Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Trial of the Holy Grail (6)
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Sword Canyon, Galatric.
Though now forgotten by all, Sword Canyon was originally born from a single swordsman.
"This place will do."
In the distant past, an era now called ancient times.
A swordsman wandering in search of a place to hone his blade arrived at a cliff at the edge of the continent. There, amid sheer cliffs, he raised his sword.
One swing.
The cliff split and crumbled away.
That day, the cliff became a canyon, and the place was named 'Galatric' after the swordsman.
Galatric.
The tale of the swordsman who created it, the origin of the name, even the legend of the first Sword Saint—all forgotten. Yet the place is still called Galatric.
It was Sword Canyon, a holy site.
And now, a grave.
Standing there, the canyon's master gazes at the warrior challenging him. The warrior charging forward kicks off the ground, his breaths ragged. His steps unsteady.
Immature.
'But.'
Immature, yet those eyes are complete.
The boy takes in the one he must face with both eyes, never turning his head or closing them. He reveals his resolve as a warrior.
Immature, but the basics are there.
For now, that was enough.
"Good."
A smile spread across Ganikalt's lips.
Recalling the boy who once learned the sword from him someday, he spoke to the charging Rak.
"Strike with the resolve to kill."
Come at me with killing intent.
"That's the basics."
And so the Trial of the Holy Grail began.
2.
"Inside the Holy Grail, I encountered someone who revealed himself as Belial."
I blinked at Belnoa's words. For a moment, I couldn't comprehend what she'd said.
'Wait, it can even talk?'
My mind was a mess.
"...He gave his name? You mean he spoke?"
"Yes. Shadow Dragon Sorcerer, Belial. The one who appeared in the trial wasn't Professor Lania—it was him."
Belial.
No one dared use that disastrous name, so Belial was solely used to call the Black Dragon.
'But a sorcerer?'
I had my suspicions.
But that was information Belnoa couldn't know. Narrowing my eyes, I asked again.
"Not the Black Dragon, a sorcerer?"
"Yes, a sturdy build, wielding sorcery..."
"With a dragon tattoo on his forearm?"
"...Yes? Oh, yep. How did you know?"
The person in my mind matched the one Belnoa met in the Grail. Confirmed, yet I felt confused.
'...How?'
This shouldn't be possible.
Belnoa had no way to know the past Belial. It was only in records preserved in the Northern Tower... and accessing them required stringent conditions.
'Did Cardi tell her? Or the conditions...'
Neither.
I opened my mouth to tell Belnoa about 'Belial,' but restrictions bound my tongue root. Proof she lacked qualification.
"...I know of him. But he shouldn't be someone you could meet. Have you seen him before?"
"No, first time inside the Grail."
"The Grail creates trials based on the strong you've seen and experienced, right? Any guesses...?"
"I don't really..."
Belnoa stroked her chin, then looked at me as if remembering something.
"He called me his successor."
"Successor?"
"Yes. He said he'd teach me shadow sorcery. He even showed me its direction..."
Shadow sorcery, and successor.
One piece of info flashed through my mind.
"Belnoa."
I quietly called her name.
"Where did you say you first learned sorcery?"
"Old man Cardi. He pulled a sorcery book from the corner of his shop and gave it to me. Said I had talent for it..."
Indeed.
I felt puzzle pieces clicking in my head. Successor, sorcery, and Cardi who made the Grail. They formed a rough answer.
「The Holy Grail creates trials from memories contained in the challenger's soul. Not just memories in the mind, but 'memories engraved in the soul.」
Back then, I wondered why he emphasized that...
'He engraved the memory with sorcery.'
Whether sorcery or spells, repeatedly using similar circuits engraves them into the body.
'Circuits melt into flesh and soul, greatly boosting spell proficiency and power.'
What mages call 'mastery.'
'My Heavy Strike and Crush are like that too...'
But it's a sporadic phenomenon. Unpredictable how much use or how it engraves.
Just chance's product.
No one has elucidated it; magic academia treats it as coincidence. Even I don't fully understand mastery.
"...And he induced it artificially?"
I muttered blankly.
For a successor who might use his sorcery someday, in preparation for the Grail... he engraved memories into the sorcery circuits themselves. The more used, the deeper the traces in the successor's soul.
Scattered traces in the soul.
Meaningless without something to connect them. But now, in my hand, was the object that gathers and gives them meaning.
Holy Grail.
The miraculous vessel that reads 'memories' from the challenger's soul and completes them as trials. The Grail's existence imbues meaning to those scattered memories.
Completes the fragmented memories as trial forms.
"What the..."
I laughed in disbelief.
'He prepared all this for a successor whose time and depth were unknown?'
Not sane.
I blankly stared at the cracked Grail. Its structure was hard to grasp, yet this felt part of the plan.
"Just how far did he prepare..."
I muttered with a hollow laugh.
"...No wonder it's cracked."
Stroking the cracked Grail, I turned my gaze. Not to Belnoa, but the star pool Rak entered.
'Belnoa was connected to Belial.'
Distortion created from the star pool.
'Then Rak.'
At a glance, twisted space, but closely, a single slash engraved. Like space torn by a blade.
And as I recalled.
Only one being could do such madness with a single sword.
'Ganikalt van Galatric.'
The sword in the Grace family's holy site.
Ganikalt's holy sword in life.
Just a vague guess it was related.
"Hey, Belnoa."
"Yes? Professor."
"Change of plans."
Belnoa blinked.
I pointed to Rak's pool.
"The problem's not you—it's Rak."
I pressed my temple hard.
"What do I even do with that guy..."
This wasn't meant to be broken.
Something was definitely wrong.
3.
Even in death, no victory.
The conviction that hit Rak the moment he faced Ganikalt. No matter what, he couldn't land a single blow on the foe before him, let alone win.
'No, can't even touch.'
Just facing him brought that certainty.
Rak's instincts rang alarms, screaming to turn and flee. But Rak never looks back.
Gaze forward.
Stronger grip on the weapon.
Shaking off hesitation, Rak advances.
There stands Ganikalt. Motionless, yet to Rak, a wall.
An insurmountable colossal wall.
No thought it would crack after hundreds of strikes. Steeling resolve, Rak approaches the wall.
"......"
Rak meets Ganikalt's gaze.
From the helmet, Ganikalt's eyes gleam. Meeting those coldly sunken black pupils, Rak's eyes shake violently.
"...Kuhk!"
An illusion of his body torn apart assaults him.
In an instant, head severed, limbs ripped, heart shattered—the vision halts Rak's steps.
Not collapsing or dropping weapon like before... but that's the limit.
Not one step further.
Feels like chained.
'I know it's an illusion.'
Yet not mere illusion magic.
The knight before him has power and skill to make it reality in a heartbeat, implanting it with will alone into Rak's mind.
Fear of death presses in.
Will bends before terror.
Thought stolen by mere eye contact.
Legs tremble. Fingertips on weapon shake. Eyes sting, teeth clack ugly.
But.
"Hoo, huuuuh...!"
He never averts his gaze.
Forces eyes forward, bloodshot, jaw aching from clenched teeth.
Fixed gaze captures the path ahead.
Five steps to Ganikalt.
A distance leapable in one if willed, yet to Rak now, farther than anything.
"Good. Look straight with both eyes."
The knight's voice echoes.
"Five steps."
He tells Rak.
"Close the five steps. That's the most I can teach you now—this sensation."
Staring straight into Rak's eyes, the knight says.
"Come."
Rak grits teeth, tenses body.
Kik, kikiik.
To Rak's eyes, space crushed. Illusion or real? Indistinguishable, as eerie pressure bore down truly.
Steps heavy.
Body won't move.
Grinding teeth, Rak forces motion. Will alone moves the fear-dominated body.
Uduk, ududuk.
Chilling sounds as Rak barely steps forward. One step, sweat pours. Breath ragged like scaling a cliff.
Using that step, another.
Moving screaming flesh, Rak nears Ganikalt. On the fourth step, exhales held breath.
"Kuhk...!"
One step left, but flesh at limit.
Body stops.
Every part screams.
Four enough, stop here—whispers. But Rak doesn't settle.
Next.
One more step.
Whipping limit-flesh, stronger step. Arm moves with kruk.
Ganikalt demanded five steps.
But Rak had no intent to stop there.
Simple and straightforward, thus Rak never breaks his own rules. Shows warrior's pride to the knight.
Kang!
Rak's axe strikes Ganikalt's breastplate. With that, Rak kneels and collapses.
"......"
Ganikalt, who could have blocked but didn't, slowly reached to stroke his breastplate.
"Excellent."
He closes and opens eyes.
Pressure devouring surroundings vanishes. Rak slightly lifts head to look at Ganikalt.
"Remember this sensation."
Ganikalt says.
"The human body follows will. If clear, it moves beyond limits."
His voice different from before.
Not sharp, not chilling.
"Potential to surpass limits. Possibility to overcome and advance. All humans have it."
Like a master teaching disciple.
"Born weak, short-lived, striving to achieve in brief life."
Thus.
"Humans always overcome limits. That's humanity's history... my past life, your present."
Humans have potential.
"Well done, Rak van Grace."
The swordsman who staked his life on that potential smiles at the boy.
"Keep striving."
He raises his sword.
Sring.
The swordsman swings toward the sky.
Human with feet on earth under heaven swings sword at heaven.
Blade cuts mere air.
Yet the tip of the human-held sword surely touches the sky.
Sruk, sky quietly splits. Revealed: peeled space. Holy Grail trial fully crumbles, Rak ejected.
"Look forward to our next meeting."
Collapsing Holy Grail trial.
Buried Sword Canyon.
The master, sword planted in earth, stands eternally aloof there.
📝 Author's Note Even the demo has insane difficulty... Holy Grail's SOULS!