It was a strange sight.
At the very summit of the mountain stood a transparent statue shaped like a person—so clear that you could see right through it.
Nestled in its chest was a fragment of the demon’s grimoire, as if the statue were clutching it tightly to its heart.
As Yuri approached, the hikers nearby warned him.
“Be careful. There’s a dangerous aura here.”
They weren’t exaggerating. The closer he got, the more an invisible pressure stabbed into his body.
But something felt off.
All the black magic Yuri had encountered before was simply malevolent.
Yet the energy here was different.
It was so potent that ordinary people couldn’t get close, but within it lingered an unidentifiable essence—something like pure spiritual energy.
Yuri stared blankly at the statue.
Faintly visible inside were overlapping pieces of parchment, torn straight from the demon’s grimoire, inscribed with the original language of malice.
How could this be?
Around the statue, the perennial snow had melted, and green blades of grass sprouted.
Black magic taints the earth so deeply that not a single blade of grass can grow; the land becomes corrupted and decayed, breeding monsters instead.
Yuri spoke up.
“It’s warm around here.”
“That’s right,” one of the hikers stepped closer, grimacing at the statue’s oppressive aura.
“This is a sacred relic.”
“Excuse me?”
“Though the temple doesn’t officially recognize it, this is said to be the remains of Saint Artem. Of course, if the temple found out, they’d brand us heretics.”
Yuri took a step back for the man’s sake.
“What’s the story behind this?”
“They say Artem sacrificed himself to seal the demon. That’s the demon’s grimoire inside. His body turned to crystal, trapping the demon within forever. Artem became one with the demon, suffering eternally, but thanks to his sacrifice, humanity was saved.”
“Is that true?”
“It’s a legend, but not just a story. There’s proof right here.”
The man sat down and prayed toward the statue. The other hikers set down their packs and joined in.
Yuri stood silently, watching.
With his eyes closed, the man continued.
“The demon was said to possess immense power. Artem was just a humble, kind-hearted coachman, deeply faithful. Yet he alone held back the demon. No matter how thick and strong the darkness, a single genuine ray of light can never be overcome. Before true light, evil retreats like the fading dawn.”
“Yeah…”
Listening quietly, Yuri suddenly asked, “Is this Saint Artem connected to the old tyrant?”
“The tyrant? I don’t know. I’ve never heard that story.”
The man resumed his prayer.
Thanks to the statue’s aura, the summit wasn’t so cold. Some hikers even shed their gear and donned white robes to perform rituals.
Jared approached Yuri.
“That’s the demon’s grimoire, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on here…?”
Jared frowned.
“I don’t know what it is exactly, but it’s potent. Not the usual black magic.”
“Seems like it’s been neutralized.”
Yuri looked back at the statue.
Though transparent and indistinct, its size and proportions were lifelike, as if a real person had been crystallized.
“I need to see it up close.”
“Huh?”
Yuri stepped forward.
Though the pressure had lessened, it was still strong enough that he had to activate his Soul Slash to protect himself.
With one hand resting on the hilt of Guilty at his waist, he moved cautiously.
The statue’s form became clearer.
The idea of a person turned to crystal, holding the demon’s grimoire sealed inside, sounded absurd at first.
But in a world where the impossible kept happening, it wasn’t so strange.
Yuri placed his hand on the statue.
A scorching heat surged up his palm.
He expanded his Soul Realm. The summit’s scenery blazed with a white-hot light, brighter than the snow, and the outlines of objects began to fade.
But one thing did not disappear.
The transparent statue, within the Soul Realm, glowed with vivid colors, occupying the center of his vision.
Small, yet immense.
Faint, yet distinct.
Transparent, yet brilliant.
A being beyond human understanding.
Yet strangely familiar to Yuri.
Chaos.
That was what was here.
As Yuri looked out over the summit through the Soul Realm, he finally began to grasp, however faintly, the nature of the chaos his Soul Slash had touched.
He stepped closer to the statue.
Then, the chaos dwelling within poured into him.
…
Memories from the past flowed in.
They differed slightly from the hikers’ tale.
The demon’s grimoire had wandered the world for ages, sowing chaos. Long ago, a lord obtained a torn piece of parchment from the grimoire and, intoxicated by its malice, ruled with tyranny.
When the lord died, the grimoire sought a new host.
By chance, Artem—the coachman driving the lord’s carriage—became the target.
While tending to the fallen lord inside the carriage, Artem unknowingly touched the parchment, and his mind became tainted.
But he refused to obey the evil voice.
Instead, he journeyed to the most remote place he knew, to keep others away from the parchment.
That place was the summit of Mount Jenel.
Alone, half merged with the demon’s grimoire, he knelt and prayed to the gods.
Countless malices trapped in the grimoire could not break the spirit of the humble coachman Artem.
His mind reached the deepest potential of humanity, and he became the vessel of the seal, forever embracing the demon’s grimoire.
That was how this statue came to be.
Yuri could fully feel Artem’s radiant heart and noble sacrifice.
No matter how dense the grimoire’s evil and malice, darkness can never invade the light.
Artem was living proof.
“Phew…”
Yuri exhaled deeply.
As Artem’s memory faded, something corrupted began to seep from the parchment trapped inside the statue and into Yuri’s body.
Though the intense malice had dissipated, its essence remained.
So Yuri could peer into the true nature of the black magic without difficulty.
He felt as if he understood something.
After observing for a while, he sensed a broad figure appear above his vision.
The Tyrant.
His memories were layered here too. The Tyrant had once touched Artem’s statue atop Mount Jenel and seen what Yuri now saw.
It was the turning point in the Tyrant’s life.
Once obsessed only with strength, the Tyrant experienced a pure heart through Artem’s statue.
Resolved to use his power for good, he rose up to save those suffering under tyranny.
A mere coachman, Artem had stopped the demon’s grimoire and frozen atop Mount Jenel.
But his will had passed through the Tyrant and now reached Yuri.
“Not bad at all.”
Yuri smiled.
The spirit of greatness he’d felt climbing the mountain was rising again.
Sometimes he doubted victory.
The more he learned about the demon’s grimoire, the more he feared he might not be able to stop Cedric.
But not anymore.
The proof of his victory was right here.
“There’s no way I, Yuri Briol, can fail at what this guy accomplished.”
He muttered with a smile.
Then Artem answered.
‘That’s right.’
Yuri’s eyes widened.
The statue of Artem, clutching the parchment, turned its head and looked at him.
Startled, Yuri opened his mouth, then nodded.
By sealing the demon’s grimoire, Artem had touched the realm Yuri called chaos. Anything could happen there.
From the start, what Artem did was a miracle.
Artem spoke again.
‘But you must accomplish something even more important.’
“More important?”
‘I learned about you while holding this. The parchment is connected.’
Now Yuri could see his face clearly.
A young man with a kind smile.
‘This fears you. Through what I hold, I hear their fearful voices. I only managed to seal it, but you must do more.’
Yuri understood.
He was the master of the Soul Slash.
The sword Erich Briol forged could cut through black magic.
‘You must cut the demon’s grimoire.’
“Of course.”
Yuri nodded readily.
“That’s all I ever intended.”
‘Good. Then I can finally rest.’
“Of course. Just a little longer and I will…”
‘I go no further.’
Artem said.
‘So fulfill your duty, Yuri Briol.’
Yuri stood quietly, gazing at Artem’s face, vivid and clear in the heart of the blazing Soul Realm.
His hesitation was brief.
He gripped Guilty tightly.
“Yeah. That’s what I have to do.”
He raised the sword.
The power of the Soul Slash flowed along the blade.
A chilling light spread—the sword’s energy that could cut through soul and heart alike.
Though Artem’s sacrifice had neutralized it, the demon’s grimoire was not destroyed.
If Artem saved the people, then Yuri had to slay that monster.
That was the destiny laid upon him.
“Rest in peace.”
Yuri swung his Guilty sword.
The statue of Artem, once so solid it seemed unbreakable, split cleanly in two with startling ease.
At the same moment, the realm of his soul scattered.
“No, wait—!”
“What is this?!”
“Ah!”
The hikers stared wide-eyed.
Artem’s statue had been cleaved perfectly in half, centered around the demon’s grimoire.
Yet the pieces didn’t crumble or fall to the ground.
Instead, the two halves began to rise together into the air.
Then, they dissolved into a radiant light.
It was as if someone had ground precious gems into dust and scattered them across the sky. With every shift of the sunlight, every color in the world shimmered and danced in turn.
Not a trace of darkness remained.
There was no place for shadow within that light.
“Ah…”
The hikers stood in stunned silence, gazing up at the awe-inspiring sight.
Freed at last, Artem’s spirit looked down from the heavens upon the humans who had reached the summit of Mount Jenel.
“It’s a miracle…”
“Oh my god…!”
“Saint Artem!”
The hikers cried out.
Looking down at Yuri, Artem spoke.
“Thanks to you, I have found peace. Thank you, Yuri Briole.”
His voice was holy, like a divine messenger delivering a revelation.
The hikers bowed deeply, and Yuri just shrugged.
“No need to mention it.”
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
Released from his long bondage, Artem’s soul was now departing for wherever it was meant to go.
Yuri didn’t know what lay beyond. Perhaps there was nothing after death at all.
But even so, he felt no fear.
Just before Artem ascended into the sky, his voice brushed past Yuri’s ear like a whisper.
“The road ahead will be hard. You may even be betrayed by those close to you. Watch your surroundings carefully, and never lose courage until the very end.”