I Can Become Anything
Following the direction the voice's owner had warned him of, Kaisent entered a small church tucked into a secluded corner.
In a world where gods truly existed, a church that was small and shoved into an out-of-the-way spot was almost certainly dedicated to an unpopular deity.
Ignoring the unknown symbols and ornaments, Kaisent stepped into the broad open space at the center where the chairs had already been cleared away.
Neither the worshippers nor the clergy who ought to have been present were anywhere in sight. Whatever method had been used, they had clearly been removed in advance.
"Come out."
He felt no obligation to use polite speech with an enemy who had taken the Wolf Mercenary Band hostage. Hostility bare in his voice, he spoke in blunt, informal tones.
"You came alone as promised."
"And you are?"
The door he had entered through closed, and the figure who stepped into view was Noriyoshi—the same man who had received a royal invitation alongside them.
"If I remember correctly, it was Yamamoto Noriyoshi… that was the name."
Kaisent's father would forget a man's name the instant it proved unworthy of memory, yet Kaisent's own courteous nature had fixed the name firmly in his mind.
"Why did you call me here? Going so far as to threaten me with lies."
"You're quick on the uptake."
"I only realized that after meeting you."
Because they had been invited together, Kaisent had already confirmed several facts: Yamamoto Noriyoshi was a transmigrator from Earth, an otherworlder, and one of the top fighters in the mercenary band he served.
As a skilled member of a mercenary company he possessed a certain standing and voice, yet he lacked the kind of absolute control that would let him casually order an assault on another mercenary band inside the capital.
In short, Noriyoshi's claim that he would have his subordinates attack if Kaisent did not come alone had been a lie.
Should I run? No—if I run he'll just keep hounding me. At the very least I should hear why he called me.
Kaisent decided that fleeing without knowing the purpose would only make matters more complicated. And against any sudden turn of events he had already layered every protective spell he knew; even if ambushed, he would be able to escape the crisis at least once.
"Speak. Tell me why you called me."
"Heh. From what I remembered I thought you were just a brat putting on a nice-guy act, but you know how to push like a real man."
"I said speak."
Ready to unleash magic at any moment, Kaisent pressed harder.
"Whoa, whoa—I didn't come here to fight you."
"You threatened me with my comrades' lives and now you claim you didn't come to fight? Are you joking?"
"I admit the means were ugly. But I truly did not come intending to fight you."
That much sounded true. Yet from the man's voice Kaisent felt a discomfort he had experienced only once before—the same rank of malice that had colored the Easterner's voice when that man attacked Dang Seol-yeong and himself.
He isn't here to fight, but he carries intentions every bit as foul—no, fouler.
"My purpose is this."
"!!"
The instant Noriyoshi drew his sword, Kaisent reflexively widened the distance and prepared to strike. Yet the man showed no intent to attack; he held the hilt with only two fingers rather than in any grip suited for swinging.
"This sword still has its seal only partially released. I need a mage's help."
"A seal?"
"Yes. The problem is that no skilled mage exists near me."
"And you can't trust the royal family, so you need my help?"
"Exactly."
"Why should I believe a word of that? It could all be a lie."
At that moment Noriyoshi—no, Galayg—opened the subspace pouch belonging to his true body and drew forth a radiant silver bow.
"Th… that is……"
Having gained skill equal to those who had spent a lifetime with the bow, Kaisent understood the moment his eyes fell upon it. That was a bow one could not obtain even by surrendering every last one of the thousand gold coins earned from the recent commission.
"Help me and I will give you this bow."
"…Just for unsealing a sword?"
"Just? Once you learn the true power this blade holds, you will call the value of this bow 'just' instead."
Having inherited even the greedy nature of the dragon race from his mother, Kaisent found greed and cold reason seizing left and right hemispheres and battling furiously over the treasure before his eyes.
Huh?
The instant cold reason gained a slight edge, understanding a certain fact felt like ice water poured straight into his brain.
Why don't I want that sword?
Yes. At a glance the blade was a treasure among treasures. Yet looking at it, he felt not the slightest desire to possess it. Something was wrong. Words could not capture it, but every one of his five senses was screaming that the thing was ominous.
"Your wariness is only natural. Bind me however you like."
Bind him… ah—if I use this, it might work.
After a brief thought, Kaisent ordered the man's legs to remain still. Then, through the power of his gloves, he finely adjusted the restraint until the legs could not move unless shattered by overwhelming force.
"Fascinating. It doesn't feel like mana."
"Not finished yet. Put your arms behind your back as well."
"Since you and I must grip the sword together, I'll only place one hand behind my back."
"…That much is acceptable."
Thus Kaisent bound Galayg's limbs so that no sudden ambush was possible.
I can only use this if the opponent stays perfectly still.
Even though he could freely shape energy barriers, the barriers still required time to form; restraining a body demanded that the target remain motionless. In short, the ability worked only on the unconscious or on captives.
"I've been restrained exactly as you wished. Honestly, I feel anxious enough that you might simply snatch the bow and run."
"I'll release the restraints after the seal is broken. How do we unseal it?"
"Simple. When the two of us hold the sword together we will enter its inner world. After that we merely unseal it according to whatever situation awaits us there."
"……"
"It isn't dangerous. Dying inside the inner world will give you a mental shock, but your life itself will not be at risk."
Galayg whispered as though tempting him.
Uneasy. Insanely uneasy. Why? Even after binding him this thoroughly, why does the unease only grow?
The dread he had hoped would vanish once the opponent was restrained instead swelled larger.
But if it's that bow……!
"It is the bow used by the archer who loosed the arrows that rose during the battle on the second stratum. Forged of pure one-hundred-percent mithril with superb mana conductivity. I don't know the material of the string, but that too conducts mana excellently. Had you possessed that bow, you would never have collapsed from mana exhaustion. No—you would have overwhelmed your opponent instead."
"!!"
That was true. Only Kaisent's absurd depth of internal energy had saved him; the bow he had used conducted mana so poorly that anyone else would have dropped long before. With this bow, firing mana arrows instead of anti-personnel spells would be several times more powerful. The low mana cost was merely a bonus.
I swore I would grow stronger so I could find Seol-yeong noona! If becoming stronger means walking into a trap, then I must walk into it myself!
A true villain would have finished the restrained man, seized the treasure, and strolled away. Kaisent had not yet fallen far enough to become that kind of scoundrel.
In the end he stretched his hand toward the sword Noriyoshi held, reaching for the space the man had left open as if inviting him to grip the hilt.
"Is this the sword's inner world?"
The moment he seized the blade, Kaisent found himself standing alone in a pure-white void that contained nothing at all. He glanced about.
At first he assumed it was the sword's inner world, yet for some reason the space felt utterly familiar.
No. This is not the sword's inner world.
A sense of having been here once before, and a kinship as though everything in this realm stood on his side. Another being's inner world would never feel so intimate.
"Hahaha! Kuhahahahahaha!"
Far across the white expanse, a wave of flesh of unfathomable height—glowing with a terribly ominous red light—surged forward while roaring with mad laughter.
"Finally! Finally I can claim your body!"
"…So you were deceiving me from the very beginning."
"You may take pride in it! You are the first existence that made me—who forged kingdoms, empires, and history through hundreds of human vessels—feel greed I could not control!"
The flesh tide drew nearer.
"I will wield your talent with this body! Rejoice! The name Kaisent shall be eternal and immortal—engraved upon this world of Zelsdad!"
The words were not mockery but pure reverence and praise. In his own fashion he was honoring a genius beyond any ordinary description of genius, by keeping the name Kaisent intact.
If that flesh swallowed him, only the empty shell of Kaisent would remain while everything else was absorbed.
Yet Kaisent showed neither fear nor terror. He displayed no hostility, no fighting spirit, no will to battle.
…I see. Now I remember.
This place was his own mental world. And once before he had killed a black mage who invaded it—by revealing the sheer rank of the soul he possessed.
In the past he had been a powerless boy who knew nothing of combat and fled from every hostile intent. Now he had companions with whom he would walk the journey of life without turning away from battle. Because of that difference, having returned to the mental world, Kaisent remembered everything about how he had overcome the crisis while unconscious.
The me of reality is still immature.
There was still so much he did not know, and the road to the strength he desired stretched long and harsh.
But this place is different. Here I can become anything.
Though the caveat remained: only as strong as the soul itself. Common sense dictated that Galayg's soul was the stronger. Kaisent was still a slender boy who could not even match the height of the women at his side, while the other was a predator swollen by devouring hundreds of gifted souls.
What I wish to become. The strongest existence I know.
Even as the flesh wave closed in, Kaisent pictured the form he desired, and his body began to grow. The slender, androgynous boy expanded into a man packed with dense, natural muscle—muscle that would make even other men fall for him.
"You know how to use a mental world! But the gulf in rank between us is overwhelming!"
"Sss—hup!"
Thwack! Kwakwakwakwakwakwakwa——!!
"Keuaaagh?!"
The instant Kaisent drove successive punches into empty air, a colossal hole tore open in the flesh wave whose end could not be seen. In this place every impact struck the soul. When a gap large enough to reveal the scenery beyond appeared in that unfathomable mass, a scream ripped from Galayg.
"Y-you damn brattttt!"
"Haaah!"
Thkwaak! Puhng! Kwajik! Ujijik!
Soul-struck, Galayg cast aside the respectful mask of moments earlier as pure hypocrisy and accelerated, lunging to engulf Kaisent.
With this power I can finish it.
Galayg thrashed and charged, yet Kaisent—now able to draw upon one hundred percent of the power of his father, the man who could reduce an entire planetary system to dust—could handle him easily.
But… is this all of me? Is matching Father's strength perfectly my limit?
Kaisent. If you set your mind to it, you can become anything.
It would be impossible for the timid you of now, yet I would like to see it once.
Your form stronger than mine.
You are the only existence that can threaten me.
The words his father had spoken to the fearful boy after battling the father of a parallel world rose clearly in Kaisent's mind.
No. I can become even stronger! I must become stronger—so that no one can ever take my women from me!
The trauma of being forced to part from a precious person because of his own weakness had remade him. Even if he had conquered fear in the original world, the ceiling he could reach would still have equaled his father's realm. But the Kaisent who had been torn from someone precious against his will now aimed higher than his father.
"Kuaaaaaaa!!"
Soul-wounded, Galayg flattened and spread his body thin and wide.
"I will annihilate your soul!!"
Minimizing damage by stretching himself into a vast sheet, he entered range and flung the entire mass forward, diving to smother the spot where Kaisent stood.
"Ha—hahahaha! Done! It's done! You damn brat! How dare you give me trou…ble… gone…?"
He crowed at having absorbed Kaisent's soul—then realized the triumph was an illusion. A strange gaze prickled his awareness and he looked upward.
Goooooooo——
"…Uh……?"
There, grown so immense that he filled the upper reaches of the mental world, Kaisent pressed down toward him with a single index finger.
Galayg had been vast enough to be called a flesh tide, yet he had become smaller than the fingertip of the boy who now turned the full power of his soul toward surpassing even his father's strength.
"A—aa. Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!!"
"Impossible! I only reached this height after devouring hundreds of souls!"
"A brat barely born!"
Galayg babbled and tried desperately to flee, but the descending index finger needed only the slightest course correction to overtake his frantic escape.
Kujijik!
The moment the finger crushed Galayg's mass, the sword spirit writhed in the agony of a soul being mashed and destroyed. When ordinary life ends the soul is reborn; when the soul itself is destroyed, everything ends. Writhing in the terror of true annihilation was only natural.
"But you have been devouring beings like that all along. Just as you tried today."
"Aaaagh! S-save me! Please save me! Spare me and I will become your slave! Please! I don't want to be annihilated like th——!"
Galayg begged for his life exactly as the black mage once had. That time Kaisent's protective instinct had erased the invader; this time he erased Galayg by clear, deliberate will. He had no desire to accept help from so thoroughly corrupted a creature. Moreover, such a being would betray the moment opportunity appeared.
Puhwak!
With a wet bursting sound the index finger lifted from the floor. Only what remained of Galayg lay scattered there.
This is the power of the soul I possess.
The power of the soul is the measure of talent. In other words, he carried the talent to surpass his father and climb still higher.
The road there will be long and harsh. Perhaps the lifespan of flesh will never keep pace with the limits of my talent.
Yet that did not matter. What mattered was never again allowing his treasures to be taken. Protecting those treasures was Kaisent's sole reason for growing stronger. And the more treasures he gathered, the greater the strength he would need to keep them safe.
What truly mattered was that Kaisent himself had felt and understood the infinite possibility and potential within him—that he could become anything.
He finally understood why the father he had once feared so deeply had named him the only existence that could threaten him.
I could become anything.
Good or evil, destroyer or guardian, villain or hero—according to the heart he chose, he could become them all.
With that confidence engraved upon his soul, and with the invader of the mental world gone, Kaisent's consciousness began to rise once more toward reality.