Chapter 133: Legacy of the Iron Fist (2)

What did it truly mean to be called a genius? Was it someone who could master a skill in a single attempt, while others had to practice it thousands, even tens of thousands of times? Or was it someone who could glance at a tangled mess of formulas and instantly arrive at the correct answer? Yes, that too would fall under the realm of genius. But in the end, all that was still something sheer time and effort could overcome.

If a skill could be mastered after countless repetitions, if even the most complex formulas could be broken down step by step until the answer was reached, then was the difference between genius and ordinary people nothing more than a matter of time?

No. I knew better than to think that. I had poured in more time than anyone else, and I had given more effort than anyone could ever imagine. With all that, I had learned one truth: No matter how desperately an ordinary person struggled, they could never even graze the toes of a true genius.

Right now, before my very eyes, a genius was swinging a blazing sword that burned like the sun itself.

She said, “Sun Sword Style Seventh Form—Modified: Radiant Ring Chains.”

Rings of light formed in midair, linking together into luminous chains. Those chains whipped forward, spiraling along the sword’s path, blanketing the surrounding space in a dense lattice of light. It was as if a golden palace, woven entirely from radiance, had been built in the air. The brilliance sent shivers of awe racing down my spine.

What is that? I wondered.

In my previous life, Yuren had never once revealed such a technique. I prided myself on my mastery of the Sun Sword Style, enough to rival anyone, but even I could not create chains of light by linking the rings together like that.

What shocked me even more was that she was doing it while controlling the color of her aura. Yurina’s true aura was a cold, silver light, like moonlight. But whenever she assumed Yuren’s form, she suppressed her mana to shift her aura’s hue into gold. Tediously altering her aura color at every moment was a bothersome task. Yet, she was unleashing such intricate swordplay while maintaining that control.

It was like threading a needle while wearing thick gloves. Granted, Yurina had been changing her aura color since childhood, so the process had become second nature, as natural as breathing. Nevertheless, performing such delicate swordsmanship while controlling aura color was not something just anyone could do; only a true genius could accomplish that.

I clenched my fist as I watched Yurina driving the Guardian back. This was an overwhelming brilliance no ordinary person could ever hope to catch up to. This was the person known as the Last Light, the Yuren Helios I remembered.

No, it was perhaps even more than that. The swordsmanship Yurina displayed now was something even Yuren had never used in my past life. That could only mean one thing. Her genius had already surpassed the level she had once attained in her previous life.

Moreover, she was not alone. My eyes drifted past Yurina, toward Berald, Iris, and Camilla. While they did not shine as brightly as she did, their growth was dazzling all the same.

***

Berald charged at the Guardian, bound by chains of light. He thrust forward with a fist as large as a cauldron lid. “Raaaagh!”

The Guardian swiftly observed him, and its voice rang in the ruins.

[Analyzing Target’s combat pattern.]

[Analysis result: Warrior-class. Specializing in unarmed combat.]

[Response difficulty: medium.]

“A warrior, you say? Nonsense!” Berald shouted.

He suddenly drew back his fist, raised his leg high, and slammed his foot into the ground. “Earth Quake!”

The ground beneath the Guardian caved in with a violent tremor. The Guardian staggered, losing its balance, and Berald pulled back his leg like a ball about to be kicked. He unleashed the Berald Combat Style: Thunder Kick. His foot lashed out with terrifying speed, smashing into the Guardian’s knee. The Guardian’s joint bent at an unnatural angle, and it collapsed with a crash.

Berald heartily laughed down at the fallen Guardian. “See that? Tell me, doesn’t that look just like a mage’s spell?”

Then, sparks erupted around the golem’s body, and a glitching voice rang out.

[Ma… gic?]

[Unable to decode Target’s language pattern.]

[Critical structural damage to lower limbs.]

With the Guardian immobilized and its legs shattered, Camilla dashed in. “Haaah!”

She gripped her claymore with both hands, its blade cloaked in pure white aura, and brought it down in a vicious arc. The Guardian raised its arm, deflecting her strike.

[Analyzing Target’s combat pattern.]

[Analysis result: Warrior-class. Primary weapon: two-handed sword. Attack style: direct, straightforward.]

[Response difficulty: low.]

Camilla winced as she heard the voice echo from the Guardian. “Ugh!”

Once again, her sword had been judged as straightforward. The words of Professor Baldwin during her final evaluation resurfaced in her mind.

“Camilla. Your swordsmanship is too straightforward. It wouldn’t hurt to learn a bit more finesse.”

Camilla hadn’t ignored those words. She had attempted to weave flair and intricacy into her swordplay before. But each time she tried, a memory haunted her. It was the day of the Holy Knight Selection Exam, and the sword she saw up close—the blade of the current fourth-ranked Hero, the Sword of the Holy Empire, Sir Johan Basilio.

Johan Basilio’s sword was also straightforward. It was a pure, honest blade, unadorned by any trickery or ornament. As a child, she had trembled with awe when she witnessed it. She had thought, Someday, I want to become a hero with a sword as righteous as his.

But now, was it something forever out of her reach? Camilla bit her lip hard, tightening her grip on her sword. As she tried to follow Professor Baldwin’s advice and mixed finesse into her blade, a quiet voice reached her.

“You don’t need to force it. Just swing your sword the way you want to. Be yourself,” Dale said.

Camilla glanced back at Dale, snorting. “And what do you know about me to say such things?”

“Well, not much. We’ve only known each other for a few months.”

Indeed, Dale didn’t know much about her. In his past life, she had been caught in the schemes of the Archbishop of Dreams and Fantasies and lost her life before he ever truly got to know her.

Camilla replied, “And yet you presume to—”

Dale looked at Camilla and replied, “Even so, there’s one thing I do know. Other than you, no one in the Holy Empire can inherit the title of Sword of the Holy Empire right now.”

In fact, in Dale’s previous life, after Johan Basilio’s death, no hero had ever taken up that title again.

“So go on. Wield the sword you’ve always dreamed of,” Dale said firmly.

Camilla’s eyes flickered faintly. “Hmph. You certainly know how to make things sound grand.”

She let out a faint smile and turned to Iris. “Milady! Grant me your blessing!”

“Of course!” Iris shouted.

A pure white light surged into Camilla, filling her with vitality. She gathered that overflowing power into her sword. Then once again, she swung her blade, just like the one she had seen in her youth. It was a sword endlessly honest, straight, and unwavering.

The Guardian analyzed her again.

[Target movement detected.]

[Counter-attack protocol activated.]

However, Camilla’s sword split the Guardian’s head clean in two. Sparks burst from the shattered helm, and the Guardian’s movements came to a complete halt.

***

Once they confirmed the Guardian had stopped moving, the party members collapsed onto the ground, as if their strength had finally run out.

“Haah, haah!”

“Phew. I’m tired after fighting all day.”’

“Ugh! I feel the same.”

“Everyone, come here. I’ll cast a spell to help you recover from the fatigue.”

I looked at them and nodded in satisfaction. At first, I had worried this ruin could be too much for their current level. But maybe the reason for this result was my whip, in a manner of speaking. Ever since the Guardian had thoroughly beaten them the first time, they had shown remarkable improvement with every battle.

Every one of them was a genius destined to leave a mark on history. Moreover, their brilliance was blooming even more spectacularly now than it did in my previous life. If geniuses like these were tempered with real experience, it would lead to this unbelievable rate of growth.

I walked over to them and handed out cooled water flasks. “Good work, everyone.”

Yurina reached out to take the flask. “Thanks, I’ll drink—”

However, her hand lacked strength, and she fumbled it. “Ah!”

I caught it quickly before it hit the ground.

Yurina said, “S-sorry. My grip just gave out.”

“Then tilt your head back. I’ll help you.”

“You’ll help me drink?” she asked.

“Yeah. You don’t even have the energy to drink on your own, right?” I replied.

Yurina swallowed nervously. “Ehem. O-okay.”

She tilted her head back slightly. I steadied her head with one hand and gently poured water from the flask. I watched the water trickle into her mouth.

“Refreshing?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

Iris, who had been watching eagerly from the side, raised her hand with sparkling eyes. “Me too! Feed me too!”

“Huh? Iris, you’re a non-combat support, so you should be fine,” I said.

“Wait. Are you seriously saying a healer doesn’t deserve water just because she didn’t swing a sword?”

“My apologies!”

There was an old saying: parties that neglect their support classes never last.

Iris dashed forward and opened her mouth wide. “Hehe. Then hurry up and give me some.”

Suppressing a laugh, I tilted the flask into her mouth like feeding a baby bird.

Iris said, “Haah! So this is… Dale’s holy water.”

“No, it’s not,” I replied.

What the hell is she talking about, this Saintess, I said internally.

“Brother! I need some too. I can’t even move a finger,” Berald shouted.

“Oh really?” I flipped the flask over Berald’s face.

Water poured down mercilessly, and Berald shot up, rubbing his face. “Gah! Pftpfttt!”

“Looks like you can move just fine,” I said.

He pouted. “Ugh, you’re way too harsh with me, aren’t you?”

I only laughed and walked toward the fallen Guardian. Inside its broken frame gleamed a radiant mana stone. “That makes three.”

Not every Guardian held one, but compared to monsters, their drop rate for mana stones was definitely higher. Three high-grade mana stones were probably enough for the offering. So, I nodded as I tucked the mana stones into my pouch.

I turned back to the party. “Well then, since we’ve explored enough of these ruins, how about we head back?”

A week had passed since we started this expedition. After nonstop battles, the party was surely exhausted. It was time to end the expedition.

Maybe it was because he finally believed he would be able to cure his father’s illness soon, Berald rose to his feet, looking more energized than ever.

“Heh! Once we’re back, I’ll host a barbecue feast at my place!” he said. Then he turned toward a direction. “Let’s see… Was the path this way?”

“No, the other side, you idiot,” I replied.

Suddenly, he froze in place. “Wait, Brother. Look over there.”

He pointed to a narrow passage hidden cleverly between two ruin walls. “Doesn’t that look like a path?”

Ah. That place, I thought.

I had also found it once in my past life. It looked suspicious, like it was hiding something, but when I followed it through, there was nothing there.

Before I could say anything, Berald had entered the narrow passage. So, I followed him in.

At its end lay a wide cavern. I spoke an almost-rehearsed sentence. “See? Nothing here— Huh?”

Contrary to my expectations, floating in midair was a gauntlet, radiating a power so extraordinary it was impossible to ignore.

“What the hell is this?” I said in surprise.

Why is that here?

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