Chapter 223: Fractured Reflections [4]
Spirit Power.
It was an independent energy source distinct from mana, the «Breath of the Old Gods». Unlike mana, It originated directly from an individual's Soul.
While It had unique applications and abilities tied to one's spirituality, it lacked the capability to manipulate the elements or manifest mysterious phenomenon (Magic) into the world.
Of course, Spirit Power could still serve as an energy source to activate skills and authorities. But to manifest mysterious phenomena, it first had to be converted into magic power.
The conversion rate, however, varied from individual-to-individual.
For instance, someone with immense spirituality but an exceptionally low magic potential would experience an abysmally poor conversion rate, making their Spirit Power nearly useless for magical applications.
In simpler terms, that individual wouldn't be able to use magic unless they improved their magic potential.
Much to my dismay, that unfortunate individual was "me."
I had my suspicions, and unfortunately, they were all correct.
I couldn't use magic.
No matter how much I tried to wield that extraordinary power, every attempt ended in failure, including my effort to craft something as simple as a healing magic card.
I thought the problem could be easily solved by consuming enough high-quality elixirs and potions. But a witch, who had ascended to the highest sequences of the Path of Mysteries, shattered my hope with a single sentence:
「 Even if you consumed the «Dragon Heart,» you'd never be able to use magic. 」
Those words utterly destroyed the delusion I had been desperately clinging to.
Even the Dragon Heart, the ultimate magic tool, couldn't offer me salvation.
Was my magic potential truly that pathetic?
I wanted to deny it, but deep down, I knew it was true. The witch had no reason to lie either.
'Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhh! Damn it! What kind of heaven-defying misfortune is this?! Am I really destined to remain a side character like this, forever?! No, even a side character wouldn't suffer this much bad luck! Fuck that! I'm even worse than a bloody extra character!!'
I screamed inwardly and clutched my head, overwhelmed by the heavy weight of that bitter truth.
I felt like I was going to cry.
And honestly, who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want to break down when they were told, in no uncertain terms, that they were basically talentless?
Meanwhile, I could feel the gaze of the Black Witch on me.
She wore the most innocent smile I'd ever seen. It was a smile so serene, so reminiscent of the Virgin Mary, that it felt utterly misplaced on a witch.
It was that smile that broke me further.
The smiling witch tilted her head and said, "[I wonder what kind of sin you committed to deserve such heaven-defying misfortune??]" Read chapters at empire
I grimaced and said, "Please, can we change the subject?"
[Oh, of course! How rude of me. I almost forgot about the game!] Her innocent smile widened, as though she were genuinely excited. "[By the way, which side of the board do you choose?]"
"I'll take black."
[Mmm… are you sure? Wouldn't it be more advantageous for you to pick white?]
"Does it really matter?"
[If you insist.]
Minerva calmly flipped the chessboard, placing the white pieces in front of herself and sliding the black pieces toward me.
In chess, the rules dictated that the white pieces always made the first move, while the black pieces responded in turn.
Having the first move gave you the advantage of predicting the enemy's next steps and controlling the flow of the game. But I had deliberately given up that advantage.
Just because you had the first move doesn't necessarily guarantee your victory.
That so-called advantage could quickly become a disadvantage once your opponent figured out your strategy.
A few seconds later, Minerva moved the pawn in front of her king (e2) two steps forward (e4). At the same time, she said without change in emotion:
[Since you asked me a few questions prior, I'll ask a question of mine.]
"Sure. I don't mind."
[What do you think about the concept of the Soul?]
When I moved the pawn in front of my king (e7) by two steps (e5), I paused to fully process her question.
What an interesting question.
There were countless ways I could answer that, but I decided to take a simpler approach. I responded in the form of a question.
"Isn't the Soul simply the body beyond the vessel?"
[That's not a bad answer, but it's rather outdated.]
"Outdated? Don't tell me you're going to say the Soul is a nonexistent concept?"
[No, no, I'm not foolish enough to say something so imprudent.]
"Then?"
Minerva did not answer immediately. She continued to move her pieces, one by one, placing each with the calculated precision that came from centuries of experience. I couldn't help but wonder what her answer would be. Was she playing some form of mind game?
She placed her knight on f3, setting up her defenses, before looking at me with an unreadable expression.
[The ninth dimensional object you refer to as the Soul is simply the recorder of data.]
I blinked, taken aback. Out of all the possible things she could have said, I wasn't expecting those words.
"So, you're saying the Soul is nothing more than... a storage device?"
[Precisely. The Soul does not hold intrinsic meaning or purpose on its own. It is a collection of experiences, memories, and actions. A living being's entire existence is recorded within it. It is a repository of everything that has been and will be, a reflection of time and space. But it is not bound by them.]
[You can think of it as a blank slate. A blank slate in and of itself has no value, yes? But if you fill it with many wonderful memories, then it no longer remains empty. Its value rises exponentially. The other components of the Soul simply allow the physical vessel to move, perceive, think, feel, and interact with the world in the physical plane.]
[Once the lifespan of an individual expires, the Soul leaves the vessel and enters its spirit form. From there, it either returns to the Eightfold Path or enters the Underworld. The side effect of that process leaves behind residual data in the physical vessel, which can be extracted using Dark Arts.]
Minerva explained calmly after moving yet another piece, capturing one of my pawns. I frowned but kept my focus on her words.
[An example of this would be...]
She flicked her fingers, and a random book from a nearby shelf shot toward us. The ancient tome stopped mid-air, and its pages began to turn of their own accord.
[Take a look.]
The moment my gaze landed on the book, the scenery around me shifted.
Suddenly, I found myself no longer in the study. The familiar surroundings dissolved like smoke, and a new environment unfolded before my eyes.
An unfamiliar forest.
The change was so abrupt that it left me disoriented, as if the stage of a play had changed. The library had vanished, replaced by countless tall trees. The soft rustling of leaves was replaced by the distant sound of a river flowing to the east and the scent of fresh grass in the air.
The chirping of birds echoed in the distance. The sky above was a brilliant shade of blue, untainted by the clouds and there was a mountain in the distance.
"This is..."
[Yes. This is a memory.]
Minerva appeared beside me. This time, she wore a black, elegant dress, and her hair, which had once been long, now only reached her hips.
She held up an umbrella to shield her skin from the bright sun that filtered through the trees.
"Why bring me here?"
[I'll explain in a moment. But first, look over there.]
Minerva pointed ahead, and I followed her gaze.
Swing—! Swing—!
In the heart of the forest stood a man, relentlessly swinging a sword. It was nothing more than the basic downward swing with no target in sight, yet he repeated the motion over and over, showing no signs of slowing down.
As if the only thing that mattered was the sword.
I narrowed my eyes. "Who is that man?"
[His name? I don't remember. It's long faded from my memory. He was just an ordinary knight who survived a war against an opposing kingdom. His country emerged victorious, and he became a war general for his achievements.]
"Sounds like a good story."
[However, when he returned home, he found his house destroyed, his wife killed, and his children slaughtered. Some of the enemy knights had invaded his home during the war, and unfortunately, he wasn't there to protect them.]
Minerva continued with a disinterested voice, almost bored like this was a story she had seen countless times before.
"[Devastated by the loss of his family, he retreated to a nearby forest close to the mountains where he would spend the rest of his days swinging a sword with no aim or purpose, even as his body screamed at him to stop or rest.]"
"[A sword without purpose is meaningless, a sword that cannot kill is useless, and hands that cannot protect are just as cruel.]"
"[Time slowly passed. Even then, he didn't return. Some people were sent to look for him, but they did not find him. In these parts of the forest, bandits used to assault and kidnap passing travelers. But they were all killed by the man's sword. Even as the travelers tried to show their gratitude, the man did not stop.]"
"[Even when he had lost everything, his wife and children, he did not abandon his duty and lived by the sword.]"
"[Soon, his body began to change. He no longer felt tired, hungry, or even the need to sleep. The hands holding the sword no longer felt heavy and became stronger with each swing.]"
"[The years passed, but he did not age. His beards slowly grew, but his appearance did not change. At the same time, his understanding of the sword increased with each day.]"
Minerva paused briefly and then, continued her narration.
"[For a total of ten years, with only little rest, that lonely man would swing the sword and retreat to his private cave at the mountainside. But he soon began to notice he was no longer improving. No matter how many times he swung the sword, his proficiency with the weapon no longer improved.]"
"[The stubborn fool did not stop there and continued swinging the sword. That yielded no further results. Eventually, he fell into despair upon noticing his sword sense did not improve and his sword even became dull.]"
"[He repeated his days in the same motion of sleeping, eating, and, of course, shitting. His life felt truly hollow, and he thought about ending his life several times.]"
"[The day he finally decided to take his own life, he noticed a girl lost in the forest who called out for help. She was a traveler on her way to her homeland and had gotten lost. The two quickly developed a platonic relationship on their journey.]"
"[The man, who had lived in the mountains for ten years, had lost the forest for the first time and stepped into the outside world. The world was no longer at war, and people were no longer carrying out unreasonable bloodshed. It was... peaceful.]"
"[When he completed his objective and reunited the girl with her family, the man realized something that day. While he was trapped in the past, the world had continued to move forward. It was cruelty at its finest, but the man no longer felt despair.]"
"[The beautiful smiles of the people and the peaceful state of the world. He thought they were all worth protecting.]"
I looked back at the man, still swinging his sword relentlessly. "He found purpose again?"
"[Yes. He decided to pick up the sword once more. This time, he wielded it with a new sense of purpose. The sword no longer felt heavy, and his sword sense slowly returned. He swung with more ambition, and the light in his gaze began to shine once more.]
"[He no longer cared if he could improve. As long as he could protect someone else with those hands, that was enough. The weight in his heart was finally lifted, and his beliefs no longer felt fragile.]"
Finally, Minerva's voice softened, almost reverent, as she added,
"[On the last day of that year, he pushed beyond the boundaries of mortality and achieved Transcendence.]"
Transcendence?
By pushing his body past its natural limits through a decade of relentless dedication to swinging his sword? The thought alone sounded absurd.
Was there anyone in Song of Nightmares who had ever achieved such an illogical feat?
'Wait... Could it be?'
My eyes widened.
Indeed, there was someone in Song of Nightmares who had gained Transcendence through such an unimaginable and illogical method. In fact, only one person had ever done so. Their journey formed the foundation of the Path of Transcendence by Heart and Body.
After her grandiose narration, Minerva looked at me with a knowing smile curving her lips and said,
"[This is the story of a man who would later become known as the Sword God.]"