Roia's Ordeal (4)

Erti said this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with an intrigued glint in her eyes as she examined the imperial sword.

"This is a sword crafted with dwarven artistry. At a glance, it looks like the standard-issue blade used by the cadets here, but it's actually quite different."

"You can tell that right away?"

"Of course. I'm a sword among swords—a holy sword, after all. Even if I'm a bit broken now."

Erti smiled casually, as if it were no big deal.

The sword had been forged by Cecilia, who was a dragon, not a dwarf. But her crafting skills had undoubtedly been learned from the dwarves, so Erti's sharp eye was impressive.

Erti extended her hand. I carefully handed her my imperial sword. She gripped the hilt.

"It's well-made and sharply honed. The weight balance and length are perfectly adjusted to your build and swordsmanship. On top of that, the ice crystal core reinforces the blade's durability and adds elemental attack power."

She had pinpointed the features of my imperial sword with precision.

'She says she's broken, but she's incredible.'

She even swung it lightly. Despite her rustic village girl attire, the sword arc she drew was breathtaking in its flawlessness.

'Not a single wasted motion.'

I was now entering my brother's realm as a swordsman, so I could instantly recognize the level of her technique.

Yet even as she swung the sword, Erti's mouth never stopped moving.

"Hmm. That's no easy crafting technique. And dwarves have foul tempers—they're demonkin who despise humans and won't forge blades for just anyone. It's astonishing. Even back in the days with Atlin, artisans capable of making something like this were rare. Dwarves called 'artisans' would sooner die than be forced to craft. You couldn't even keep them as slaves."

Suddenly, the blade of the imperial sword gleamed with a milky white light—different from the blue glow of a mana blade.

Refined mana reaching its critical point, finally unleashing a new form of energy. The supreme realm attainable by any swordsman.

Aura blade.

To my astonishment, Erti channeled aura into my imperial sword and unleashed a series of sword forms in rapid succession.

"And a sword that can bear aura is something else entirely. Aura is mana tempered to its limit. An ordinary blade would shatter under it. But even with an ice crystal core, for an iron standard-issue sword to handle aura so effortlessly? That's not normal by any means. You're truly blessed."

Erti seemed more excited than I was. After swinging the sword for a good while, she finally noticed me standing there and looked sheepish.

"Oh dear. This is supposed to be your ordeal, not mine. My apologies."

She handed the imperial sword back to me. Then, with a sly, mischievous expression, she added,

"By the way, you. I get that you're handsome and popular with the ladies. But are you charming dwarves too? These runes engraved here—they mean 'affection.' And not the friendly kind between comrades, but the affection between man and woman."

Runic script was ideographic, with mana embedded directly into the characters themselves—magical writing. A perfect translation into imperial tongue wasn't possible. Erti seemed particularly fascinated by the 'affection' rune Cecilia had inscribed.

"And it's not just any affection. It's not merely spiritual love. It's the sticky, carnal lust between lovers who've shared their bodies. You do know what that means, right? Otherwise, the one who made it for you would feel slighted."

"I know."

"Oh? I see. The artisan who forged this must be head over heels for you. Then again, your father Riel was an elf, so you probably harbor no prejudice against demonkin."

Erti had resided in Agnes's ring before coming here, so she knew about my birth father—Riel, or more precisely, Lucifel.

"But you've lived as a human. Dwarves don't fit human standards of beauty at all, do they? Strange. Don't tell ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me you've been bedding dwarf women?"

Erti had misunderstood. For a moment, she seemed to picture me as some deviant with a fetish for dwarves. I corrected her.

"The artisan who made this sword is a dragon. She learned crafting from dwarves, though."

"A dragon? Really? A blacksmith dragon... I've lived a long time, but that's a first. I can't even imagine it."

Erti chuckled.

"That arrogant race wouldn't fall so hopelessly for someone who's only half-human on your own. Looks like the other half of your blood isn't elf—it's dragon."

She grinned slyly, like a middle-aged rogue.

"Come to think of it, dragons act all high and mighty, but they're beasts at heart. They even call their mating 'copulation.' How was it copulating with the one who made this sword? She carved 'affection' into it, so you must have brought her to ecstasy over and over, huh?"

This holy sword's spirit must have cracked when its body broke. I reined Erti in.

"Enough. Erti. Save the chit-chat—we need to get to the ordeal."

"Oh, has my rambling gone on too long? Very well. I'll guide you. Stand beside me. We're entering the battlefield."

Finally ending the banter, Erti turned around. As she did, her gaze flicked to my neck.

"Ah, one more thing. That rosario—take it off and give it to me."

The rosario she meant was, of course, Agnes's rosario.

***

'The rosario?'

I froze for a moment.

Agnes's rosario. Not only did it boost stats, but it also kept the mind in perfect calm—a saintess's holy relic.

I hadn't removed it from my neck once since acquiring it at my ordination ceremony.

'Without its mental stabilization, none of what I've accomplished would have been possible.'

Before possession, I was just an ordinary person. Yet I'd perfectly navigated life as Yulian von Reinhardt, with his tangled lineage.

Proof of that was this top-tier Roia ordeal—and Erti before me.

But without the rosario? I had no idea if my ordinary human mind could withstand the weight of my duties.

'A top-tier ordeal won't just be physical...'

As if sensing my momentary unease, Erti spoke up.

"When I lived in Agnes's ring, I was with her rosario too, so I know it well. It's Agnes's item, so it must feel warm and reassuring, like nestling into your mother's ample bosom. But this isn't a pleasure trip, is it? This is Roia's ordeal."

She was right. Confirming as much, she added,

"Agnes told me herself. If you're wearing her necklace, you must remove it for this trial. So take it off."

It had to come off. I steeled myself.

'No choice. Relying too much on items isn't good anyway.'

I'd passed Essemont's fever ritual successfully without it before. I was anxious, but not afraid.

Hoping my mind could hold without the gear boost, I unclasped the rosario right there.

The moment I did, system alerts fired off rapidly.

'Synchronization?'

I immediately felt what the alert meant in my body.

Back before possession, during last winter at the Essemont margrave's estate—I'd distinguished my pre-possession self from Yulian's body.

Now, thinking of myself as Yulian himself felt far more natural.

Son of the demon king and saintess.

Legitimate heir carrying the Reinhardt bloodline. I'd unconsciously accepted all those destinies as my own mission, not just Yulian's.

'So that's how it was.'

Since Pantheon's opening. Everything I'd done living fully as Yulian.

The disconnect from not being his original mind—Agnes's rosario had blocked it all.

'It let me become Yulian without side effects.'

The shock was minimal. With synchronization over halfway, removing the rosario didn't disrupt my sense of self as Yulian.

As I silently checked the system alert, Erti spoke to me.

"What's wrong? Ah, I see. This is a backspace realm. Once Roia's grand temple, but now even I don't know what's sealed here. Without a holy relic, maintaining mental fortitude must be tough, right?"

The backspace did feel like a monster dungeon, with ominous energy pricking my skin. But she was wrong.

With synchronization mostly complete, my mental durability seemed beyond that of an ordinary human.

'In other words, thinking as the demon king's heir, Reinhardt heir, and saintess's son.'

That meant embracing my body's mission.

Without the rosario's stabilization, I could endure this realm's evil aura just fine.

So what truly unsettled me wasn't just the backspace.

'Too much pent-up emotion.'

Feelings the rosario had restrained burst open, muddling my head. I hadn't noticed under its calming effect.

Now, my emotions toward the heroines flooded in.

The rosario had capped them at mere fondness, but now they surged deeper.

Eirin, Lilia, and the other top-fate-grade heroines. I'd shared intense physical bonds with them.

Any normal man would feel his heart stir after such intimacy.

'Yulian... I'm still young. And the heroines I've been with are captivating.'

The emotions I'd deliberately suppressed toward the heroines boiled over, complicating ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my thoughts.

Noticing my prolonged silence, Erti leaned in to peer at my face.

"Can you handle it? Agnes said you could, but if it's too hard, you don't have to push through the ordeal. I'm a broken holy sword, but that doesn't mean I'll give my body to just anyone. You can quit. I'm not an easy woman, you know."

Her teasing provocation snapped me alert.

"No. I can do it. Erti!"

I nearly told her to shut her noisy mouth, but held back.

'Without the rosario, my emotions are boiling faster than usual.'

To pass the ordeal, I needed to adapt to these feelings.

I handed the unclasped rosario to Erti.

"Hmm. So you're resolved? Alright. Entering the ordeal now."

Moments later, the scenery shifted to somewhere utterly unlike the village where the two had stood.

***

As Erti had said first, it was a battlefield.

The battlefield was a hellscape.

Bodies of humans and monsters littered the ground. Demon aura blanketing the plain stretched to the sky, dimming the sun.

Agonized screams echoed endlessly. Countless soldiers clashed fiercely with monsters.

Without the rosario's stabilization, their despair and terror flowed straight into me.

Erti spoke to my silent self, explaining the place.

"This is Essemont about a century ago. Specifically, the Bernige Plain. Ever heard of it?"

"Yes. The Bernige Defense War is mentioned often in history books."

"That makes explaining easier."

Erti continued.

The Bernige Defense War. The battle where Atlin von Reinhardt became the empire's hero, the Lion Sword Empress.

Five years before the siege phase, four Kaotic Gates had appeared on the continent.

Among them, Essemont—adjacent to the worst, the Eternal Frozen Land—suffered devastating losses.

Essemontites were famed for their ferocity, worshipping weapons from young to old. Even then, the White Night Knights held the empire's highest renown.

Yet despite the White Night Knights and Essemont's elite troops, the war was hopeless. Essemont lost half its territory to the monsters' southward push.

This place, Bernige Plain, lay in Essemont's central region—a gateway to the empire.

If breached, not just Essemont but the central empire with its capital would be doomed.

"The other Kaotic Gates threatened the continent too, but none compared to the Eternal Frozen Land. It was the only one spawning empire-grade nests back then."

As Erti said, the monster horde advancing on Bernige Plain was empire-grade.

A legion materialized from an empire-grade nest. Leading it was a boss monster beyond 1st form.

'Surpassing 1st form. The archfiend Graiel.'

I recalled the named monster from the history books.

Then, in an instant, my eyes caught a vivid light flashing amid the battlefield.

'What's that?'

The source was a female swordsman with intense golden hair like the sun. She cleaved a monster's neck and, for a moment, turned back toward where we stood.

Her face was identical to Erti's. At the same time, Erti murmured,

"Atlin."

It was a single word, laden with emotions that belied her prior playfulness.