Chapter 270

Chapter 270

*

It reigns.

Ivan moved forward, shaking off the dust that had settled around him. His knees were still creaking. Just from that last blow, his physical performance had dropped by about 40%.

He chewed on the sensation from that brief moment as much as possible. It felt like his instincts as a living being were yielding to something other than his reason. The reverence towards a king, or perhaps the primal fear of the ultimate predator.

“Did you understand it the moment you saw it?”

From a height two heads above Ivan, Einar wore a smile at the corners of his mouth.

It was difficult to recognize the shadowed face. But his gaze shone starkly, like a beast lurking in the darkness.

The murderous intent of the trained was enough to harm civilians. In the case of a superhuman, it could even kill. Murderous intent has a clear substance within this damn medieval fantasy.

The essence of such a field lies right before him. A being that creates phenomena equivalent to magic solely through murderous intent. His deadly aura forced even superhumans to their knees and commanded submission from everyone within range.

He understood the principle.

“The manifestation of murderous intent.”

“30 points.”

Einar tilted his head as if expecting Ivan to provide an answer next.

“You must give a better impression.”

“The limits of a species.”

“...Hoh.”

If what he meant was to grasp not the principle of the phenomenon, but the process of its realization, then indeed.

The answer was already within that. The materialization of murderous intent is merely a means; if one is to look at it as a purpose rather than a principle, then yes.

Transcending the limits of a species. The true essence of the martial arts of thought that he had vaguely grasped.

Carving the inner imagery and will into the world. Drawing forth the intangible things, such as murderous intent and enlightenment, will and experience, to interfere with the principles of the world.

Bringing about acts akin to magic, without consuming mana, even though it is not magic at all... perhaps like miracles of the divine.

Ivan knew about these things.... He had been trying to ignore them, and until now it had been difficult for those who had used the martial arts of thought to grasp them.

Seeing it being wielded with primal desire itself as the thought made it even clearer. The truth of thought that he had not realized until now.

“The way to become a member of the Seven Dragon Lords....”

“To be precise, it is the way to become a god.”

Einar smiled grimly.

“Meticulously crafted thought, a will that penetrates one’s entire life, the act of imposing that vague concept upon the world. Yes, isn’t it similar to the concept of the Seven Dragon Lords?”

Those who surpassed human limits are called superhumans. Then, what should we call those who have reached the thought beyond the limits of superhumans?

It is a boundary. A boundary drawn by the world itself. While they may have the form of humans, once they step beyond it, they can no longer remain human.

It is the process of sublimating into a concept.... An endless journey of a soul trying to peel away from the shell of a species and move toward a higher place.

Every human possesses the potential to become a god. No, any race in this world is no different.

The members of the Seven Dragon Lords have traversed such a process, ultimately attaining divinity, symbolizing their thought through their lives and will imposed upon the world. It is the result of overwhelming power and soul gaining gravity and devouring the principles of the world.

The essence of species evolution that has continued for thousands or tens of thousands of years.

A chance mutation.

The greatest product created by some destiny of the world.

The mistake of the god who created the species.

Those who were born with overwhelming talent and lived the life destined for them eventually reach divinity. Yes, if such conditions were deduced by scholars, then it doesn’t make sense that there are no gods among humans who are comparable to the Seven Dragon Lords.

Ivan pondered as he looked at Einar.

The minimum ‘qualification’ to reach the human god must be the completion of the martial arts of thought, and if afterwards one finally attains divinity through some ‘unknown’ experience and training.

Einar smiled bitterly as he lifted the axe.

“Now, I will conduct the final test.”

Now that they had come this far, only one trial remained.

“Prove that you possess the qualification.”

As one who has ‘seen and learned’ all the visions of the Hero Party, you must surpass your predecessors and become a new ‘Hero Party’ capable of standing against the old and opening a new era.

“Show me your thought.”

Einar’s eyes lit up, and once more, murderous intent began to tear through the air.

The black storm that distorted his vision surged towards Ivan’s body.

Ivan raised his axe, nodding slightly.

“I will gladly do so.”

*

On the snowy night of the coniferous forest, the scene of a calm battlefield blanketed in piles of corpses soaked in red blood.

Amid it all, Ivan stood alone.

Every piece of equipment surrounding him represented the martial arts of all his comrades that he remembered. Every kind of martial art he had witnessed lay buried here.

Einar scanned the scene, momentarily speechless, bowing his head.

“What is the name?”

“Memory.”

“Who named it?”

“Edelplatt Cohenulf.”

“That’s a name befitting an elf. Forget it. What is the name you gave it?”

“....”

Ivan fell silent, unable to respond for a moment. He gazed directly into Einar’s eyes and finished with a sigh.

“Home.”

“I see.”

Einar finally nodded. As a possessed individual, he must surely have a world where he was born and raised.

Yet for him, ‘home’ seems to exist only as a far-off scene from a concept, not a physical place.

He is a broken person. A wretched soul trapped in memories.

The purpose of his life has long been frozen in the distant past.... And so, he has become even more suited to this role.

A single person who can steadfastly and unwaveringly reach the conclusion without any other desires.

“100 points. Ivan.”

Einar approached briskly and grabbed hold of Ivan’s head.

Ruffling his hair with his coarse hand, he lowered his arm, gripping the hand that held the axe and lifting it up.

The forest scatters. To the capital of Drovian in the middle of the wasteland.

In the midst of countless kneeling warriors, Einar raised Ivan’s arm high and shouted.

“Behold! A new hero has been born!”

Waaah—!!

The warriors shouted in awe at the duel of the two great champions.

*

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