Chapter 292
“Christiaan, no matter who you are, this is dangerous.”
Evan’s voice carried an unusual note of concern.
In truth, back when Evan was heir to a renowned swordsmanship family, Christiaan had once dared to challenge the Land of Warriors that they were now discussing.
The Holy Empire had opened the Land of Warriors to outside allies as well.
Young and reckless, Christiaan had barely lasted before hastily retreating.
But Christiaan shrugged it off casually.
“I’m fine. I can do it.”
He said it because he truly believed it.
Evan frowned, clearly unsettled.
“Why are you always like this…?”
“Like what?”
“…Never mind.”
Christiaan tilted his head in confusion, then looked over at Istanya.
“Anyway, you got that, right? To open the Land of Warriors.”
“…Understood. How long should it be open? Half a day? A full day?”
Almost no one could endure even a day inside.
Because time inside flowed five times faster, half a day outside meant over five days within.
For reference, the longest anyone had ever lasted in the Order’s history was about three days.
Then Christiaan said:
“Ten days.”
“!!”
Everyone’s eyes widened.
That meant fifty days inside.
Christiaan grinned.
“I’ll be back. Meanwhile, I want you to provoke the Demon Sword King just like I said.”
It was time to grow stronger again.
Istanya followed Christiaan’s orders and provoked the Demon Sword King.
First, she made a grand announcement of the birth of a new hero.
Christiaan felt like he’d swallowed something foul again—becoming a hero so indisputably—but there was no choice.
“The Demon Sword King won’t face just anyone.”
Afterward, Istanya sent a formal challenge to the Demon Sword King in the name of the Holy Order.
—In the name of the Holy Order, the hero shall bring down the Demon Sword King.
The duel would be fought with swordsmanship, and if the hero lost, I, the Holy Order’s leader, would personally apologize to the Demon Sword King for the wrongful challenge.
For the Demon Sword King, there was no reason to refuse.
Who in the world could surpass him in swordsmanship?
Only the late Sword Emperor, the greatest swordsman of the alliance, and the Demon King of Silver Snow were exceptions.
Moreover, if he lost, the Holy Order’s leader would bow in apology?
He welcomed the challenge with a hearty laugh.
He even paused his plans to move troops toward the Dark Alliance to accept the duel.
Meanwhile, the Holy Empire was rife with opposition.
A sudden duel? And to entrust it to a hero who had appeared out of nowhere, unknown to anyone?
Naturally, they were skeptical.
But then:
“Have you forgotten what crimes the Demon Sword King has committed against the Order?”
“But…”
“Enough. The Celestial Lord has sent us a new hero for a reason—to punish the Magic Empire. By eliminating the Demon Sword King first, we will fulfill the Celestial Lord’s will.”
Istanya, a nonbeliever, casually invoked the Celestial Lord’s name.
Now that Christiaan had received the Celestial Power, she could blaspheme without hesitation.
“If the hero loses, I will take full responsibility.”
“!!”
That silenced all opposition.
‘Good. This is the perfect chance to oust Istanya.’
The corrupt high priests had elevated Istanya to her position to use her as a puppet.
But she had defied their will at every turn, making them eager to depose her.
On the other hand, there were those who truly supported the plan.
“Long live the Holy Order’s leader!”
“Blood for the Demon Sword King!”
The Demon Sword King had spilled more blood in the Holy Empire than anyone else.
The common priests and the Holy Knights of the combat corps all cheered at the prospect of his downfall.
Especially the appearance of the new hero ignited a fire in their hearts.
“Long live the hero!”
“The Celestial Lord has not abandoned us!”
“Finally, the darkness of the Magic Empire will be driven out!”
Meanwhile, the great hero himself was sprawled out in the Land of Warriors, cursing under his breath.
“Damn it. Why do I have to go through this? Ugh! I want to quit everything! Damn it! Rot in hell!”
By now, a full day had passed outside, and five days inside.
He looked utterly exhausted.
“…Are you really okay?”
Evan asked with a heavy expression.
For context, Evan was Christiaan’s swordsmanship instructor.
He didn’t stay in the Land of Warriors continuously but came and went, teaching in short bursts.
‘Even being here briefly is tough.’
Evan bit his lip hard.
His body couldn’t adjust to the distorted time flow—it felt like it was being twisted inside out.
Not just physically, but the mana flowing through his core, his mental stability, even his soul’s condition were all unstable.
It was a suffocating pressure, worse than falling into the deepest ocean.
‘But Christiaan…?’
Evan bit his lip again, looking at Christiaan lying flat out.
Christiaan must be struggling just as much.
After all, he was human and felt pain like anyone else.
Yet he endured this grueling training out of sheer determination to protect the world.
Every time Evan looked at Christiaan, he felt ashamed of himself.
…Though, to be honest, it was all a misunderstanding.
‘Ah, I hate swinging swords. I’m not one for hard work. I just want to coast along. I want to drink. Drink. Drink. Good meat and alcohol. A life of debauchery. I want to be a rake.’
Christiaan’s real struggle was simply that he hated training—not because of the time distortion.
How?
‘Well, the time distortion isn’t really that hard for me.’
He possessed the rank of a transcendent being.
His soul and mind were incredibly resilient, so even with the altered time flow, he could endure it easily.
‘The body is the only problem, but that can be fixed by “adapting” it.’
Adaptation.
It was an incredible concept.
It meant he had completely recalibrated his body’s reactions and metabolism to match the new time flow.
‘Using the Yi-Sun Qi Gong, I can alter the body’s subtle responses.’
Of course, this kind of adjustment was only possible for Christiaan.
Thanks to that, he felt no real suffering.
‘If I wanted, I could stay much longer than fifty days.’
But he’d only agreed to ten days outside because he couldn’t afford to drag things out.
‘Catching the Demon Sword King isn’t the end of it.’
Christiaan planned to bring the Triangular Alliance to its knees under the Dark Alliance.
Starting with the Demon Sword King, then the Beast King, and the Phantom Lord—all had to be eliminated.
Only then could they subjugate the Demon Sword, the Beast, and the Phantom Magic factions.
‘And before our Dark Alliance’s forces suffer losses in the Four Kings’ territory, we must overthrow the Karn Empire’s royal family and strike at the Four Kings’ rear.’
Thinking that far made Christiaan’s anger flare up, and he sighed.
“Ugh! Why is there so much to do? Damn it! I never wanted to be a hero! I just wanted wealth and glory!”
Seeing Christiaan’s face, Evan misunderstood again and said something unexpected.
“I’ll train here with you.”
“…Huh? It’s going to be tough.”
Christiaan could endure it easily for various reasons, but Evan couldn’t.
Still, Evan looked at Christiaan with burning determination and said firmly:
“I won’t fall behind you. I won’t let you bear the world’s burden alone.”
Inspired by Christiaan’s willingness to endure this terrible hardship for the world, Evan resolved to train alongside him.
Christiaan nodded, a bit dazed.
“Ah… fine. Do as you like.”
And so, the two trained together, growing rapidly.
The Land of Warriors wasn’t just different in time flow—it had drastically different gravity, temperature, and environment.
Harsh beyond measure, but if you could endure it, the training efficiency was unparalleled.
Thanks to Evan’s generous instruction, Christiaan’s swordsmanship improved tremendously in a short time.
But Evan’s growth was even more insane.
‘What a beast.’
Watching Evan train, Christiaan clicked his tongue.
He’d thought Evan wouldn’t last more than a few days, but whatever resolve he’d made, he held on to the end.
His eyes bloodshot, swinging his sword with terrifying intensity.
‘No wonder his swordsmanship improved so fast with that kind of grit.’
Evan even achieved an unbelievable miracle.
‘Maybe it’s time to send him out.’
When Christiaan tried to stop him, Evan said:
“I’m fine… I won’t lose… never… to you…”
His face pale and gaunt, he clenched his teeth at the brink of exhaustion.
“Hey, Evan? Hey? Yo?”
Christiaan called, but Evan didn’t respond.
He had transcended limits and reached a state of selflessness.
Swish!
Evan swung his sword, slicing the air far away.
He had reached the seventh star—the realm of cutting through the laws themselves!
‘Crazy guy. Not some fiery novel protagonist, yet he broke through the seventh star with sheer willpower.’
Christiaan shook his head watching Evan collapse after reaching the seventh star.
‘I can’t lose either.’
In truth, no matter how much special training they did in this sacred place for fifty days, matching the Demon Sword King’s swordsmanship was impossible.
All they could do was narrow the gap as much as possible.
‘The outcome of a duel isn’t always decided by skill alone. If the gap is small enough, there’s a chance for an upset.’
Christiaan thought to himself:
‘I have to reach at least the Sword Master’s level.’
Sword Master.
Unlike other achievements, swordsmanship mastery wasn’t easily defined.
Everyone progressed differently, and their accomplishments varied.
But Christiaan was determined to close the distance—no matter what it took.
There was one thing all those who had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship shared:
They had become the true masters of their swords.
It wasn’t enough to simply wield a blade skillfully; to stand at the summit of swordsmanship, one had to become the sword’s rightful owner—completely in control, one with the weapon.
For reference, Evan’s swordsmanship had already reached this very state.
“Of course, I’m still far from reaching that level myself.”
No, it wasn’t just a matter of being a little short—anyone who had truly attained mastery would probably scoff at the idea.
Chris’s swordsmanship wasn’t lacking. Aside from the absolute top-tier swordsmen, he was among the best.
But becoming a true sword master was a feat no one could guarantee, even after a lifetime of relentless training.
Still.
“I can do this.”
No matter if it seemed possible or not, he had to succeed.
Only by reaching the level of sword master could he stand a chance against the Ghost Sword King.
Chris fastened the bracelet that sealed his energy.
What he needed now was pure, unadulterated mastery of the sword.
Forgetting everything else, he focused solely on the blade.
Swish!
He swung his sword, his consciousness sinking deep into the flow of his technique.
Time passed in an instant, and the moment of the duel drew near.