The Son of Sin and Punishment.
Ismael, the Great Warrior of Condemnation and the human closest to one of the Seven Chief Gods, could not comprehend the reality unfolding before her eyes.
“Ah…”
She had been cut.
Caravan’s sword had actually touched her.
It was an impossibility.
“……How?”
At this moment, Ismael’s lowly flesh was a vessel for a Great Chief God. This was made possible through the glorious authority granted only to the Great Warriors of God: Descent.
A mere blade of the Mortal Realm cannot harm me as I am now. Is the sword Caravan holds a Sacred Relic? No… even if it were, I feel no divine energy from it.
She couldn’t accept it.
No matter how peerless one’s skill, a being of the Mortal Realm could never harm the current Ismael. Descent was fundamentally different from simple authorities that merely boosted physical attributes or allowed one to wield destructive power. Descent literally meant housing a Great Chief God within one’s body. For the duration of the Descent, the Great Warrior was no different from a being of the high Heavens.
And a being of the Mortal Realm can never harm a being of Heaven.
This…… defies the very laws of the world.
Heaven was a higher dimension than the Mortal Realm.
According to the laws of existence, the Mortal Realm cannot interfere with Heaven. It was like the relationship between a painting on a canvas and the painter. The painter can swing their brush to paint whatever they wish, and they can just as easily destroy what has already been drawn. But the painting within the canvas is helpless. Trapped within its two-dimensional world, it can only accept the brush the painter wields. The painting cannot step outside the canvas, nor can it interfere with the painter’s hand.
The beings of Heaven—the Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses—were the painters who crafted the world and fate. All spiritual worlds, including the Mortal Realm, were their canvases. No painting can ever break through its canvas. Just as a painting is confined to a flat plane, an insurmountable wall exists between the beings of Heaven and those beneath them.
That was the law of the world.
Through Descent, Ismael had briefly become a heavenly being—an existence that should be beyond the reach of any mortal interference.
However.
“What kind of trick did you use?”
She had been cut.
She had been wounded by a mere piece of sharpened metal. A sword that should never have reached her had struck home.
“Answer me.”
Ismael glared at Caravan. A faint light shimmered around him as he stood composed, sword in hand. Like the cold glint of a perfectly honed blade, an aura of sharpness radiated from him—so keen it felt as if one might be cut just by looking at him. It made her wonder if the man before her was truly human.
“…….”
Ismael examined her body.
The sword mark left by Caravan’s blade did not fade. No matter how much authority and blessing she channeled, the wound refused to regenerate. It was as if space itself had been gouged out. As a terrible pain surged through her entire body, Ismael recalled the words she had once heard from the God she served.
「Ismael, my Great Warrior.」
A revelation.
「One day, a being will appear on this land who will disrupt the order of Heaven. A being who will twist the laws of the world with indifference, despise the Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses, and ultimately lead your continent to ruin.」
.
.
.
「That being’s wicked power will pollute your faith and cause even our brilliance to lose its luster. That being is a sin that should never have been born, the embodiment of the most terrible hatred, and a darkness that shall never be forgiven.」
Perhaps it was a revelation that every Great Warrior of God had heard.
「The Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses, including myself, whom you serve—all of us lost our omnipotence to that being’s blade in the distant past. Therefore, bear this in mind, my Ismael. If that wicked being ever appears, judge him with your own hands. Cast the sinner who deserves eternal punishment into Hell.」
.
.
.
「Only then shall we regain the omnipotence we possessed during the days of Genesis. The Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses, having regained their absolute power, shall save you and lead you to Paradise.」
In this moment, Ismael finally understood what her God had meant.
「Remember.」
The being who twists the laws of the world with indifference. The being who despises the Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses. The sin that should never have been born, polluting the faith. The blade that can make even the brilliance of God lose its luster.
「That being’s name is Caravan.」
The words spoken by the Son of Sin and Punishment were no exaggeration. Ismael was feeling it firsthand. Caravan’s sword reached Heaven. Though it was still unstable and might not yet threaten the Gods themselves, it would surely be forged sharp enough to be aimed at the heavenly beings one day. And the moment that day arrived, the order of Heaven would collapse.
Having reached that conclusion, Ismael looked at Caravan’s sword. Now, she finally understood why God had issued those warnings, and why this being had to be erased from existence.
Caravan’s sword reaches the Seven Chief Gods and the Nine Goddesses.
Such a being must not exist.
He must disappear.
He must be eliminated.
Right here, even if I must sacrifice my very life.
* * *
The strength drained from my body.
I was reminded of the past—the same exhaustion I felt when I first started learning the sword, when I would run through the abandoned estate all day with my weak, pathetic body. That sensation of a metallic, sweet taste in my mouth and my vision turning yellow. It had been a long time.
The recoil is severe.
As I gasped for breath, Liam spoke.
「Polished Light is a power that focuses entirely on a momentary flash.」
“Whew, haa…”
「Exhaustion is natural. In the first place, you likely don’t realize what it means for you, as you are now, to be able to oppose the power of Heaven, young descendant.」
It took immense concentration just to keep from dropping my sword.
While every muscle in my body screamed, Ismael stood there blankly, glaring at me. That old hag—does she still have strength left? I really wish she’d just call it a day and go home.
Let’s just stop. I’m exhausted.
Exhaling sharply, I didn’t take my eyes off her.
Soon, Liam spoke again.
「You may be tired, but do not let your concentration slip.」
“…….”
「This will not end like this. Never.」
Dammit.
「The Third Steel, Polished Light, is the sword that proves Caravan’s blade can reach the sky. And if she is a Great Warrior of Condemnation fanatically obsessed with her God…… she will never back down. She will try to kill you even if she has to burn her own life away. Those people were the type who wouldn’t hesitate to do anything once they lost their heads, even back in the Age of War.」
“……She’s a persistent woman,” I replied jokingly, but I wasn’t feeling playful.
She was an opponent difficult to handle even at full strength. And now I had to fight a second round after draining my stamina to the bottom? It shouldn’t be possible.
Well, even so—
“Whew.”
When had I ever only done things that were possible?
“……!”
The back of my neck went cold.
The moment I felt that chill, I rolled across the ground. With a thud, a cross slammed down where I had been standing. Ismael was trying to keep fighting despite her fatal wound. My condition was a mess, but hers was likely the same. I adjusted my grip on my sword.
Just as I was about to kick off the ground and charge—
“Hup!”
A cross manifested right before my eyes.
It was a different method of attack. Instead of falling from above, the cross was generated directly in front of me. Its power was lower than a vertical drop, but it was much harder to dodge. No, it wasn’t just hard; it was impossible. I quickly raised my sword into a defensive stance, but my timing was slightly off. With a metallic clang, I was blown back. The impact was enormous, feeling as if I had caught a boulder fired from a siege catapult with my bare hands.
Coughing up blood, I flew back a considerable distance. When I looked up, the gap between us had widened significantly. Curse it.
The more the distance grows, the more I’m at a disadvantage.
Ismael’s combat style was simple yet overwhelming. If there had been even three or four Holy Knights protecting her, I would have been dead long ago. Biting my lower lip, I focused. I ran along the path like an acrobat. My steel wings fluttered, and in a world resembling hell, I sprinted, sword in hand, dodging the falling crosses.
Because she saw the authority of Liberation, she isn’t trying to bind me anymore.
She must have guessed how that power works. Another cross slammed down with a thud. I narrowly evaded it, but in that instant, the positions of the cross and Ismael swapped.
Oh, no…….
It happened while I was in the middle of a large evasive maneuver. With my guard completely down, Ismael’s palm lunged toward me. Seeing it, I immediately discarded the sword in my hand. As the blade fell, I drew the dagger tucked near my thigh and stabbed straight for Ismael’s throat. Like a predator sinking its fangs in.
However.
“That power. It seems you cannot use it continuously.”
The dagger failed to reach her. The tip clearly pierced through Ismael’s neck, but there was no sensation of impact. It felt like stabbing an illusion—a sense of disconnect, as if I had slashed at a shimmering mist.
“What a relief.”
Thud. Ismael’s outstretched hand gripped my throat and lifted me off the ground. It was a monstrous strength that didn’t match her appearance as an old woman. I tried to slash her wrist with the dagger, but once again, the blade passed through her as if cutting air. I couldn’t even touch her, yet she could grab me as she pleased.
“Because you are still an insignificant being.”
The Flame of Doubt didn’t work either.
My master was right. The Flame of Doubt simply passed through Ismael. It was like throwing an ember into empty space. As I struggled, the grip tightening around my neck grew increasingly powerful.
「Did I not tell you it wouldn’t work?」
“……Ugh.”
「Tsk, that damn doubt of yours. You won’t believe it until you see it with your own eyes.」
I was suffocating.
As my vision began to fade to black, I saw it on Ismael’s body. Her flesh was melting away, starting from the sword mark I had carved. The wound did not fade; it was consuming her like mold. I forced out a breath and squeezed out the words.
“Don’t…… do this…… go back…… and get treated. Aren’t you…… a precious Great Warrior? At this rate…… we’ll die together. If you disappear…… the Crusader Order…… will suffer.”
“Even if I die, a new Great Warrior will appear. God will choose the one He loves most after me. As long as the Crusader Order does not perish, a Great Warrior will be born eternally.”
“…….”
“I am satisfied if I can nip you in the bud here, Caravan.”
Crackle.
Breaking through my superhuman strength, Ismael’s grip tightened as if she were about to snap my neck. Feeling death approach, I glanced down. The sword I had dropped was stuck in the ground.
“Come with me, O Sin.”
Don’t make me laugh.
“Go? Where…… do you think you’re going?”
I kicked my legs and lifted them high. Then, with all my might, I stomped down on the pommel of the sword stuck in the ground. With my sole in contact with the blade, I triggered one of Gaia’s authorities. The next moment, the sword flashed with light, and the ground began to rumble and collapse.
“……?!”
Ismael’s eyes wavered.
As the ground gave way, her balance broke, and the hands strangling my neck finally fell away.
If I doubted, I also prepared a countermeasure.
No attack except Polished Light worked on Ismael. But that only applied to her physical body. Combat isn’t fought with weapons and bodies alone. The targets of doubt include the surrounding environment. I have to use every weapon available.
Just as Ismael said. Because I am still insignificant.
“The arrogant Caravan…… using such a trick?”
Ismael’s body swayed as the collapsing ground swallowed her. Perhaps the ‘Caravan’ she knew was the image of a steadfast knight from a chivalric novel—a competitor who fights fairly and decides the outcome only through strength against strength. Maybe that was the original ‘Caravan.’ I could never imagine my master fighting the way I do.
However.
“There’s no way this is Caravan’s way…….”
“Yeah, it’s not Caravan’s way.”
For a certain insignificant boy, such an option never existed. There is no such thing as a glorious defeat. For me, a single defeat meant the loss of everything. The only thing that mattered was victory.
“This is my way.”
The ground crumbles.
The hellish world created by Ismael’s crosses disappears, and the blood-red sky regains its original light. I see Ismael falling endlessly, pulled by gravity. Looking down at her, I spread my wings and inhaled until my chest felt like it would burst. As my heart thudded, a tremor ran through my entire body. A stinging heat spread from my heart, heating me from head to toe. A fire spread in my chest. A single lantern.
『How happy was the age when one could look at the starry firmament and read the map of the path one could and must travel? And how happy was the age when the starlight illuminated that path so clearly?』
I squeezed out the last of my stamina.
In that fleeting moment, I crossed the wall. The blue sky became a starry firmament, and beneath that firmament, I became a burning lantern. The handful of mana I had left flared up like an explosion. Tak. I snatched my spinning sword from a gap in the crumbling ground. The moment I caught it, the exploding mana was concentrated into the blade.
“Sin and punishment are important.”
The moment I swept my hand over the blade, the compressed mana made the sword shine.
“A world where sinners are not punished is wrong. If sinners live in luxury while the good are persecuted, no one will perform good deeds. In a world where people do not help each other, only the sobs of the wronged will echo. Just as a certain boy cried alone in an abandoned estate on the outskirts of the Iron Kingdom, after everyone had left.”
“…….”
“But for what do sin and punishment exist? Punishment is a means to eliminate sin. The reason sin must be eliminated is to protect the weak who suffer unjustly. So that the small and weak do not meet a pitiful end, so that those who are still mere sprouts do not vanish before they can bloom, so that this world does not turn in an unacceptably wrong direction—it is to protect the lowest of things.”
A sword light so bright it could blind exploded.
“Sin and punishment are important. But doubt is also important. If you do not doubt yourself, if you do not doubt your own actions, you will become buried in the means called sin and punishment and lose your original purpose. Like you are now. Like the Crusader Order that tramples the Southern Continent.”
Once more, Polished Light was completed.
“So, go to the next world alone.”
I lowered my stance in mid-air.
Stepping on the debris of the falling ground, I took a drawing stance. The surrounding air shimmered due to the highly compressed mana. Beyond the shimmering air, a single line was clearly visible—a perfect line that bisected the world falling into chaos. That line was like a comet or a beam of light, wavering like a burning flame. I knew its name.
“Phew—”
The Hero’s Path.
“Hup!”
My wings fluttered powerfully as I ran through the frozen world. Ismael was at the end of the path, and when the sprint fueled by my last bit of strength ended, Ismael’s body was cleanly severed. Her upper and lower body were separated at the waist. With that, the sword lost its light, and I too lost consciousness. As my mind faded into black, I fell, pulled by gravity. Down, far down.
* * *
“We have arrived!”
The port city of Vicente. A famous spot on the Southern Continent known for its beautiful beaches.
Amidst the breaking waves, a large ship docked at the harbor. There weren’t many passengers. A sailor watched an old man walking leisurely as he helped the passengers disembark. The old man was blind, but strangely, he was walking alone without a cane or a guide. It was as if he could see perfectly. The sailor approached him.
“Can you walk alone, elder? Shall I help you?”
“Thank you for your kindness. But I am fine.”
“It might be dangerous…….”
“Living in this harsh world is always dangerous. If so, instead of supporting my steps, would you tell me the way? Which direction should I head to enter the center of Vicente from here?”
“North. Just keep going north.”
The old man was peculiar. He had a relaxed attitude and a leisurely way of speaking, like someone who had attained enlightenment.
“Thank you.”
The old man bowed his head slightly and then brought his hands together in prayer. Then, with a benevolent smile, he spoke in a soft voice.
“May the Eternal Day be with you.”
What escaped his mouth was a monk’s greeting.
As the old man moved his feet, men clad in worn cloth followed behind him. Their bodies were covered only by a single humble piece of fabric, revealing muscles woven as densely as steel. Their eyes were as clear as spring water.
“May the Eternal Day be with you.”
“May the Eternal Day be with you.”
Every single one of the men left after politely greeting the sailor. The sailor stood blankly, staring at their backs. Every person who had just passed by was a monk. Leading the monks, who clearly possessed terrifying physiques, was a blind old monk. The moment that phrase came to mind, the sailor realized the identity of the old man.
“……May the Eternal Day be with you.”
While everyone bled beneath the cross, the Great Warrior of the Sun had returned.
The greatest monk, Butcher.
