Chapter 22
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Origin
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Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel (5)
“Tus roh e Shiek kide El bas…….”
The waves of power did not spread into the air, but began to etch themselves onto the surface of the stone.
As if writing in a script of fire.
Wherever the flames flickered past, Draconic words were deeply engraved, shimmering gold. The process alone took a great deal of time.
“This is no ordinary Dragon Spirit Stone. It is a stone that contains my very essence—the essence of Yosyuhareu.”
Was he tired?
Yosyuhareu's white beard trembled as he held the Dragon Spirit Stone, which spewed a dazzling radiance.
“Why go to such lengths for me…?”
“Your question is a difficult one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is fine. Olliere Dune Jeraye, you may leave us now.”
Yosyuhareu waited for Olliere Dune Jeraye to bow and depart, speaking only after the door had closed.
“Humans are curious beings. They love their children, and for no reason, they love their children's children as well. It is a legacy of emotion called favoritism, a thing the gods did not grant the dragonkin.”
What did he mean?
Kaisen studied Yosyuhareu's face. The expression on a dragon's face was difficult to read.
“To me, your mother, Raminea Alter Aradamanthel, was like a daughter. Therefore, you are like a grandson to me.”
“Pardon…?”
“How were your mother's final moments?”
Again, Kaisen felt a sorrow welling up inside him. The grief of a boy who had lost something irreplaceable was profound.
“She saved me… and passed away with a smile.”
“Hold fast to that sorrow. A Warrior is one who turns will into power. Your sorrow will become a steadfast will and guide your path.”
Yosyuhareu held out the Dragon Spirit Stone.
Hesitantly, Kaisen took it with both hands. The stone was hot enough to burn his skin, yet so cold it radiated a hazy chill.
“Remember this. During the ritual, you must not, under any circumstances, lose consciousness.”
At Yosyuhareu's command, Kaisen sat cross-legged at the center of the shrine, on the spot where the Draconic ward for [Mind] was engraved.
Yosyuhareu sat upon his throne.
Surrounding the [Mind] ward, Wyvern priests in their humanoid forms stood in rows according to rank. The sounds of rosary beads clacking and prayers being chanted grew louder.
“Kest… Jer… Kendov… Nah… Muz… Qo… su… Vulon….”
Kaisen exhaled a deep breath.
The Dragon Spirit Stone, which he had been clutching in agony, suddenly began to be absorbed into his entire body.
And in the next moment.
“Ugh, aghhhhhhh…!”
A pain that felt like his entire body was being torn apart began.
A mass of searing power rampaged through him as if to shred his muscles and bones, spreading throughout his body. Beneath his skin, his veins and arteries began to glow with a crimson heat.
As he coughed up blood in agony, a ridiculous thought suddenly crossed his mind.
Was the human body truly this frail? Could the mere act of imbuing it with a fragment of a dragon break its tendons and shatter its joints?
*Clack, clack, clackclackclack….*
Amidst the maddening sound of the rosaries, the world blurred into two, then wavered into three, before returning to one, over and over. His whole body trembled at the chilling finality of death.
—*Remember this. You must not, under any circumstances, lose consciousness.*
Even as thick blood poured from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, the boy did not break his cross-legged posture.
It hurts, it hurts….
It hurts so much I think I’m going to die….
His ears began to ring. His skin tore, and his rampaging blood vessels burst forth, spraying a distorted mist of blood.
—*My dearest treasure in all the world….*
I….
I will obtain this power….
The power to cut and cut again… to return to the southern lands, where my ruined home and my mother’s grave lie….
—*Kaisen, we have to go. We have to let Camilla rest beside the Captain….*
As the power of the Dragon Spirit Stone blazed fiercely throughout his body as if about to explode, the boy's form began to twist in a bizarre fashion.
His frame lengthened and strengthened, and the power of the dragon danced in his veins.
In the midst of the indescribable pain, his hair began to bleach, turning stark white, and a violent vortex of power surged around him.
“Kest… Jer… Kendov… Nah… Muz… Qo… su… Vulon…!”
The hems of the priests’ robes, who were chanting the final prayer, flapped wildly in the storm.
Then, the vortex of power was sucked into Kaisen’s body, and in an instant, a fierce silence descended.
The light that had flickered from the boy's body, as if his eyes were on fire, also faded.
“Indeed….”
As Yosyuhareu held his breath in suspense, the boy exhaled a long breath and slowly opened his eyes. His white hair, which had been fluttering in the air, settled.
His eyes, which seemed to gaze not at this place, but somewhere far away—at the distant southern sea where his lost home lay—were a brilliant, resplendent gold.
The priests let out gasps of awe.
“I have never seen such a clear gold.”
“Can it be that Yosyuhareu’s lofty majesty has been imbued in that small body?”
“Child of Raminea, how is your body?”
Is it… over…?
The torturous waves of light and heat had finally subsided, so Kaisen opened his mouth to speak.
‘Huh?’
But why is the world….
Why is it tilted to the side… why is the world… tilting….
***
When he opened his eyes again, Kaisen was lying on a bed in the infirmary. The sunlight piercing his corneas was bright and heavy.
“…?”
Though his eyes were open, he was disoriented for a moment and had to blink several times.
His vision was clear.
No, it was far too clear.
He could pull distant objects closer to see them in detail, and push near objects away to grasp the whole situation.
That wasn't all.
A power that felt otherworldly was surging through his entire body. The waves of power were as cool and tranquil as a river.
“You’re awake?”
Olliere Dune Jeraye was standing at the head of the bed.
“Instructor… I can see….”
“Yes, I imagine you can.”
Olliere turned a mirror from the bedside table toward Kaisen.
Huh? The reflection of his own eyes in the mirror wavered.
In the morning sunlight, the dragon’s eyes sparkled with a golden light, and half of his hair was streaked with white.
Golden eyes and white hair—the symbols of a FakeWarrior.
His body had also undergone a great change. His muscular limbs were several times longer than they had been in his boyhood.
“You’re huge. The average height of a FakeWarrior is around six feet, with the occasional individual nearing seven. You’re well over seven feet. This is on par with a High Tark chieftain.”
Is it because I’m male?
Unlikely.
It was likely the difference between being imbued with the spirit of a True Dragon versus that of a Wyvern. The difference in size between True Dragons and Wyverns made the result understandable.
“Instructor, I… I… is this… was it a success… it was a success, wasn't it?”
His breath came in ragged bursts.
In his memory, his mother’s eyes had sparkled just like this. And in his memory, Camilla’s hair had been this pure, innocent white.
Perhaps that was why. Why he felt that only now, at long last, had he caught up to them….
A thrill ran down his spine. Olivier, who had been nodding, smiled faintly.
“Yes. Congratulations, Kaisen. The first male FakeWarrior… this is going to turn the world upside down.”
“!”
“Now, go and experience for yourself how your body has changed.”
***
“Alright, all of you have spent one, two, or perhaps three years mastering all the swordsmanship and combat skills required of a FakeWarrior.”
Kelli Dune Jeraye said.
It was the final class for the 997th class. Their number, which had been seventeen, was now down to three.
Including Kaisen, that made four. The other thirteen had not withstood the power of the Dragon Spirit Stones and had died.
“All that remains now is the training that only FakeWarriors can undertake. No, it’s less like training and more like changing your perception.”
“My dear Instructor!”
Isla raised her hand.
She had been the disciple of Ryunel Alter Gaumris, who fell in the siege of <Tervenople>. She, too, had survived and now possessed golden eyes.
“According to Isla’s memory, this training has been done before!”
“What truly phenomenal memory.”
“Isla thanks you for the high praise!”
“That was sarcasm. As a tribute to your foolishness, you’ll be the first to receive this training. Isla, get to the starting line.”
This was originally a balance exercise. A massive pit was dug deep into the ground, with five bamboo stalks laid across it.
If a cadet lost their balance or concentration, the bamboo would break, and they would fall.
“Are you teasing Isla? Isla can do this with her eyes closed now!”
“No need to close your eyes. Just try jumping from there to this side.”
“?”
“Your bodies have already surpassed human limits. This class is to make you recognize that not with your head, but with your body. Now, go on and jump!”
Kaisen saw Isla hesitate for a moment before launching her body into the air after a short run-up.
What…?
It was a simple leap, yet it had the force of a powerful ground-stomp. Isla’s body landed on the other side of the pit before she stumbled and fell on her bottom.
“Oh…?”
“What was that, just now….”
The jaws of the 997th class cadets watching beside Kaisen dropped.
“Did you see that! Did you see! This is the power of Isla!”
As Isla danced around, hopping up and down on her adorably small frame, even Kelli Dune Jeraye had to struggle to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching.
“You saw that, right? What you’ll be learning for the next three weeks is to fully recognize the potential your new bodies hold. Seira, you’re next.”
The other two members of the 997th class also demonstrated their transcendent physical abilities, clearing the pit in a single leap.
Kaisen was amazed.
Seeing his peers succeed gave him confidence that he could do it too, and he felt a surge of excitement. Kelli nodded.
“Last one. Kaisen, go on, show these uglies the power of the first-ever male FakeWarrior in history.”
Isla’s eyes sparkled.
Seira, the disciple of Aresia Alter Solang who had also fought in the siege of <Tervenople>, also watched Kaisen with a grinning expression.
“I wonder…?”
Kaisen took two or three steps back, then powerfully kicked off the ground, launching his body over the pit.
“…?!”
“…?!”
“…?!”
At the result that followed, the cadets of the 997th class had to doubt their own eyes.
Even Kelli took off her glasses (which she still wore due to a flaw in her body modification) and wiped them on her uniform sleeve before putting them back on.
“Kaisen, are you alright?”
The hero of this miracle was groaning as he pushed himself up from the muddy bottom of the pit.
He hadn't even made it halfway across.
Faced with this unprecedented situation (though a man becoming a FakeWarrior was also unprecedented), all the instructors gathered.
“Kaisen, try it again.”
Olliere Dune Jeraye said.
He had rushed over after hearing Kelli’s report about the unusual phenomenon.
—*His physical abilities haven't been enhanced?*
—*No. He only had the strength of a normal person.*
Kaisen’s white hair was already stained with mud, and his training uniform was soaked through.
“I’m going.”
Kaisen took two or three steps back again. The moment he was about to jump after a short run-up.
“Stop!”
Olliere shouted again.
The cadets of the 997th class looked at their head instructor with bewildered expressions.
Olliere expertly leaped across the pit and landed beside Kaisen.
“This is strange… The power of the Draconic isn't activated in your Chain Link.”
The ManaChain was the chain of power swordsmen used to circulate their main force throughout their bodies.
FakeWarriors took it a step further, imbuing this chain with the power of the Draconic.
Therefore, when looking into their mana, one should normally see a golden chain tightly wrapped around their mind and body.
“Kaisen, do you remember the feeling of activating your Sword Aura?”
“I can’t do it perfectly yet… but I remember.”
“Try doing that now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
It felt ridiculous to meditate on activating his Sword Aura without a sword in hand.
But the boy focused.
As a hazy radiance began to rise and swarm from his body, Olliere felt a shock, as if his corneas were being seared.
‘What is this…?’
It was blinding.
The thought struck his mind with an unnatural jolt.
Blinding? So bright it’s blinding?