Chapter 96: Imperial Palace (2)

Relics or ruins related to ancient heroes were usually managed by the Empire.

However, they did not monopolize all of them.

At times, they donated them to institutions or released them as research materials, and when someone achieved great merit, they would sometimes grant the hero’s relics in honor of those achievements.

This meant that, to the Empire, the traces of heroes were considered an important asset.

“Let us go down.”

Yulian left the Crown Prince’s Palace with Carl and Laysis and descended into the underground of the Imperial Palace.

“In the underground of the palace, the legacies of ancient heroes collected over several generations are stored. By now, it has become the largest vault not just in the Empire, but on the entire continent.”

The underground of the palace was protected with strict security.

Knights guarded every corridor, magical devices, barriers…

Without Yulian, the master key, breaking in alone would have been nearly impossible.

After descending for about thirty minutes, they finally stood before a massive iron door bound with violet chains.

“…”

Carl carefully examined the iron door, his eyes narrowing.

Naturally, it was no ordinary door.

Mana flowed faintly from it, but it was impossible to determine what kind of magic was placed on it.

At the very least, it must have been a barrier set by someone at the level of an Archmage.

Yulian stopped before the door and looked back at them.

“From here on, only the Emperor of the Empire, his heir, and those granted permission may enter.”

“…Are we truly allowed to enter such a place?”

At Carl’s cautious question, Yulian let out a hearty laugh.

“At least, I believe you are more than worthy. So, I am exercising my right. You may take it as an honor. In our generation, the number of people who have entered here can be counted on one hand.”

At Yulian’s words, Carl exhaled lightly, tension in his breath.

If his hypothesis was correct, Justice was certainly a master from the Central Plains.

Judging by his title, there was a high chance he was a chivalrous warrior from a prestigious orthodox sect.

Perhaps he was even someone who had inherited the lineage of the Nine Great Sects.

Just like Carl himself, he must have ended up in Artenia due to some incident.

‘That’s why he left a message for those who came after.’

The stele he had found when entering the temple’s chapel had told him to find his sword in the Imperial Palace.

He did not know what it meant.

Had he left something within the sword?

Thunk.

The iron door’s lock was released.

Soon, the door swung wide open, revealing the scene inside.

“…Wow!”

Laysis let out an exclamation.

And for good reason—it was a garden so beautiful it was hard to believe it existed in an underground vault.

‘Like the Peach Blossom Spring.’

Carl also muttered in quiet admiration.

There was an otherworldly mystique about it, as if immortals lived there.

A brook trickled gently through the center, and the ground brimmed with life.

“Up ahead lies the legacy of Creation. Since Creation was a spirit summoner, he made many wondrous things. The Flamera, a flame that never goes out, the Durtanga, a seed that never sprouts, and so on.”

“Waaah…”

Laysis could do nothing but repeatedly marvel.

Everything they passed by was something she had read or heard about at least once in history lessons.

“If one were to choose the greatest museum on the continent, this would be it.”

“Haha, I agree.”

Yulian continued leading them around the vault, introducing relics of heroes stored in various sections.

Some of them even managed to draw admiration from Carl.

Eventually, they arrived before Justice’s section.

“Justice’s legacy is perhaps the most unique among all heroes. He left behind only two kinds of legacies in this land.”

“I cannot imagine what they are.”

Carl tilted his head.

After all, the section marked as Justice’s domain appeared empty.

Smiling at Carl’s puzzled look, Yulian manipulated the wall.

“What Justice left behind were the ‘sword’ and the ‘traces.’”

“The sword and the traces?”

Rumble.

The wall split open, revealing a passage leading somewhere deeper.

Having finished his manipulation, Yulian gestured for them to follow and stepped into the dark cavern.

“…Oh.”

Laysis’s eyes widened at the sight inside the cavern.

Dozens—no, perhaps hundreds—of swords were embedded in the ground.

There were legendary swords whose blades still gleamed even after centuries, and decayed ones on the verge of breaking.

The walls were dim, but marks left from sword training were clearly engraved upon them.

Their styles were not uniform, as if they had been taken from many different places.

While marveling, Laysis tried to take in every detail with her eyes.

“Justice was an unparalleled swordsman. Records say these traces are the realizations he gained while training with the sword. A gifted swordsman could gain inspiration just by looking at… hmm…”

Yulian stopped speaking.

Noticing the sudden silence, Laysis turned her head—

—and saw Carl standing still, staring intently into the empty air.

“…”

Carl’s gaze swept rapidly over the traces engraved in the wall.

It was a sword path that made his fists clench instinctively.

The engravings represented different sword techniques.

The first, starting from the far left, signified the Plum-Blossom Sword Technique of Mount Hua.

It was based on the Mountain Sword, but bloomed in a way reminiscent of a painting of plum blossoms.

The second was the Namgung Family’s Flashing Thunder Sword Technique.

At a glance, it could be mistaken for the Thunder Sword, but the Flashing Thunder Sword surpassed it in speed.

‘It’s not just sword techniques.’

Palm techniques, fist techniques, kicking techniques, footwork—

Traces of various martial arts were scattered throughout.

Calmly tracing them all with his eyes, Carl suddenly came to his senses in the still atmosphere.

He then noticed Yulian and Laysis watching him quietly.

“Did you see something?”

“I was looking at the traces engraved here. I thought I might be able to read something from them.”

“…Remarkable. Truly remarkable. I never thought I would witness that transmission with my own eyes.”

Yulian spoke, suppressing his excitement.

“This place is called the Sword Tomb. I do not know the exact meaning, but records say it was a grave for swords. Justice created this space and left a message for future generations to inherit.”

“…What is it?”

“If someone of the later generations can recognize the sword traces carved into the wall, they are to take one sword from within here and leave with it.”

“Hmm.”

“What did you see in those traces?”

Yulian looked at Carl with eyes gleaming brightly.

It was clear he was eagerly anticipating what Carl would say.

“For reference, I know the answer. It is a tale passed down only to the Imperial family. If you answer correctly, by that tradition, I will allow you to take a sword from here.”

“…”

Had Justice prepared this much and left such an arrangement for those who came after?

Carl thought for a moment, then raised his head and pointed to the trace on the far left.

Laysis grew tense, and Yulian’s anticipation rose.

“A tree in full bloom with flowers.”

“Heooh.”

Yulian let out an exclamation, his mouth opening in genuine admiration, clenching both fists with excitement as if witnessing a scene from legend before his very eyes.

‘It is not such a difficult question.’

They would not have recorded details such as plum blossoms or Mount Hua in Artenia.

So he had described the Plum-Blossom Sword Technique in the most intuitive way possible.

Fortunately, that method was spot-on.

“Carl, I must ask, are you by chance a descendant of a hero?”

“If you trace the Leipzig Family lineage back, there is a hero among our ancestors.”

“So, not one of the Seven Ancient Heroes. Or perhaps the will has been inherited by you. In any case, as a member of the Imperial family, following the hero’s tradition, I will grant you permission to take one sword. I will give you plenty of time, so choose well.”

Carl narrowed his eyes at Yulian’s words.

An arrangement left for the future generations—there was no way it was just any sword.

Or perhaps it was such an exceptional sword that it alone could serve as the arrangement.

“If I choose a sword, does it become mine?”

“Hmm, rather than ownership, it would be closer to a permanent loan. It must be returned here after your death.”

“Ah, I see.”

So that was how it was arranged.

From the Empire’s perspective, it was a shrewd structure.

“Carl, how about this sword?”

The time had come to choose the sword to take out.

Just within the Sword Tomb, there were over a hundred swords.

Counting those outside as well, there would be twice as many.

Which among them should he choose?

“Hmm.”

Carl refrained from answering hastily, weighing the choice with utmost caution.

Seeing this, Yulian nodded.

“I will look around elsewhere. Once you’ve chosen, bring it out.”

“Thank you.”

When both Yulian and Laysis left, Carl sat down in the center of the Sword Tomb, lost in thought.

‘The sword path traces carved into the wall do not hold much meaning. They were likely a filter, meant to select someone from the Central Plains with at least a certain level of skill.’

That meant the real choice came down to which sword he picked.

Clink.

Carl tested by grasping the nearest sword.

…But it was just a sword.

A slightly rusted, poorly maintained, unimpressive blade.

Next, he picked up the splendid sword Laysis had pointed to earlier.

Even at rest, it exuded a sharp aura—while not a divine sword, it was easily worthy of being called a treasured blade.

‘No, this isn’t it either.’

Carl frowned.

It still did not satisfy him.

There were plenty of good swords outside.

If he searched through the Madeira Trading House, he could find dozens of swords better than this.

“I can’t go testing each one by hand…”

It did not seem right to choose in such a manner.

After thinking for a moment, Carl simply sat cross-legged on the spot.

He would entrust the choice to his divine art.

With divine art, he could surely pick out a divine sword of a matching caliber to himself.

Tsuzuzuzuz.

As the Primordial Unity Divine Art was operated, a grayish energy surged throughout his body.

At first, there was no change.

The energy merely circled around him as it normally did during circulation, before being absorbed again through his nose and mouth.

But when Carl began to spread his energy more widely, a strange sensation caught in his mind.

Hummm.

Something was responding to him.

Carl closed his eyes tighter and began searching through the Sword Tomb.

Using the energy of the Primordial Unity Divine Art to form hands, he moved them around, grasping swords here and there.

‘This one? This one?’

He picked up each sword one by one, comparing their qualities.

It was quicker to gauge their level with his art’s energy than with his actual hands.

By the time that number passed thirty, the moment Carl grasped one particular sword—he felt a thrilling sensation race through him.

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