized.
Not from his own eyes, but from a history book.
'The Sword Sanctuary, Galatric.'
Now an inaccessible demonic realm.
He recalled its illustration matching this scene perfectly.
'Why here?'
A place he'd glimpsed only briefly in pictures.
Why was it unfolding before him now?
The moment Rak wondered that.
Clank.
Armor rattled from somewhere. Clank, clank—the sound grew closer. Rak gripped his axe and stared toward it.
Click.
The noise stopped.
There stood a knight clutching a massive greatsword.
Shring.
He slowly raised his blade.
At a glance, the enormous greatsword seemed built for smashing with sheer weight—but the instant it was in the knight's grasp, it felt like nothing more than a lethally sharp edge.
"What is your name?"
Rak answered the knight's question.
"Rak van Grace."
"A child of Grace, then."
The knight nodded faintly.
Then he leveled his sword at Rak.
"Draw your weapon."
A voice utterly devoid of warmth.
The knight—who had lived more immersed in the sword and battle than any other—revealed his name.
"I am Ganikalt van Galatric."
Arcadia's Knight Commander.
The first Sword Saint.
The sword that guarded humanity.
Countless titles clung to him, yet he never flaunted them in introduction. He spoke plainly, one word only.
"Swordsman."
The one whose life was told through the blade.
Beneath the faintly glowing starlight, Ganikalt's sword gleamed with radiant brilliance.