Chapter 118
Whoosh!

Blue blood splattered from the beasts.

With a roar, the monsters lunged fiercely at Chris.

In an instant, he was surrounded by their attacks, but with blade-sharp instincts, Chris dodged, bled, blocked, and countered each strike.

Every moment was a brush with death.

At the razor’s edge between life and death, his will sharpened endlessly.

But—

“Not enough.”

Chris pondered the question that had haunted him for the past two weeks.

What exactly was the perfect will he sought?

Or rather, fundamentally—

What is will?

He mulled over this elusive image, always just out of reach.

He sensed that no answer would come this way.

“I have to make a move.”

Biting his lip, Chris made an unexpected choice.

He cast off the Cloak of Kusa.

His last lifeline thrown away.

A reckless gamble.

No matter who he was, survival in this situation seemed impossible.

But—

“If I can achieve something before I die, that’s enough. I can do this.”

As he discarded the cloak, Chris felt his will sharpen to an unprecedented edge.

His body moved in ways impossible under normal circumstances.

Amid the splattering blood of the beasts, his consciousness began to sink.

On the precarious boundary of selflessness, he reflected:

“Maybe it’s impossible to define what perfect will even is.”

Meaningless.

With that thought, the will embedded in his Aura Blade began to fade faintly.

Something happened without Chris even realizing it.

Whoosh!

The Aura Blade flashed, and a beast’s arm was severed.

A strange sight.

That beast was a fifth-rank monster with a powerful outer shell, normally impervious even to Chris’s aura.

Yet the cut was clean.

The inexplicable didn’t stop there.

“There is no such thing as perfect will. To be precise…”

Chris unleashed an illusion spell over the beasts.

They screamed.

As if the illusion had taken form and inflicted real pain.

“The form or type of will doesn’t matter.”

Whoosh!

A destructive dark magic flared.

Fire, ice, and lightning intertwined and scattered around.

Yet again, a strange scene unfolded.

Chris had used a low-level destructive dark magic, typically a mere deterrent for second and third-rank foes.

But the beasts staggered, some collapsing or retreating.

As if the spell had been cast at a much higher level.

Chris didn’t notice this phenomenon.

His consciousness was no longer on the beasts.

His gaze sank deep—deep into himself.

“The important thing is who holds that will.”

There are countless kinds of will in the world.

The will to grow stronger.

The will to survive.

The will to protect what’s precious.

And so on.

Ranking these wills is impossible. Worse, it’s meaningless.

What matters is who owns that will.

“Like the state Noga-ju showed during the duel recently.”

Back then, the Nordian bent the laws of existence with sheer will, reflecting the high rank of his being.

It was only possible because the Nordian’s existence had reached such a lofty level.

In other words, the power of will depends on its owner.

“If that’s true, then my will can be perfect. Because I, more than anyone, am the perfect owner of my will.”

An absurd thought.

But not arrogance—an objective fact no one could deny.

No one in this world was superior to Chris.

Then wouldn’t the will he held be more perfect than any other?

Because the will he holds is the manifestation of his very existence.

—I, the master of my will, am vast and self-sustaining; therefore, my will must be perfect.

This was Chris’s answer.

At that moment, an unbelievable miracle occurred.

Chris’s perfect self projected onto his will, merging his identity and will conceptually.

The will, once a mere expression of intent, unified with his self, elevating it to a higher dimension of power.

A sight that would have shocked even the Nordian.

Similar to how the Nordian infused his will with the rank of his existence.

Though the Nordian’s method was far more advanced, the fundamental principle was the same.

Fwoooosh!!!!

A brilliant radiance bloomed from Chris’s sword.

The familiar Aura Blade.

But different from before.

Where once there was imperfection, now a steady, unwavering light shone.

Mid-level fifth rank—Elder Middle Level.

He had reached a state where he could raise aura with will alone, no tricks needed.

Naturally, its power was incomparable to the low-level aura blade he wielded before.

Shing!

The light sliced through a beast’s neck.

Normally, there would have been fierce resistance, but it cut as cleanly as paper.

And that wasn’t all.

Chris sheathed the holy sword and drew another blade.

Flare!

Will poured into the black sword.

Again, shing!

The beast’s outer shell was sliced like paper.

An unbelievable sight.

The beast he cut was a fifth-rank Kelpington.

A monster impervious to physical attacks unless wielded with strong energy, yet Chris cut it with just the black sword.

The meaning was clear.

Chris’s will-infused black sword had gained power rivaling strong energy.

“The Union’s Aura Blade has grown much stronger too. It’s incomparable to the typical mid-level fifth-rank Elder class Aura Blades.”

All thanks to the strength of his will.

“This power will only grow stronger as I grow.”

What Chris had achieved was the unification of will and self.

As his rank rose, so too would the power of his will.

He had successfully laid the foundation for his ultimate goal.

“As a mine, I’m close to upper fourth rank. Though that doesn’t mean much.”

By insight, Chris had already fulfilled the conditions to reach fifth rank.

He just hadn’t yet built up other fundamental elements as a mine, so he remained at fourth rank.

Those were problems that time would solve.

“…Now, for the next step.”

Chris narrowed his eyes.

Was it a feeling?

The surroundings had grown quiet.

The beasts that had been lurking vanished, leaving only an eerie silence.

A chilling tension filled the air.

Clap, clap.

“Well, well, impressive. How on earth did you make your will so strong?”

Sherard appeared, his face bright.

“Especially that aura. Facing it head-on would be tough even with my Blood Steel Energy.”

“…”

“No matter how I think about it, it’s a shame to kill you now. Ah, what to do? I can’t disobey Father’s orders. To send off such an intriguing little brother so soon…”

Sherard wore a regretful, almost pained expression.

Chris scowled in disgust.

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Heh heh. Still, I’m glad this will be a satisfying feast. I’ll have to give it my all. Though I’m not quite used to the will energy yet.”

Will energy.

A chilling word.

Sherard had reached sixth rank.

“Master class, then. Probably low level.”

Though Chris had gained new insight, the gap was insurmountable.

But—

“Doesn’t matter. Today, that guy dies.”

Everything was already prepared.

“Wait. I have something to say. Can you give me some time before we fight?”

“Hmm?”

“Yes, to recover my strength. I’m too exhausted to fight properly. You wouldn’t want to face a weakened me, would you?”

Sherard nodded.

“Fine. I’ll wait as long as you need. Recover to your absolute best.”

Chris sat down and closed his eyes.

Though vulnerable, there was no need to fear a sneak attack from Sherard.

Sherard waited with a relaxed smile as Chris restored his magic and mana.

He even hummed softly, clearly pleased.

Like a child excited for the upcoming feast.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. It’s been ages since I found an opponent this interesting.”

“…”

“So recover fully and entertain me. Hurry, hurry.”

Chris frowned inwardly.

“Shut up. You’re distracting me. Anyway…”

He slowly opened his eyes.

“Good. Looks like he hasn’t caught on to my trick.”

The recovery was just an excuse.

Chris quietly prepared the trap he had secretly laid over the past month.

At last—

“Enough. Let’s begin.”

“Hmm? Don’t need more time? I can wait.”

“Enough.”

Sherard bared his teeth in a grin.

“Good. Honestly, it’s been hard to hold back my desire to kill you. Shall we start?”

With that declaration,

Sherard’s body dissolved into a blood-red mist and vanished.

Instinctively, Chris dodged to the side.

Whoosh!

The mist slammed down where Chris had been.

Sherard reformed, laughing as he reached out.

“Haha! Please entertain me for as long as possible!”

“!!”

Blood droplets blossomed at Sherard’s fingertips.

Each one a Blood Steel Energy attack.

A technique at the upper fifth-rank level, capable of transforming strong energy’s form according to will.

But Chris was no pushover.

Whoosh!

The aura blade embedded in the broken holy sword swept away the droplets of blood, and the blood energy contained within them lost its power and vanished.

The blood energy, unleashed at a five-star upper level, was no match for Chris’s own.

That was how strong the willpower Chris had awakened was.

Sherard grinned.

“As expected, just like I hoped. How long has it been since a fight like this? I like it. Now, how about taking this?”

With a sly smile, Sherard gathered his strength.

His silver hair rippled with a crimson aura.

The surroundings shimmered as if in a heat haze, and Chris felt his stomach churn.

“Blood backflow!”

It was a blood technique that resonated with the opponent’s blood energy to violently disrupt their blood flow.

If you reacted even a moment too late, it was a high-level move that could incapacitate you instantly.

“But that doesn’t apply to me.”

Chris quickly summoned his demonic energy, calming the turbulent blood flow.

Though dozens of areas suffered the backflow, he didn’t miss a single one.

“Excellent response! Good!”

Sherard raised his hand this time.

A crimson aura flared like roaring flames.

“Take this. This one… might be a bit tougher.”

Like a crashing wave, the blood-red flames surged toward Chris.

‘That blood flame is made of strong energy. I can’t face it head-on.’

Just as he tried to dodge, the crimson flames shifted.

They suddenly expanded in front of him, then swirled around like a snake coiling its prey, encircling Chris in a ring of fire.

Surrounded by a wave of potent energy.

Sherard flicked his fingers playfully.