Chapter 231
Chapter 231
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 231
Chapter Title: Trial of the Holy Grail (5)
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Shadow Dragon's Sorcerer, Belial.
The man introduced himself that way.
Belnoa narrowed his eyes as he stared at the man. Shadows were rising above the man's arms, etched with tattoos resembling a dragon's form.
'...Shadow sorcery?'
It was unmistakably the trace of shadow sorcery.
But it was different from the shadow sorcery Belnoa knew. It differed in direction even from the sorcery used by the Demon King's army on the battlefield.
Different, and thus alien.
Belnoa's eyes narrowed further.
The strange sorcery was sorcery, but there was something even more concerning. Belnoa opened his mouth.
"...You said Belial?"
"That's right. You know my name?"
There was no way he wouldn't.
No one was ignorant of the name of the being that had reigned as a calamity over the kingdom's centuries of history.
"This is the first time I've seen you here, but I know the name Belial."
"Doesn't sound like you've heard it in a good light."
Belnoa nodded.
"Black Storm, Black Dragon Belial."
A demon dragon whose single flap of wings overturned battlefields, and whose flames reduced even natural fortresses to ash.
"...I had a feeling."
Belial gave a wry smile at Belnoa's words.
"Looks like things have gone the worst possible way. Well, running into you here means everything's gone as wrong as it could."
He muttered as he took a step forward.
Sand crunched underfoot in the desert.
"Boy, you called me the Black Dragon Belial."
"Yes. The one who reigned as a calamity in history..."
"Calamity, calamity."
Belial's eyes narrowed.
"Did that Black Dragon kill people? No need to ask. It was called a calamity because it killed people."
It wasn't just about killing people.
It burned nations and left countless ruins over centuries. That was why the Black Dragon reigned as a calamity.
Belnoa recalled the many tales from history books but didn't voice them. His instinct told him not to.
Instead, Belnoa said something else.
"Are you... connected to the Black Dragon?"
"I must be. That's ■■■■■■■■..."
Belial frowned mid-sentence.
"Hm?"
He rubbed the back of his neck a few times, looked up at the sky, and let out a chuckle.
"What a pain."
Belial lowered his gaze after muttering.
"Looks like it's a story I can't tell you right now. Unless you overcome my trial, that is."
"...Trial?"
Belnoa blinked.
Trial. Thinking about it, he was undergoing a trial within the Holy Grail. He'd been tense expecting Professor Lania, but...
'What came out was that man.'
A man of unknown identity who called himself Belial.
A sorcerer wielding a similar yet alien form of sorcery.
"So."
He spoke.
"This is inside the Holy Grail, right? That's what I agreed with ■■■. Hm, you learned shadow sorcery from 'someone,' didn't you?"
He pointed to the shadow armor wrapped around Belnoa's arm. Belnoa nodded slowly.
"I do handle shadow sorcery."
"You've used it quite a bit. Reaching the point of wrapping shadows around your body... You've got talent. Good, I like it."
Thud.
Belial stopped in front of Belnoa.
Belnoa looked up at the man before him. He'd felt it from afar, but up close, cold sweat trickled down his spine.
Strong.
Ridiculously strong.
Just standing there, Belnoa felt crushed by an immense wall. His breath caught, and his fingertips trembled.
"Boy."
The wall posed a question.
"Challenging the Holy Grail's trial means you have a reason to move forward, right?"
A reason to move forward.
"For conviction, for salvation, for achievement..."
If not all that.
"To protect someone."
Belnoa nodded instinctively at the final words. If there was a reason he needed to grow stronger, it was to protect Chloe.
"Good. I like it."
Satisfied with the answer, Belial burst into hearty laughter. He patted Belnoa's shoulder twice with his thick hand.
'What power...!'
It might have been light to Belial, but Belnoa felt like his shoulder would come off.
'Something... feels off.'
Gazing at Belial patting his shoulder, Belnoa sensed discomfort. The opponent was undoubtedly a powerhouse. That man could kill him with a flick of his wrist.
Yet for some reason.
'I'm not afraid.'
There was instinctive fear.
There was the intimidation of facing a superior.
But Belnoa felt no psychological terror from the man before him. He had a strong conviction that the man would 'never' harm him, no matter what.
An unfounded conviction.
Yet one without doubt.
It felt strange.
As Belnoa thought that, Belial spoke.
"Boy, your name?"
"Belnoa."
"Right, Belnoa."
Belial exhaled shortly.
"Reaching shadow armor means you've hit a decent level. At your age, that's talent plus solid effort. But..."
Belial's eyes narrowed. His slit pupils evoked a beast's gaze.
"You're plateaued."
Plateaued.
Belnoa swallowed hard.
It was true.
He hadn't advanced beyond shadow armor. Even asking old man Cardi, he'd only said the next form needed a 'trigger.'
"You need a trigger to go further. And I can help with that."
Belial glanced around. He stroked his chin at the vast desert, already cracking.
"Hit the limit recreating me? Hm, you might withstand it once at best."
He muttered, raising both arms.
"Offering."
He whispered.
Mana infused in the words released, and with a tick, Belial's skin began peeling from his arms. Flesh stripped away, replaced by something else.
'...Scales?'
Gleaming black something.
Shadows formed into scales, far more stable than Belnoa's shadow armor.
Arms stretched out.
Shadow scales cloaking them.
Shadows rose above, not viscous like Belnoa's, but honed sharp like a beast's claws.
"You're using shadow sorcery wrong."
Wind blew across the desert.
"Break the limits of your mind. Shatter the limits of your flesh. Sorcery is the tool for that. A means to offer your flesh and gain strength beyond the body."
Sand scattered.
"Sorcery is desire. Shadows solidify what you desire into form."
The wind grew fiercer.
"Envision the perfect form."
An ancient dragon that once existed on this land.
"Beings that swept regions with one flap, burned earth and sky with one breath... perfect existences."
Crunch, crackle.
His arms swelled with noise. Shadow-wrapped limbs briefly took draconic shape.
"Watch closely, boy."
He grinned.
"I'll show you."
A beast's arm.
Claws of a dragon that once rent the skies.
"What the Shadow Dragon's sorcery is."
He swung his arm.
Draconic claws in human flesh tore the sky. Wind rushed along the path, swirling into a storm.
Kagagagagak!
The storm raged.
Wind from the dragon's claws devoured the area. Shadows mixed in blackened the gale.
Sand flew everywhere, pulverized by the onslaught. The black storm ground even sand to nothing, as if returning all it touched to void.
In a still place, a devouring storm appeared in an instant.
"...Ah."
Belnoa watched the raging storm with wide eyes. Then he looked at Belial, who created it with one swing.
"Remember what you just saw, boy."
Belial smiled.
"Next time we meet, I hope you experience the full trial. The higher your level, the more it can handle."
Crack.
The Holy Grail's space began shattering. Overwhelmed, it chose to collapse for self-preservation.
As the trial crumbled, Belnoa stared at Belial standing alone in the desert.
At the smiling sorcerer in the storm's heart, Belnoa unconsciously recalled.
—The moniker attached to the Black Dragon Belial.
'Black Storm.'
The moment Belnoa understood its meaning.
2.
Crack!
With the sound of space shattering, Belnoa was ejected from the trial. Rolling on the ground, he jumped up and looked around urgently.
"Hah, huff...!"
He gasped the held breath at once, hand on his chest. His heart pounded fiercely.
'What... did I just see?'
What he saw was shadow sorcery.
But utterly unlike what he knew. He hadn't even known sorcery could do that.
Offer part of the body to summon, strengthen, and solidify shadows.
That was the sorcery Belnoa knew.
'But what that man did...'
Offer the body.
Replace offered body with shadow.
'Shadows instantly repair the ruined flesh.'
The process was seamless, lossless. As if that was the right way.
「You're using shadow sorcery wrong.」
He had to admit it.
And he felt he saw the path forward.
Just seeing it once opened his eyes.
Thump.
As Belnoa recalled it, someone grabbed his shoulder.
"Belnoa."
It was Professor Lania.
Belnoa blinked and looked up.
"What the hell did you do in there?"
"...Pardon?"
"No, you too, but."
She pointed to a corner of the forest.
There was the puddle Rak had entered.
"Rak, what the heck is that guy doing?"
The puddle Rak dove into.
Space warped from there, where starlight pooled. It twisted with creaks and groans.
As if forcibly holding the space together.
"You guys didn't just meet anyone normal? No, even if lifespan was cut, I couldn't do that...?"
As Lania misunderstood greatly, Rak's trial continued.
3.
"You chose the wrong time to challenge the trial."
The knight's voice echoed in the canyon.
"You've hit a wall, true. But it's shallow. You've barely entered. The trial is still too soon for you."
Rak lay on the ground, gasping. No wounds remained, yet he couldn't rise.
'What... was that?'
The knight's words to pick up a weapon and charge.
He'd grabbed his axe and rushed full force. The knight hadn't even swung his sword. Just his eyes flashed through the visor.
Rak dropped his axe.
He tumbled pathetically.
The moment their eyes met, Rak envisioned his body shattering. His will broke completely. No thought of challenging.
He couldn't stand.
No wounds, yet like severed tendons, no strength entered his body.
The knight looking down exhaled shortly.
"You lack will."
The knight said, lowering his sword.
"As Grace's child, you've learned of will? You lack it. Lacking resolve."
Faint disappointment colored his voice.
"No need to swing at a warrior who dropped his weapon. Too early for you."
The knight sheathed his sword and turned.
Rak stared at the receding back. The knight muttered as he walked.
"Hone a warrior's resolve before challenging. You're not worth swinging at now."
Not worth a swing.
One without a warrior's resolve.
Rak frowned at the insult to a warrior's pride. He gritted his teeth, glaring with wide eyes.
「Do not tolerate insults.」
「Especially to a warrior's pride.」
Words from warriors echoed in his ears.
Rak reached out, trembling hand grasping the dropped axe handle. Gripping it, he forced strength into his body.
Crunch, crackle.
Broken will, stalled flesh.
Forcing it upright. Blood vessels burst in his eyes, vision red, nosebleed dripping spots on the ground.
"Grrgh...!"
Whipping the stilled body.
Gathering and burning shattered will.
Thud.
Gripping the axe, Rak stood on his feet. Planting them firm, he hurled the axe at the knight with all his might.
Whoosh!
The knight caught the flying axe without turning. Stopping, he slowly looked back.
"Impressive."
The knight smiled faintly.
"Not entirely ignorant of pride."
He raised his sword again.
Cracks spread from him.
The trial hit its limit summoning Ganikalt. Signs of the Holy Grail collapsing appeared across the canyon.
Splitting ground.
Fissuring sky.
As the Holy Grail tried to end the trial forcibly, Ganikalt's eyes narrowed.
"An immature warrior shows pride. A human shakes off fear and reveals resolve."
He swung his sword lightly.
The blade warped space, forcibly mending the cracks.
"Thus, the trial continues."
Holding space, Ganikalt turned to Rak. Visor hid his mouth, but Rak felt the knight smiling.
"Immature, but knows pride."
The knight pointed his left hand at Rak.
"I ask you."
Ganikalt van Gallatrik.
The knight who knows pride questions the boy at the starting line.
"Are you a warrior?"
Do you wish to remain a warrior?
Rak answered by kicking off the ground.
Ganikalt smiled at the sight.
"Excellent."
To one who knows pride, the warrior who raised his weapon against fear again—Ganikalt showed respect.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Author's Note
Wheew