The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth-Chapter 291: The Imperial War (2)

“Karyl!!” Kuwell bellowed, his voice quavering with rage.

“Enough.”

But it was Olivurn who intervened, stopping Kuwell in his tracks.

“Please, Sir Kuwell, take care of His Majesty’s body. Today, we shall mourn... The empire will have a period of grieving before we even consider war,” Olivurn said in a somber tone. His voice carried a strange resonance that seemed to quell the raging emotions within those who heard it.

[Something’s not right,] Allen Javius remarked in Karyl’s mind as he observed Olivurn.

What do you mean?

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[He’s using Spirit Language. It’s a certain intonation, imperceivable to humans. Some people are born with it, but we’ll need to confirm if that’s the case with him.]

Karyl glanced at Olivurn, intrigued.

What is Spirit Language? Does it have any specific effects that I should be aware of?

[By itself, it’s not particularly dangerous. It’s somewhere between magic and the occult... It doesn’t cause immediate reactions or results, but the unique intonation creates sound waves that can make the listener feel at ease, or even more inclined to trust the speaker,] Allen explained.

Karyl considered this. The effect wasn’t particularly powerful, especially compared to more immediate and intense techniques, like charm magic or illusions.

[The dragons were the ones who mastered this and elevated it to the level of magic. That’s why their words have power, and that’s what we call Draconic Words. And those words can be used to unleash Draconic Magic. Even though it’s draconic, this type of magic is not fundamentally different from human magic systems. The difference is in the effect,] Allen clarified.

Are you sure? Karyl asked, questioning whether the information could be trusted if it came from the Platinum Dragon.

At that, Allen’s lips curled into a slight smirk.

[If dragons created Draconic Magic, then I was the one who established the human magic system. Once you fully grasp the knowledge I’ve shared with you, no dragon will outmatch you, at least when it comes to the magic system.]

The reason humans couldn’t defeat dragons was due to the vast difference in the amount of mana their species could generate. But Karyl, having surpassed the limits of human evolution thanks to the dragon’s heart, displayed a unique potential to Allen—one that could make him a dragonslayer.

[As I said, Spirit Language is something some people are born with. Its effects can vary, and it goes by many different names.]

Different names? Karyl inquired.

[Yes. During the Magical Era, when magic was at its peak, the Church was also incredibly powerful. If you had to name sorcerers as strong as the Assembly of Seven Elders who dominated that era, you’d have to include the priests of the Church. They, too, were sorcerers in a broader sense.]

Karyl nodded slowly, understanding the connection.

[In the distant past, before magic was systematized, the power of Spirit Language could easily be deified. That’s why humanity sometimes referred to it as the power of the gods, or simply divine power.]

Karyl’s face hardened at the mention of the term. Was it just a simple concern, or was it something more? Upon hearing the word “divine,” Karyl couldn’t help but glance at Olivurn.

Mana and divine power—two forces that seemed mutually exclusive, but in truth, they shared the same origin. Karyl realized that if dragon mana was rooted in elemental power, it stood in opposition to divine power, perhaps making him and others like him fated to be Godslayers.

Of course, the dragons had sided with the gods, leading to the spirits’ devastating defeat in the Great War of the Spirits and Gods.

“...Yes, sir,” Kuwell finally responded. His rage, which had flared so intensely moments ago, subsided almost instantly.

He sheathed his sword and signaled to his disciples and the priests. They proceeded to gather the remains of Titan Shutean, the fallen emperor. Despite the fact that his death had been caused by his own son, no one dared to protest.

“There is much to be done,” Olivurn began, his voice calm yet resonant. “There will be those who come to despise me, but I shall bear all the pain and criticism if it means the people of the empire can live in peace.”

Every time Karyl listened to Olivurn’s words, a sharp, almost painful sensation tugged at his heart. It was as though he could feel the sorrow and burden weighing on Olivurn’s heart, making Karyl’s own emotions resonate in response.

Is this the power of Spirit Language? Karyl wondered.

Perhaps he hadn’t felt this in his previous life because of his lack of mana. But if Olivurn truly possessed such power, wouldn’t he have used it when they had met at the imperial palace? Karyl wondered if this ability could be controlled at will.

[He likely refrained from using it then because he knew you had the power of the spirits,] Ramine chimed in.

Karyl nodded in agreement. Spirit power was one of the few things that could counter divine power, so it made sense that Olivurn would have been cautious.

[Now that he sees you as an enemy, he may be using it openly,] Ramine went on.

Karyl slowly summoned his spirit power in response—an eye for an eye, a provocation for a provocation.

As Duaat’s dark energy enveloped Karyl, he shattered the invisible power of Spirit Language that had surrounded him, as if breaking through a glass barrier.

“Let’s go,” Karyl commanded, to which Israphil and Kay nodded in agreement.

“King of Tatur,” the bishop called out as Karyl turned to leave. “We shall not forget what has transpired today. You have made an enemy of the Church.”

“Don’t spout nonsense,” Karyl retorted with a smirk, turning to glare at the bishop. “You’re just his lackey. I can already tell you’re trying to come up with an excuse to support him.”

Karyl pointed his fingers at both Olivurn and the bishop.

“A period of mourning, huh? You’re good with words. But why don’t you come at me first? I don’t care who it is. If anyone wants to fight, I’m right here.”

“Wha... What?!”

The bishop’s face flushed with anger, his fists trembling. But that was it. After witnessing Karyl’s battle with Kuwell, the bishop didn’t have the courage to challenge him directly.

“Hmph...” Karyl scoffed one last time before turning away.

The priests looked at the bishop for guidance, but seeing his furrowed brow and frustrated expression, they knew there was nothing more they could do.

“...”

Martte MacGovern stood there in silence, watching Karyl’s retreating figure. He glanced down at his hand, the same hand that had blocked his father’s sword. It was still shaking, whether from tension or exhilaration, he couldn’t tell.

Clenching his fist tightly, Martte let out a low sigh, a mix of emotions swirling within him.

***

“That was quite the show, just as you predicted,” Israphil remarked. “To behead the emperor within the Church’s sacred grounds...”

“Well, it was his own son who asked for his head,” Karyl replied, his expression indifferent, as if they had just stepped foot in Heim for the first time. However, the dark smoke rising in the distance served as proof of the battle that had just taken place.

“Do you think it’s alright? Entering the Church’s building like this...?”

“There’s no need to worry. He won’t kill us here. We still have our uses,” Karyl reassured him.

“...Uses?”

Karyl’s lips curled into a knowing smile.

“Olivurn’s next move is obvious. He’ll point to me as the killer of Titan Shutean, and the Church will lend him its strength. He’ll play the role of the son avenging the death of his father, stirring up the people with grief and anger. To do that, he needs a target to deflect any suspicion from himself.”

“...I see.”

Israphil felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of the empire, already a superpower, joining forces with the Church. Their combined strength would be overwhelming.

“But why did you do as the prince wished?” Israphil asked, perplexed. “Wouldn’t it have been better to expose his true nature to the emperor and then use that to undermine him?”

Karyl shook his head in response.

“With Olivurn and the Church already allied, most of the empire’s nobility would naturally side with him rather than the emperor. The only ones who might oppose him are the empress and Prince Luon, but... supporting Olivurn is the better option.”

“Supporting him?” Israphil echoed, confused.

“I’ve played the villain plenty of times before, and I can do it for a little longer. The more Olivurn fights under the banner of justice...” Karyl clenched his fist, then slowly opened it, causing a small flame to flicker and then disappear along his fingers.

“...the bigger the impact when his mask is finally shattered.”

“Being the villain in the eyes of the entire empire... The sheer rebuke and hostility will be unimaginable.”

“It’s fine. Even if I play the villain, you’ll still follow me, won’t you?" Karyl replied, his expression softening into a slight smile. “Look at the bigger picture. The empire isn’t the whole world. We’re not just dealing with one country—we’re dealing with an entire continent.”

Karyl continued, “There are the immigrant tribes, the barbarians, the Immortal Council, and the principality. Let’s see who ends up with more followers—Olivurn or me.”

Israphil’s heart raced at Karyl’s words, drawn to the undeniable charisma in his vision, which was nearly impossible to resist.

“I managed to unite the principality under my banner as a hero after ending their civil war. But unlike the principality, the empire is a single entity where knights pledge their loyalty to one house only,” Karyl explained.

“Even if I killed the prince here, would the empire’s nobles follow me? They’d likely pin the emperor’s death on me too, igniting an even larger war.”

Loyal retainers who had lost their lord would be willing to die for vengeance, leading to even greater chaos. Karyl intended to create a situation where the empire’s talents would have no choice but to follow him.

Betrayed by the Shutean family, the people might be driven to see Karyl, a so-called immigrant, as a savior.

“If Olivurn’s murder of the emperor came to light, along with his ties to the Wooden Cloud and the truth about Prince Kromen’s death...” A sharp smile strayed on his face.

Uniting the continent’s largest power under his banner with minimal damage would be a challenge indeed, but not an impossible one.

“If more than half of humanity follows me, who’s to say what justice really is? Not that I plan on winning by sheer numbers.”

“And what will you do now?” Israphil asked.

“We prepare for war. There’s no need to linger. Get ready to return. Just as Olivurn has allied with the Church, we’ll align ourselves with forces he won’t expect.”

“What forces?” Israphil asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“A capable ally,” Karyl responded with a mysterious smile.

***

“Haa... Haa... Damn it! I'm gonna die here!”

His ragged breathing echoed in the air. The man spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva as he slumped down into a pool of congealing blood. He gazed up at the seemingly endless ceiling.

“This time, it was really close. I almost died for real...” he muttered, his voice echoing in the oppressive darkness that surrounded him.

“Unbelievable... Did he really clear the 20th floor?”

“Among those who haven’t received the rank, this is the highest achievement we’ve ever seen. Even the instructors struggle on the 20th floor.”

“Doesn’t that mean he’s at least a 3rd rank warrior? I don’t know what happened to him after he was sent to the continent, but his skills have improved beyond recognition.”

“He always had potential, even as a child.”

The voices of those watching from above were filled with disbelief as they looked down at the mangled remains of the monsters that littered the floor. These spectators were none other than the elders of the Burning Darkness.

“What do you intend to do now? If he ascends any further, he might actually face the master...”

“Ridiculous! This is a matter of pride for the Eastern Land. We cannot allow a traitor to stand before our master.”

“But it’s the rule, isn’t it? Regardless of allegiance, those who reach the top of the tower have the right to meet the island’s master.”

“Who would have thought he’d get this far...”

They were all frustrated and anxious.

“Don't worry,” a confident voice cut through the tension. “He won’t make it any further. He’s no more than a rat in a trap. No matter how much hope a rat clings to, all that awaits it is despair.”

“Phew...”

Time passed, and eventually, Aidan Hamil, who had been resting against the corpse of a monster, slowly opened his eyes. He shifted slightly before plunging his sword into the side of a massive wolf-like creature lying among the other bodies.

It was an Ein Wolf. While it looked similar to an ordinary wolf, this one had three eyes embedded in its face.

“This one’s not poisonous, at least,” Aidan muttered as he expertly carved off a chunk of the wolf’s meat and began to chew on it. The sight of his eating raw meat seemed oddly natural.

“They said I have to get past this to meet Simon Coden...” Aidan mumbled to himself, staring at the massive door blocking his path.

The door was forged from a special type of steel unique to the Eastern Land—not as strong as Clear Distilled Water, but still nearly impossible to break without the strength of a 2nd rank warrior trained in advanced martial arts.

Normally, anyone who reaches this point would be recognized as a 3rd rank warrior, and the trial would end here. But this door won’t open without the key.

However, this wasn’t a trial to become a member of the Burning Darkness’ leadership; it was something far more personal. Aidan knew the elders, who were likely watching him from somewhere, wouldn’t simply open the door for him.

“Hmm...”

Aidan stood before the door, deep in thought.

Tap—

Finally, he seemed to reach a conclusion. Nodding to himself, he clapped his hands together and muttered to himself, “I guess I’ll just break it down.”