Holy Sword Veratus

"I shall inform you then."

Could a marquis on his level really bow his head so easily? That suspicion was entirely justified. On top of that, the bastard had been beaten half to death by me. Even someone utterly devoid of emotion would harbor a burning grudge after a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thrashing like that, yet here was Marquis Reshid swearing unwavering loyalty to me after setting aside any such resentment(?). What kind of nonsense was this?

If his explanation turned out to be utter bullshit, I planned to proceed with round two of his education.

"Your Excellency possesses the power to dominate the battlefield single-handedly, and given the right circumstances, even the strength to devour the entire empire. And yet, you seek to grow even stronger still. This speaks to just one possibility."

"And what might that be?"

"Something that transcends the empire!"

Marquis Reshid's eyes sparkled. So that's why he'd been so quiet lately—him and his faction had been scheming this way and that. Probably Count Raoul of the northern forces had persuaded the nobles. When our eyes met, Count Raoul simply bowed his head even lower.

"A survival strategy for the future?"

"We also yearn to witness a new world."

"The spots where I beat you must still be raw, and yet you're entertaining such thoughts. Admirable."

"Coming from a knight of common birth and a war noble comes with its limitations, so I understand why you're harsh on the nobility."

"Never crossed your mind that I might just be a madman?"

"Your Excellency has drawn a clear line. You're generous to the common folk. And to those you deem your own people, I believe you'd be the same."

"Oh ho, quite perceptive."

"I wish to become one of Your Excellency's people."

"Serving under a scum like me won't be easy, you know?"

"You'll surely raise an army within a few years. Do you think we can't endure that much?"

"……."

This was an unexpected windfall.

The gods' voices echoed in my ears. As expected, they wanted me to take these guys in. Just kill 'em all if they step out of line, right? they chattered.

"……."

In the end, the gods seemed firmly convinced that devouring the empire was where the story truly began.

Viscount Aron had set off on a journey to claim the holy sword Veratus. He'd return around the time the giantkin army reached the capital, Dark Bear City, so until then, we'd push forward and rack up merits.

Marquis Reshid and his faction advanced in their carriages. This "northern subjugation" was a joke—the main force had already been crushed, and the giantkin had withdrawn north, leaving the northern territories a lawless vacuum. We'd just steamroll in, occupy, plant our flags, and done. What could be easier?

Marquis Reshid still harbored a sliver of doubt about whether pledging loyalty to Aron had been the right call.

"We swore fealty on the advisor's strong recommendation, but was this truly wise?"

"The empire falls within a few years. And in a decade, the continent will be unified. When that day comes, will any nobles who didn't follow Viscount Aron still be alive?"

"……."

Everyone had witnessed Aron's overwhelming power. If you hadn't seen it with your own eyes, you'd dismiss the rumors as tall tales. How could a human be that strong? He was a war god who ruled the battlefield alone. Even if a million troops charged, it wouldn't be hard for Viscount Aron to slaughter the command staff.

Aron might even change the very paradigm of warfare. Count Lemsid backed the advisor.

"We've already sworn loyalty, so put other thoughts aside. Viscount Aron may not look it, but he's an exceptional strategist. And sharp as a tack. Show even a hint of suspicion, and we're all dead."

"So, the time has come to stake our lives on an adventure."

"Isn't that the fate of those who grasp power?"

They knew the nature of power well. They ruled this world as nobles, but one wrong allegiance could doom their houses.

Finding the temple wasn't hard. This was the world I'd designed and created—why would I make it tough for the protagonist to even locate it? In the novel, he found a map and followed it here, and now was no different. Know the spot, and it was a straight shot.

This was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Forbidden Zone, called the Devil's Forest even among the giantkin. Yetis, saber tigers, ice trolls—swarming with monsters and beasts. No one set foot here. I'd slain a few hundred on the way in alone. Now inside, it was clear why the belligerent giantkin had designated it forbidden. Few humans dared venture this deep, leaving the primordial temple safe for ages—that was the setup.

The holy sword Veratus was the mid-novel main event. With my current strength, it was risky but doable. Protagonist buffs and divine blessings made it possible. Without them? Best not to dream.

The temple sat midway up a sheer cliff face.

"This it?"

A millennium-old ice tree with a single rope leading down to the entrance. A double-layered trap of sorts, making the temple nigh impossible to find. Even with a map, it'd be a bitch. Enter the Forbidden Zone knowing of the primordial temple, and you'd likely die screaming. Camouflaged on a cliff like this, no one had beaten me to it.

I tied my rope to the tree and rappelled down. Halfway, a protruding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ledge—seemingly innocuous rock, but below was the abyss. This camouflaged wall was the primordial temple's entrance.

"Time to go in?"

Just as I was about to step inside—

"……."

What the hell was this avalanche of messages? Still, I'd finally hit favorite work 10! I'd half-expected it, but the rewards were solid: shop voucher, 500k karma, three synergy slots. New gods hadn't hit recommend yet, so no clue on blessings, but the God of Blacksmithing showing up? He'd be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a game-changer for upgrades. And that ominous random box. Solid haul overall, right? Nah, no complacency. Gods are fickle; they drop interest and cut losses anytime.

The gods' reactions were off the charts, but in the novel, the protagonist beat the guardian somehow, so I'd manage too. I eased into the cliff face. Looked like solid rock, but my foot sank in, pulling me into a tunnel. Inside was a bog-standard cave passage. I lit my prepared torch and trudged along.

Thud. Thud thud.

Stalactites everywhere, dripping wet. Textbook cave vibes—until suddenly, a massive cavern bathed in radiant light. Football-field huge, with a grand pedestal in the center. And there, plunged into it, the holy sword Jupiter.

Why so spacious? Because of the guardian protecting the sword. A giant at least 10 meters tall knelt on one knee. His savage, overflowing physique was sheathed in steel-like muscle, clad in bronze helmet, greaves, tough leather chestplate, and a hoplon round shield. Short gladii for his size hung at his hips—two of 'em—and he gripped a spear. Modeled after legendary titans, he resembled ancient Greek heavy infantry.

Crack! Creak crack!

After god-knows-how-long immobile, his joints groaned like breaking bones. The behemoth rose, face impassive.

—Are you the human come to free me from this curse?

"Aigoo, I set this up, but damn, he's huge. Should've dialed back the size."

—Three thousand years since the Sky God Jupiter granted me clemency. All that time, Sasyphos has awaited you.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid! Get at me already! Big bro's got places to be."