Preparing for the Trial, Part 4
A low murmur rippled through the paladins gathered at the training ground.
They had gathered here to witness the swordplay of a Sword Master firsthand.
Yet, the one who truly commanded their attention was not Pokryong, but...
Adelia von Goldheart.
"Her blade seems even sharper than when I saw her last," one paladin remarked.
"At this rate, she might even stand on equal footing with Sir Bauer."
"It won't be long before Midtemple's third great star is born."
Watching her dazzling growth, the paladins couldn't help but marvel in admiration.
Clang—!
At that moment, a sharp metallic ring echoed across the training ground.
Adelia's sword clashed against Pokyeomdo and was sent flying through the air.
"...Ah."
Adelia stared down at her empty hand with a hollow expression.
She seemed less disappointed by her defeat in the spar against a Sword Master, and more regretful that the fight itself had come to an end.
"Ha."
Watching her, Pokryong let out a dry, disbelieving chuckle.
"You really are a battle-mad lunatic, aren't you?"
"..."
"But seriously... I can hardly believe it. Are you really the same greenhorn I met in Labyrinth Village?"
Pokryong studied Adelia intently once more.
Adelia was breathing raggedly, drenched in sweat from head to toe, her breath burning hot.
It was a stark contrast to Pokryong, who showed not a single trace of exhaustion.
Yet, admiration shone clearly in the Fire Dragon's eyes.
Her growth is nothing short of miraculous.
Just a few months ago, Adelia could barely parry his strikes.
She had been so busy defending herself that launching a counterattack was out of the question.
But now, not only was she deflecting Pokryong's blows, but she was also actively looking for openings to strike back.
"Good work. Thanks to you, I got to stretch my limbs a bit."
"...I am the one who should thank you for the lesson, Sir Pokryong," Adelia replied, bowing respectfully.
Of course, this was only possible because Pokryong had held back considerably.
Even so, considering she had achieved this level of growth in just a few months, her future potential was truly limitless.
It was no exaggeration to say that in the near future, she would become an opponent who could give Pokryong the genuine, thrilling battle he so desperately craved.
Now this is someone worth cultivating.
Amused by the thought, Pokryong sheathed Pokyeomdo and made an offer.
"Hey."
"...Yes?"
"Adelia, was it? How about you come under my wing?"
"..."
Even during their spar, Adelia had adapted and grown by the second.
Having witnessed such terrifying talent, it was only natural for Pokryong to covet her as a disciple.
"You felt it too, didn't you? You were evolving the entire time we fought. If you train with me like this for just a few years, you'll surely reach the realm of a Sword Master—"
"I must decline."
Adelia shook her head without a moment's hesitation.
"I have already sworn my loyalty to Sir Gaon. Without him, I wouldn't have come anywhere near the level I am at today."
"..."
Her tone was absolute and unwavering.
It wasn't a polite formality or empty flattery meant for her master, but a statement born of deep respect and absolute conviction.
Staring at her, Pokryong couldn't help but wonder yet again.
Just what kind of monster is this Gaon guy?
Adelia was undoubtedly a genius.
But even with her talent, Gaon's guidance had to be the primary reason she had grown so explosively in such a short span of time.
How profound must his understanding of the sword be to nurture a disciple this rapidly?
He found himself growing increasingly curious about the true strength of the 13th Sword Master, Gaon.
"..."
A full day had passed since Pokryong, Pean, and the two pillars of Midtemple had arrived at the guest quarters.
Inside the quiet guest room.
I walked over to the window and quietly reflected on yesterday's events.
Jacques is backed into a corner.
His emotional instability was severe, as if he were caught in a vortex of chaos.
Under normal circumstances, Jacques wouldn't have lost his temper so easily.
But his defensive, hostile reaction yesterday proved that his mental state was incredibly fragile right now.
Well, it makes sense.
From the moment he realized the Aether's Eye of Retrospection had fallen into my hands, he probably hadn't slept a wink.
That was why he had been barking like a cornered dog.
In any case.
Everything was going exactly according to plan.
Jacques von Heibrun was a character who was utterly useless for progressing the game.
Throughout my two hundred playthroughs of Lost Elder, I had seen that he was incredibly greedy and equally stubborn.
Whenever the player tried to stop the apocalypse, he would constantly interfere, citing the most ridiculous excuses.
His official justification was always that he was preventing actions that violated Midtemple's laws and the Traditionalists' beliefs. In reality, he was just trying to protect his own influence from waning.
Yes.
Jacques von Heibrun was that kind of man.
An egoist who preached the greater good while secretly obsessing over his own safety.
A hypocrite who cried out for the stability of the Holy City, yet remained the most unstable element within it.
And as a result...
"How dare you insects insult the representative of God?"
"Fine. Very well. I shall cleanse all heretics with death. With my own hands!"
"I defiled the name of Midtemple? Don't make me laugh! From this moment on, this Holy City is mine! Anyone who dares oppose me shall be silenced by death!"
...He had ultimately fallen, becoming one of the worst bosses in the main story.
Because of his immense martial power, I thought he could be useful and tried to recruit him as an ally several times...
But those attempts always ended in failure.
Jacques von Heibrun betrayed me at every critical juncture, and his blade pointed at humanity in every single one of my two hundred runs.
A man of grand ambition but zero courage, who babbled about conviction but shirked all responsibility.
Cooperating with such a volatile element was no different from walking over a bottomless pit.
In the end, for the stability of Midtemple—no, for the entire world—Jacques must be eliminated.
Of course, I knew.
It was dangerous to make assumptions about a future that hadn't happened yet.
I might be jumping to conclusions. Since it was still the very beginning of the timeline, there were definitely things that could still be changed.
Perhaps, in this playthrough, there was a chance Jacques could change.
But...
Wasting time on an uncertain variable was foolish.
...In Lost Elder, choice and focus are everything.
This game does not wait for leisurely idealists.
A seemingly trivial choice could return as a massive storm, ruthlessly crushing the player later on.
Hadn't I faced countless such crises myself since waking up in this godforsaken world?
Therefore, I had no intention of wasting precious time hoping for Jacques's redemption—something that hadn't happened once in two hundred runs.
I highly doubted he was even worth the effort in the first place.
Besides, he has already crossed the line.
When Doricco Shiro corrupted the Sea Moon Mother, Jacques did nothing. When the Sky Ocean Forest was defiled, he did nothing.
And yet, he only offered excuses.
He claimed that temptation comes to everyone, and since he hadn't signed the contract, he hadn't crossed the line.
What absolute nonsense.
He might not realize it, but the mere fact that he had entertained the evil god's temptation was proof enough that he had already reached out to the darkness.
Jacques hadn't hesitated out of moral conflict; he had simply been calculating.
Because the timing wasn't right.
Because it wasn't profitable yet.
For the sake of his own greed, he had been nudging the boundary line forward, hoping no one would notice.
"..."
Jumping to conclusions is dangerous. I knew that all too well.
But this time, I was certain. Jacques von Heibrun had already crossed the point of no return.
And the proof was clearly recorded within the Aether's Eye of Retrospection.
The day of judgment is set.
It was time to make the man who chose consequence-free greed pay the price.
The reason I had engineered this Divine Trial...
It was all to set the perfect stage to condemn Jacques von Heibrun and the Traditionalist faction.
"..."
All preparations were complete. All that was left was to clip their remaining wings.
Knock, knock.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
I slowly opened my eyes.
"Lord Seeker,"
a priest's voice called out from beyond the door.
"Sir Heukgol has arrived in the Holy City."
"..."
"The Divine Trial is scheduled to begin tomorrow morning."
Finally, the final step to seizing control of Midtemple had arrived.
Tap, tap, tap.
Jacques von Heibrun tapped his fingers against the table, his expression dark and sullen.
Since yesterday, a rumor had been spreading through the Holy City at a terrifying speed: that Midtemple's third great star would soon be born.
The protagonist of that rumor was none other than Adelia von Goldheart.
Even with the blood of a Holy Family, how can a mere human grow strong this quickly?
"Damn it..."
Jacques grit his teeth, letting out a low curse.
Even Pokryong had publicly acknowledged her rapid achievements.
For Jacques, who had been stuck at a standstill for the past few decades, this was incredibly grating.
He tried his best to suppress the foul emotions rising in his throat, but then—
"..."
"..."
"Argh...!"
Jacques clamped his hands over his ears.
The auditory hallucinations that used to plague him once every few weeks were now relentlessly drilling into his ears dozens of times a day.
"...Shut up!"
Jacques lashed out at the empty air, panting heavily.
His breath came in ragged gasps.
He glared into the void with bloodshot eyes for a long time. Eventually, the voice whispering in his ears faded away.
Thud.
Collapsing back into his chair, utterly exhausted, Jacques sank into quiet contemplation.
...Gaon.
Tomorrow morning, the Divine Trial against that bastard would begin.
He already knows. He knows what I did.
That fact alone filled Jacques with endless anxiety. He couldn't even begin to guess what Gaon might pull at the trial tomorrow.
Still... there is no need to worry.
He slowly pulled off his glove.
Jacques checked the back of his hand.
There, a faintly glowing sword-shaped crest was etched into his skin.
It was the Sword Master's Seal, engraved upon the current head of the family by Pean, who was bound by contract to the Heibrun family.
In other words, anyone who wished to harm Jacques would have to risk a duel to the death with Pean.
Who would dare touch me when even Pokryong avoids fighting him?
Jacques walked to the window and looked down at the darkened landscape of Midtemple, desperately trying to soothe his anxiety.
Therefore, no one can harm me.
Suddenly, the words Gaon had spoken yesterday flashed through his mind.
That even three Sword Masters wouldn't be enough to stop him?
What a joke.
Such ridiculous bluffs won't work on me.
...At least, that was what he believed at that moment.
One hour before the Divine Trial, in the corridor leading to the Grand Temple.
"Are you guys out of your minds?"
Heukgol scratched his skull-like head, speaking in utter disbelief.
"The defendant of this Divine Trial is Gaon?"
"..."
"Then you should have summoned at least five of us, not three, you idiots. How the hell are the three of us supposed to stop him?"
While the priests looked flustered, a look of sheer bewilderment washed over Jacques's face.
...What?