Roia's Trial (3)

Clearly, this wasn't Pantheon Academy.

It wasn't the Imperial Capital Teria either, packed with its lavish buildings and countless structures.

A hazy sky and distant snow-capped mountains in the far off. A stark landscape that felt faintly gloomy at first glance. Somehow, it was familiar.

I stood at its heart—in the middle of an uninhabited village dotted here and there with crumbling, ruined homes.

Essemont?

The northernmost point on the Iseland continent. The cold, desolate north where white nights and polar nights reigned. If it looked like this anywhere, it had to be Yulian's hometown, Essemont.

And above all, the young woman standing before me. Her face was familiar.

The woman I remembered was clearly older than this one. At least in her late thirties, so I wasn't entirely sure it was the same person.

Our eyes met for a moment. The silence stretched a little longer.

I wondered if she didn't recognize me. But no—her gaze was unmistakably appraising me.

Just as I was about to speak to her first, her lips parted.

"It's been twenty years."

Her words caught me off guard. I had no prior acquaintance with her. I could guess who she was, though.

For starters, her appearance matches the portrait I saw in the margrave's mansion exactly.

The margrave's mansion had a dedicated hall set aside for it. There, portraits of the past heads of House Reinhardt were on display.

I pictured one of those former heads in my mind.

White hair reaching down to her waist. A cold beauty whose face seemed to embody the north's chill entirely. Her aura was as sharp as a blade forged from eternal snow or ice crystal stone.

There was no mistaking it. She looked just like that person.

Sword Empress. Atlin von Reinhardt.

A great hero of House Reinhardt whose name lived on even in the history books. Though this woman before me appeared far younger than in the portrait, she resembled Atlin.

She continued speaking.

"No, that might cause a misunderstanding. This is our first meeting. And precisely speaking, it's been seventeen years. Agnes truly was right—you've come to this sub-space just as she said. Quite astonishing."

"Agnes? You mean Agnes von Reinhardt?"

"Yes. She brought me here seventeen years ago. She told me then that her son would come someday. To please take good care of him."

I was startled inwardly. The Great Saintess Agnes. I knew of her prophetic powers.

Did she foresee that I'd enter a top-tier trial like this?

Strictly speaking, I wasn't Agnes's son Yulian but a possessor who had taken over his body. Still, I decided to focus on the woman before me rather than dwell on Agnes.

In Demon King Slayer, I'd never entered a 1st Tier trial. This is my first time with something like this.

I answered her.

"That's right. I am Yulian von Reinhardt, son of Saintess Agnes—Agnes von Reinhardt. Then, might you be Atlin?"

The great hero who had shone a hundred years in the past. If this woman was Atlin, she was a direct ancestor of my Reinhardt line.

I was about to show proper respect to the family head when she denied it.

"No. I'm not Atlin."

My guess was wrong. But her appearance matched the portrait of Atlin perfectly.

Then who is she?

As if reading my question, she revealed her identity.

"Well, with this appearance, you'd naturally think of Atlin. I'm not Atlin—I'm Atlin's sword. Erti."

With ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠those words, I realized who—or what—she was.

A sword? Then surely...

The holy relic passed down in Iseland. The holy sword Sielertia, said to date back to the High Empire era.

That holy sword had symbolized House ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Reinhardt for ages, but its whereabouts became unknown after Sword Empress Atlin wielded it last.

There was no other sword I could think of as "Atlin's sword" besides Sielertia. It had been her symbol.

"Then... are you saying you're the holy sword Sielertia?"

"That's right. Ah, of course, I've been completely broken for ages, so that fancy name feels burdensome now. Just call me Erti, please?"

I nodded readily at her words.

***

Erti and I walked side by side.

She explained to me how she, a holy sword, had come to be in this place—Roia Hall, or more precisely, the sub-space of Roia's temple within Pantheon.

"Truth be told, I was never missing. When Atlin wielded me last, I was utterly shattered and became unusable as a sword. So I simply slumbered intact in the Reinhardt mansion."

Sielertia was a holy sword and an ego sword that chose its own master. The heads of House Reinhardt had all been renowned swordsmen, so wielding her posed no issue.

But the holy sword that was said to have vanished after Atlin had simply been sleeping in the Reinhardt mansion's warehouse.

"Shattered to pieces, no longer resembling a sword at all. Only the core remained, indistinguishable from an ordinary ornament at a glance. And House Reinhardt, lords of the north, had no reason to pay much mind to a mere gem."

Upon destruction, she had lost all her divine power as a holy sword. Thus, even the Reinhardt heads never suspected it was the holy sword.

But hidden within that small gem, barely sustaining her faint will as an ego sword in slumber, Erti had been found by a young girl—Agnes.

"She was an extraordinary child, Agnes. The moment she found me, she knew I was Sielertia. Or rather, perhaps I reacted to her divine power."

Erti's will had been on the verge of dissipation. But borrowing Agnes's divine power, she was revived.

"Even so, I couldn't return to being a full holy sword overnight. Instead of a sword, I became a ring on her finger. Agnes wanted to restore me, but she had so much to do with the great war against the demonkin. Seeing her always apologize to me like that... it hurt."

And so Agnes had entrusted the holy sword's revival to her son.

"Instead, she said the hidden power of Pantheon Academy—precisely the 6 Temples—in this sub-space could restore me to being the holy sword Sielertia. And she promised me that her son would surely accomplish it."

From Erti's explanation, I could be certain. The trial of the 6 Temples, performable only at Pantheon Academy.

Its goal wasn't mere growth or a quest for some simple item.

It was a trial for the revival of the holy sword.

That made the trial quest's objective crystal clear.

Holy Sword Sielertia. To avert Iseland's impending doom, no sword would be more fitting than that famed blade.

For a moment, I wondered why she took Atlin's form, but I didn't bother asking.

Ego swords borrowing their master's appearance temporarily isn't unusual.

Erti and I left the village and headed up a nearby hill.

From the summit, the wretched sight of the destroyed village came into full view.

"This isn't real space. It's Essemont from my memories a hundred years ago, manifested using the power of Roia's forgotten temple. Your qualification will be proven here."

Still only a core, but a holy sword chooses its master. The trials here would test if I was worthy to wield her.

I checked her with the system. She looked unmistakably human on the surface.

As the system displayed, Erti was no person but the core of the holy sword.

Epic grade. Then Sielertia herself must be...

Legend grade, mentioned only in Demon King Slayer's logs. Revived, Sielertia would surely qualify for that pinnacle tier.

Erti sat on a nearby rock for a moment.

She had Sword Empress Atlin's face, but unlike the dignified armored portrait, Erti's attire was that of a simple country girl.

It suited her calm tone, somehow detached from worldly affairs. She spoke.

"Then, before we begin the trial... shall we do a simple check first?"

***

Erti examined my appearance. Checking if I was prepared to enter the trial as I was.

"Roia's trial isn't something you rush into blindly, after all."

My current outfit was combat garb topped with armor—like when heading out on reserve squad duty.

"Looks fine. Well, with Agnes's arrangements getting you here, she wouldn't send you in pajamas. Battlefield-ready as is. Good work. Can't face Roia's trial without a sword, and I already know your skill."

"How so? I haven't even drawn my sword yet."

I asked Erti casually. I wanted to learn more about her.

"Because I've always been here in Roia's temple. I'm in the sub-space, but this is still Pantheon Academy's Roia Hall. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I witnessed everything that happened there."

She smiled faintly as she said it.

"Having a will as a mere sword is exhausting. It's boring stuck in the core. Lucky this is an academy. Can't chat with people, but as a sword, watching combat division cadets was entertaining enough."

So Erti knew everything I'd done in the combat division.

"Last year you slunk off depressed and never came back. But this year, you're completely different. Of course, that was all an act. You've come for me just as Agnes said."

She was slightly off on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truth, but even as a holy sword, she hadn't noticed I was a possessor. No need to tell her that.

"And lately, it's been quite intriguing. Seeing the Lion Heart Sword after nearly twenty years. Though it's quite different from the original I remember. Your skill's not bad at all. Ah, and not just you—the pink-haired cadet Lucia, too."

Her next words genuinely surprised me.

"A different kind of talent from yours. That swift sword, speed sword. Undoubtedly carries Orhain blood."

Erti had even discerned that Lucia bore Orhain lineage.

Orhain, like Reinhardt, one of the empire's founding merit houses. Not strange if Erti knows of them.

And for her calm tone, Erti was quite the chatterbox. Maybe from finally meeting someone after so long, or an ego sword trait, who knew.

"So, shall we see your sword? Ah, I mean an iron one. Meat swords belong on the bed, not the battlefield. Don't just whip it out in front of me. I'm a woman, you know."

She dropped a line that would fluster any listener. When I stared at her in bewilderment, she grinned shamelessly.

"Why the look? Essemont-style joke. Or do you want a rougher one?"

"No, it's fine."

"Really? You're different from Atlin. She was truly taciturn. But she enjoyed her soldiers' rough jokes plenty. Dirty ones too. Ah, Agnes as well. That girl would trade crude jokes openly with the troops. Maybe because by the time she became famous as a saintess, she was already a married mother who'd borne you."

"I get it. Let's check my sword first."

Any longer, and her chatter would go on forever. I drew the imperial sword from its sheath.

The new imperial sword forged by Cecilia. The moment Erti saw it, her eyes changed.

"Who made this sword?"