Chapter 10
Chapter 10
In the world of Sedokma, there exists something called “dungeons.”
As in any fantasy world, dungeons are spaces filled with danger.
However, dungeons in this world have a unique characteristic: they are essentially a phenomenon of “erosion from another world.”
They are regions where this world overlaps with another.
Because of this, many abnormal occurrences take place inside dungeons.
For example, one might enter a cave located in the middle of a forest, only to find oneself inside a complex building.
Or one might enter a dungeon entrance located inside a building, only to emerge into a vast forest.
Most dungeons are treated as manifestations of demonic erosion that constantly threaten this world.
The monsters that exist in this world are mostly those that emerged from dungeons.
However, not all dungeons are like that.
There are also dungeons that were not born from erosion.
One such dungeon is the “Tomb of the God of War,” said to have been created by the God of War Bernas for his descendants.
Morde felt his heart pounding.
“Was I too hasty?”
He had blurted out the request as soon as the thought came to him, but now that he had said it, he wondered if it had been a reckless move.
The Tomb of the God of War was a place that the legitimate bloodline of Bernas challenged once as part of their coming-of-age ritual.
Because of that, its danger level was not particularly high, and there were no notable rewards to be gained from the dungeon itself.
However, due to its symbolic significance, Morde—an illegitimate child—requesting entry could be seen as dangerous.
It could be interpreted as an illegitimate child daring to overstep the authority of the legitimate bloodline.
“Hm…”
Grand Duke Bernas looked at Morde with a peculiar expression.
Since Morde had his head lowered, he could not see that expression. All he could do was wait, breaking into a cold sweat.
After a moment, the Grand Duke asked,
“Why do you wish to challenge the Tomb of the God of War?”
“Th-that is…”
Morde quickly ran his mind.
Revealing the true purpose of “world fragments” was out of the question.
And the fact that Morde, who had only recently come from outside, knew about the Tomb of the God of War itself would seem strange. It was not something widely known outside.
So it would be better to pretend ignorance of its deeper significance and respond in a way that focused on its symbolic meaning.
“I happened to overhear the trainees talking about it. They said it is a place that retains traces of the God of War Bernas. I wanted to see the roots of my own bloodline that I felt when I awakened my divine blood.”
At Morde’s words, the Grand Duke pondered for a moment, then said,
“Very well.”
“Grand Duke?”
Kesner was startled.
As far as he knew, there had never been a precedent of an illegitimate child entering the Tomb of the God of War.
Even he, despite being recognized for his numerous achievements as a warrior of Bernas, had never been granted such an opportunity.
“I understand what you are trying to say, but it is not entirely without precedent. During the rites, and for exploration purposes, there have been instances in history where descendants from outside were deployed. It is simply that there has been no reason to do so in my generation.”
“…I see.”
“Would you like to enter as well?”
“….”
Kesner could not answer immediately. But in his eyes burned a clear sense of longing.
The same would likely be true for any illegitimate child of Bernas if asked.
They had always been treated as inferior compared to the legitimate bloodline since entering the Grand Duchy of Bernas.
No matter how hard they tried, no matter how outstanding they became, they were ultimately made to recognize that they were inferior beings meant to serve the legitimate lineage.
Thus, they could not help but yearn for even a fragment of the privileges enjoyed by the legitimate bloodline.
“It has been 100 years since the last exploration. It might be interesting to conduct another one in my generation. I’ll grant a few of them the opportunity.”
The Grand Duke looked back at Morde.
“There is a condition. The day you leave the status of trainee and formally become a warrior, you will gain the qualification to challenge the Tomb of the God of War.”
“Thank you very much!”
Morde inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s done. Becoming a warrior isn’t something that lies too far in the future.”
More importantly, no one in the Grand Duchy—nor the Grand Duke himself—understood what it meant for Morde to enter the Tomb of the God of War.
“As long as I get there before Aidan, that’s enough.”
Morde coldly smiled, anticipating that day.
After sending Morde away, the Grand Duke fell into thought and asked Kesner,
“What did you think?”
“You mean that brat, Morde?”
“Yes. From your perspective, having faced him directly, what was he like?”
“He seemed to be hiding a great deal. It’s clear he didn’t fight me at full power.”
“But when he blocked my impulse ball, it seemed like he was at full strength. When he used body impulse, it didn’t seem like something he had been hiding—it looked like something he only just gained the ability to use.”
“That’s true. It really seemed like he only just became able to use it at that moment.”
When Morde used body impulse, both Todd and Kesner were shocked.
“I was surprised as well… But there are those whose training progresses slowly, yet their talent blossoms when their lives are threatened in real combat, aren’t there?”
Among the bloodline of Bernas, there were quite a few with such talent.
They were the bloodline of the God of War, those who surpass their limits through true life-and-death battles.
“Though rare, that kind of talent itself isn’t particularly surprising. What’s truly remarkable is his mana.”
Morde’s mana was at a level that even Kesner could not underestimate. It was truly monstrous talent.
“In terms of mana alone, he might even be comparable to Erna. But that boy…”
The Grand Duke frowned and trailed off.
“Pardon?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
To the confused Kesner, the Grand Duke shook his head.
“That gaze.”
For some reason, the Grand Duke couldn’t shake the memory of Morde’s eyes when he looked at him.
“There was a strange absence of desire.”
He had expected, as an illegitimate child, that Morde would show longing upon seeing his father.
The Grand Duke had more than just one illegitimate child.
Officially, only two had entered the Grand Duchy before Morde, but in reality, there were far more.
That was because the Grand Duke had sown his seed across the continent.
All illegitimate children who had met the Grand Duke before Morde shared the same eyes.
A longing to be acknowledged by their father, a longing to be recognized as his children.
But in Morde’s eyes, there had been none of that.
The Grand Duke found that unsettling… but soon dismissed the feeling.
“Am I becoming uneasy just from the eyes of a child? How weak-minded.”
With a scoff, he brushed the thought away.
Morde’s audience with the Grand Duke was kept secret.
Naturally, neither what he had done before the Grand Duke nor the fact that he had been granted conditional access to the Tomb of the God of War was revealed.
Thus, the issue that stirred the Grand Duchy the next day had nothing to do with Morde.
“I heard Sir Kesner will be entering the Tomb of the God of War.”
“He’s not the only one. Next up is Viscount Owen, apparently.”
It was officially announced that five illegitimate children of Bernas, each having achieved notable accomplishments and earned corresponding status, would be challenging the Tomb of the God of War.
The official pretext was “exploration.”
Ordinary dungeons disappear once cleared.
But the Tomb of the God of War is different.
Each time a new challenger enters, its internal structure changes. There are six patterns in total, and each time one is cleared, those patterns undergo slight modifications.
The legitimate bloodline of Bernas receives preparatory materials before attempting the tomb as part of their coming-of-age ritual.
However, these materials were written 100 years ago.
Though they had been revised slightly since then, the legitimate heirs did not put much effort into studying them, making them largely unreliable.
Thus, the Grand Duke used this opportunity to update the materials and granted five illegitimate children the right to enter the Tomb of the God of War.
“Not a bad pretext.”
Although five would be entering this time, the pattern encountered upon entry is completely random.
In the future, he could continue sending illegitimate children under the guise of updating the data.
“To become the sixth, I’ll need to graduate from trainee status as quickly as possible.”
On the day his three-day confinement ended, Morde headed to the advanced training grounds, burning with determination.
Advanced training began with basic physical conditioning.
It started with running across the wide training grounds at a steady pace, followed by various physical exercises under Instructor Deisley’s commands.
The intensity of this training was extremely high. Even advanced trainees, after completing 30 minutes of this continuous regimen with only brief 30-second rests in between, would be left gasping for breath.
“This is just a light warm-up.”
But for Morde, the training intensity was too low to be challenging.
He treated it as little more than light calisthenics while waiting for the next session.
“Morde.”
Instructor Deisley approached him.
“Because your progress differs from the other trainees, you will not be able to attend the same classes going forward. For today’s session, aside from basic conditioning, observe only, and after it ends, ask other trainees to teach you so you can catch up.”
“Pardon?”
For a moment, Morde wondered if he had misheard.
“You’re saying… I should ask trainees instead of being taught by an instructor?”
“I am a busy man. I cannot grant special treatment to you alone.”
“Then at least give an order specifying which trainee should teach me.”
“You are quite shameless.”
Deisley’s expression hardened.
“You injured the class leader severely on your first day, and now you’re asking for special treatment?”
“The punishment for that has already been served. And it was clearly established that the class leader was at fault for attacking first and even using divine blood.”
“Don’t talk back! Insolent brat! You haven’t even been properly educated and yet you demand special treatment?”
“Please speak properly. Special treatment? This is a reasonable request.”
“What?”
“You should be fulfilling your duties as an instructor. Ensuring each trainee keeps up with the group’s training progress is your responsibility.”
“You little—!”
Deisley was enraged. How dare a trainee disregard an instructor’s authority so blatantly?
“In that case, an instructor should naturally do their job.”
Deisley snapped, kicking Morde’s shin and grabbing him by the collar, pulling him up to eye level.
“As your instructor, I command you. For the rest of today’s training session, continue running laps around the training grounds. Maintain your speed without dropping below the required pace, and memorize everything being taught. If you fail to answer questions afterward, you will be punished.”
“……”
At that moment, Morde truly understood what it meant when people said their fists were itching to strike.
‘Should I just punch this old bastard?’
The urge surged within him.
Even back when he was Um Tae-seong, he had often clashed with teachers who behaved unreasonably, causing trouble.
Now that he was Morde, that tendency seemed even stronger.
“Did you understand? Answer me!”
Deisley shouted.
Morde glared at him, barely suppressing his anger.
“Right. I’ll endure this for now. I still need to enter the Tomb of the God of War.”
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Morde answered,
“…Yes.”
From that day on, Deisley relentlessly tormented Morde.
He taught him nothing.
He excluded him from training sessions on the grounds that he had not learned anything, denying him the chance to learn at all.
Not only that, he repeatedly found absurd excuses to punish him, over and over again.
Naturally, these punishments were not merely exhausting exercises. Deisley himself would inflict physical abuse, or have other trainees subject Morde to humiliation and pain in various ways.
For three days after his confinement ended, Morde spent every training session solely undergoing punishment. The fact that he didn’t explode during that time alone made him feel worthy of praising his own patience.
“What is his intention?”
Morde’s anger had reached its peak.
But at this point, instead of exploding, he began to think calmly.
“He’s just a narrow-minded old bastard, so he’s probably acting out because he’s mad about me standing up to him.”
The issue was that Deisley had been excluding Morde from training even before Morde had challenged him.
No matter how he looked at it, Deisley seemed to have harbored hostility toward Morde from the very beginning.
“Did he dislike the fact that I knocked out the class leader and disrupted the atmosphere on my first day?”
That seemed highly likely.
From what he had observed over the past three days, Deisley was a man who placed great importance on authority.
“No, not just importance—he’s obsessed with it.”
If he felt even the slightest encroachment on his authority, he would fly into a rage regardless of right or wrong. He showed no mercy to trainees who violated the unspoken rules of the advanced training grounds, subjecting them to humiliation and physical punishment.
One of his typical methods was to use training itself as a tool for torment.
For example, forcing trainees with large skill gaps into unrestricted sparring, or having one trainee fight multiple opponents while instructing the others to completely crush him.
“He didn’t use that kind of method on me… probably because the other trainees couldn’t handle me.”
Even Deisley limited his methods of torment within what he considered reasonable.
For instance, he could not simply order all trainees to gang up and crush Morde.
And with his usual methods, there was no way to suppress Morde effectively.
In that sense, resorting to baseless excuses and constant punishment was actually quite efficient.
For anyone other than Morde, such treatment would have already sent them to the infirmary with a broken body.
“If there’s another motive, I could figure it out and respond accordingly. But if he’s just doing this because he dislikes me… then his goal is probably to force me into submission so completely that I lick his boots.”
Naturally, Morde had no intention of ever doing that.
After a long moment of thought, Morde shook his head and stood up.
“Enough.”
Whatever Deisley’s intention was, it no longer mattered.
It was nothing more than petty malice from a narrow-minded old man. He no longer wished to waste his energy on something so trivial.
“I tried enduring it to learn what I could… but things have turned out like this. No helping it.”
More importantly, Morde had a method.
A way to break out of this situation without yielding to Deisley.
However, that method was quite extreme even by Morde’s standards, and above all, it carried significant personal risk, which was why he had hesitated.
“It’s about time I experienced proper real combat at least once.”
But his time was too valuable to be wasted on a petty old man like this.
‘If the world were to end because of wasted days caused by some old man’s pettiness… that would truly be a cosmic tragedy.’
Such a thing must never happen. He had to save this world from its destined destruction and achieve his goal.
Morde steeled himself and clenched his fist.