Great Enlightenment

“Raiga?”

“Don’t tell me—the direct disciple of Family Head Dantalian?”

“I heard the Sanctuary rejected him.”

“Family Head Dantalian even sealed the gates and stepped down from the headship just to take him as a disciple.”

“So in truth he has no connection to the Palga at all, does he?”

The Sanctuary erupted into noisy debate.

The moment Great Elder Albino spoke Raiga’s name, nearly everyone gathered here recognized it.

The previous head of the Palga, Dantalian, had once visited the Sanctuary intending to accept Raiga as his disciple. The Sanctuary refused him. Of course it had. Raiga’s status had been that of a slave—a man with no honor, who did not even know what honor was.

Yet Dantalian sealed the Palga’s gates in order to take Raiga as his disciple. That act was the same as relinquishing the headship itself. Since Dantalian was no longer head of the Palga, his disciple Raiga likewise had no formal tie to the Eight Houses.

And yet here he was, brazenly reappearing after decades to covet the position of family head.

“Silence—”

A deep, resonant boom rolled through the Sanctuary. Great Elder Albino’s voice thundered with such force that eardrums rattled and heads ached; everyone clapped their hands over their ears.

“We will proceed with the Rite of the Family Head. Any of the Sixteen Masters who wish to participate, step forward.”

In the end there was no choice but to hold the rite. Raiga himself desired it; even the Great Elder’s authority could not simply brush that aside.

Moreover… the Great Elder was inwardly astonished.

The wellspring of life cannot normally be increased.

The quantity of life force is fixed at birth. Ordinary means cannot expand its total—except by the method used here in the Sanctuary to “halt” it. That was why the Great Elder and the other elders had been able to live so long within these grounds, and why the Sixteen Masters and countless disciples had outlasted ordinary human lifespans.

Yet it was only halted. Step outside, or be forcibly dragged out, and the wellspring would begin to drain. Opening the 5th Gate, which drew every last drop of that power, was one such example.

The total of his wellspring has increased.

Until the moment he faced the World Tree’s trial, Raiga had been on the verge of death. He had accepted that death. Not anymore. In a single fleeting instant he had crossed a wall—and not an ordinary wall at that.

What people commonly call enlightenment is so brief that one must meditate for long ages afterward simply to grasp what one has realized. Raiga, however, had awakened in a single moment.

Great Enlightenment.

True, genuine realization requires no time to internalize. One need only accept it as it is. After crossing countless walls and traversing vast seas, a person inevitably grows attached to what he has filled himself with. Especially a powerhouse of Raiga’s caliber—such men are all stubborn. Long experience convinces them that only their own path is correct.

To cast aside that stubbornness, empty everything, and begin again from the start… the words are easy; the choice is anything but. Nor is it something one can simply decide to do. Only true repentance and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠true realization allow one to awaken.

…He has stepped into the realm of mastery.

The Sutra of Life and Death—a realm said to be unreachable while still alive. Raiga had attained complete mastery of that realm. When Albino first saw him he had been merely at the threshold; by emptying everything and filling himself anew he had at last become whole.

Life-Death Realm Mastery.

A catastrophic level of martial power capable of erasing an entire civilization single-handedly. Even in the most brilliant civilization that had existed before Ruin’s appearance, only a handful of experts had ever reached full mastery of the Sutra of Life and Death—those who perfectly understood the boundary between life and death.

Raiga had become a living immortal. He had completed the 5th Gate and drawn away from the death that had been appointed for him.

“All Sixteen Masters wish to participate in the Rite of the Family Head.”

…Yet the Sixteen Masters—especially the upper eight—were experts who had trained in the Sanctuary for centuries. They were monsters the Great Elder himself had raised in preparation for the next appearance of Ruin. They could not afford another hollow defeat like the last time Ruin had come.

That world had possessed so many powerhouses and a civilization so mighty it seemed to touch the heavens. Yet Ruin had been far too strong. Even allowing that they had been unprepared, even allowing that each had been drunk on his own excellence and defeated in detail… whenever Albino recalled those memories, his body still trembled with rage.

I have lived thousands of years for the sole purpose of killing Ruin.

That was why he had joined hands with the Palga—with the first family head, that prophet. Becoming Great Elder, ensuring the Palga’s continuous succession, raising disciples—all of it had been for that single reason.

To kill Ruin!

Thus he had extracted only the purest essence and trained the Masters. The lower Masters were occasionally replaced, but the upper Masters had held their seats unchanged for long ages.

Even if Raiga had reached Life-Death Realm Mastery, could he truly face every Master Albino had raised with such wholehearted devotion?

“A moment.”

Just then, right before the duels were to begin, Raiga spoke.

“There is one correction. I am not the one who achieved ‘perfect honor.’”

“Raiga…!”

The Great Elder hurriedly tried to stop him. Making a man who had once failed into family head was already delicate enough; there was no need to volunteer the truth now of all times. But Raiga’s will was firm.

He looked upward—toward the second floor of the hall, toward Hyun standing in a quiet corner—and smiled gently.

“It is my disciple. I myself never even fulfilled the first qualification.”

…He had gone and done it. The Great Elder inwardly sighed. Now the matter would have to be proven by pure strength alone. And that would by no means be easy—especially against the upper Masters who had trained specifically to kill Ruin.

“Yet my disciple told me something. A disciple’s honor is the master’s honor.”

Raiga laughed—a little awkwardly, yet at last recovering his composure.

“I cannot bring myself to be a master inferior to his own disciple, so I have no choice but to give my utmost.”

And he declared it: he would show no mercy. He would collide with everything he had. Therefore—

A fierce grin.

“Do try not to die.”

Raiga’s sword.

His blade had always possessed restraint—form, a framework he himself had established. But the sword he wielded now was different.

Sword dance.

The moment the duel against the Sixteen Masters began, Raiga’s movements looked exactly like a sword dance. Yet the Palga’s swordsmanship contained no such thing; every technique was specialized for severing the grain of existence.

Beautiful.

Watching him, I let out a quiet breath of admiration. This was clearly different from before. His breathing, the way he faced the blade—there was room to spare. The way he connected and cut off each motion had become far more natural. No longer rigid, he met sword with sword and let the force flow away smoothly.

Strong.

Yet the Sixteen Masters were no pushovers either. The upper eight who stood in the front rank especially possessed earth-shaking skill—enough to stand as equals against the Raiga of this moment.

A heavy boom shook the Sanctuary. The shockwaves of clashing blades alone felt as if they would twist one’s organs. The Great Elder and the other elders spread their mana to shield the onlookers, but they could not stop the vacuum of force. Most spectators had already retreated far into the distance.

So this is the true power of the Palga…

One of the four great representative houses that formed the Empire. If the Palga’s strength reached this level, what of the others? The Imperial House of Archon, Isabella’s Derseian, and the Rahon. One thing was certain: even combining every other house would not match the mystery the Palga now displayed.

If I obtained the Palga, I would gain an unprecedented force at my back—a vast military power I had never possessed before. The druids as well. Blade Dragon God Hana, the two children, and the Demon Blood Species were already a formidable faction, yet in a head-on clash the Palga would likely prove stronger.

And that was not all. The Palga’s power was truly alluring.

Eight of them have opened the 5th Gate.

The battlefield blazed with radiant golden light. Nine in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠total, including Raiga, had opened the 5th Gate. The rest had opened the Four Gates.

Yet something puzzled me.

Doesn’t opening the 5th Gate mean certain death?

Were they risking death just to face Raiga? Or had Raiga, being only “half,” never been able to handle the 5th Gate properly before?

Grain… grain… grain…

The question was soon forgotten. Sudden realization struck. Raiga’s sword—and every grain the Sixteen Masters manipulated—was different. I could see them.

Empty-handed, I closed my fingers as if gripping a blade. Something felt as though it would catch. The invisible. The uncuttable. Now I felt I could see it, and cut it.

Just a little more…

I slowly swung an imaginary sword through empty air, following Raiga, dancing the sword dance together with him. In that instant Raiga raised the intensity of his dance still higher—as if daring me to keep up. The brilliant golden waves surged even more violently.

“Nngh…!”

One fell. Then another. Those who had continuously received Raiga’s blade could no ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠longer endure and were defeated. In the blink of an eye every lower Master was cast out of the arena. When only the upper Masters remained, the battle grew far more ferocious.

Even so—

Just a little more…!

I was simply captivated by his new realm. Raiga ceaselessly increased the intensity, unleashing every power the Palga had inherited. I chased his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sword with everything I had.

“You claim to have completed the 5th Gate—to have attained the ultimate principle?”

When only two of the Sixteen Masters remained, they asked in astonishment. Raiga’s skill had already surpassed the realm they had imagined. The Great Elder’s gaze wavered for the same reason. Something more than simple mastery was present. The martial power that had completed Raiga—and that Raiga had completed—contained a subtle principle that defied easy explanation. It was not the grain the Palga had passed down.

Yet—

“I have not yet reached the ultimate.”

Raiga shook his head. The true ultimate—the final sword Wilhelm had displayed in the Tower of the War God. Though he had seen it only once, that alone had been the genuine ultimate principle. Catching up to that sword still lay far ahead.

More than that, Raiga himself was far from unscathed. Large and small wounds covered him. Had he truly reached the ultimate, such injuries would not exist. And the two remaining opponents were monsters among monsters; most of the wounds Raiga bore had come from them.

“Come. Let’s keep playing.”

Raiga smiled. Duels against the strong were always enjoyable—but teaching a disciple was more enjoyable still. By sparring with these men he was educating his disciple.

And within the continuing struggle—

Ah…!

In the moment of Great Enlightenment, I slowly poured the realization I had gained into my fingertips—

Snap—!