EP.231 Trial of the Holy Grail (5)
Shadow Dragon Sorcerer, Belial.
The man introduced himself like that.
Belnoa squinted, looking at the man. Shadows were rising over the man’s arms, adorned with tattoos resembling a dragon’s form.
‘…Shadow Sorcery?’
A clear sign of shadow sorcery.
But it was different from the shadow sorcery that Belnoa knew. It had a different orientation than the sorcery used by the Demon Lord’s Army on the battlefield.
Different, alien.
Belnoa narrowed his eyes a bit more.
That strange sorcery was one thing, but there was something else that bothered him. Belnoa opened his mouth.
“…You said your name is Belial?”
“Yeah. Do you know my name?”
Of course, he knew.
No one could claim ignorance of the name of a being that had reigned as a disaster over the kingdom for centuries.
“It’s my first time meeting you here, but I’ve heard of the name Belial.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’ve heard it in a good way.”
Belnoa nodded.
“The Black Tempest, Belial the Black Dragon.”
With a single flap of his wings, he could overturn the battlefield, and the flames he spewed could turn even a blessed fortress to ashes.
“…I expected that.”
At Belnoa’s words, Belial smiled bitterly.
“Looks like things have gone in the worst direction. After all, the very fact that I’m meeting you here means… things have gotten tangled up pretty badly.”
He murmured as he began to walk. Squelch, his footsteps left marks in the sand of the desert.
“Boy, did you say Belial the Black Dragon?”
“Yes. The one who reigns as a disaster in history…”
“Disaster, disaster.”
Belial’s eyes narrowed.
“Did that Black Dragon kill people? No, it’s a question that doesn’t even need to be asked, I suppose. It’s called a disaster because it killed people.”
It wasn’t just about killing people.
It burned countries and created countless ruins over centuries. That’s why the Black Dragon reigned as a disaster.
Numerous tales he had seen in history books came to mind, but Belnoa didn’t dare to speak them out loud. He felt an instinct telling him not to.
Instead, he spoke of something else.
“Do you have a connection to the Black Dragon?”
“I do. That’s part of ■■■■■■■■…”
Belial frowned mid-sentence.
“Hmm?”
He rubbed the back of his neck a few times, looked up at the sky, then chuckled softly.
“What a troublesome situation.”
As Belial muttered, he lowered his gaze.
“It seems I can’t share that story with you right now. Maybe if you can overcome my trial, though.”
“…Trial?”
Belnoa blinked.
Trial, thinking back, he had been undergoing the trial of the Holy Grail. He had naturally thought that Professor Rania would appear and had been tense, but…
‘The one who appeared is that man.’
A mysterious man who called himself Belial.
A sorcerer wielding a form of sorcery that was both similar and different to his own.
“So.”
He opened his mouth.
“This is inside the Holy Grail, right? I made a promise with that ■■■ guy. Hmm, you must have learned shadow sorcery from ‘someone’?”
He pointed to the shadow armor wrapped around Belnoa’s arm. Belnoa slowly nodded.
“I do handle shadow sorcery.”
“Seems you’ve used it quite a bit. Since you’ve reached the level of wrapping shadows around your body… you seem to have quite a bit of talent. Good, I really like it.”
Thud.
Belial stops before Belnoa.
Belnoa looked up at the man standing in front of him. He felt a chill run down his spine as he faced him closely, which he had sensed from a distance.
He was strong.
An incredibly powerful being.
Just standing there, Belnoa felt as if a gigantic wall was pressing down on him. His breath became shallow, and his fingertips trembled.
“Boy.”
The wall posed a question to him.
“To challenge the trial of the Holy Grail means you have a reason to move forward, right?”
A reason to move forward.
“For conviction, for salvation, to achieve an achievement…”
If none of those apply.
“To protect someone.”
Belnoa nodded absentmindedly at the last statement. If there was a reason he had to grow stronger, it was to protect Chloe.
“Good. I really like that.”
Belial burst into a hearty laugh, as if satisfied with the answer. He patted Belnoa’s shoulder a couple of times with his thick hand.
‘What power…!’
Though it might have been light in Belial’s perspective, Belnoa felt as if his shoulder might dislocate from the impact.
‘Something… feels weird.’
Looking at Belial, who was patting his shoulder, Belnoa felt a sense of unease. The opponent he faced was undeniably powerful. The man before him could end him with just a casual flick of his hand.
Yet for some reason.
‘I don’t feel scared.’
There was instinctive fear.
There was the pressure one feels in the presence of a strong individual.
However, Belnoa did not feel psychological fear toward the man before him. It felt like there was a strong certainty that he wouldn’t harm him ‘no matter what happened’.
Groundless certainty.
Yet, it was a certainty without doubt.
It felt strange.
As Belnoa pondered such thoughts, Belial spoke up.
“Boy, what’s your name?”
“Belnoa.”
“Right, Belnoa.”
Belial exhaled shortly.
“Seeing that you’ve reached the level of shadow armor, it seems you’ve attained quite a high level. At your age, being at that level means you must have made enough effort without relying solely on talent. But…”
Belial’s eyes narrowed. His narrowed gaze resembled that of a beast.
“You seem to be in a state of stagnation.”
State of stagnation.
At those words, Belnoa caught his breath.
It was indeed true.
In terms of shadow armor, Belnoa hadn’t progressed to the next form. Even when he asked Cardi-sir, he only said that the next form required a ‘trigger’.
“To move on, you need a trigger. And, I can help with that.”
Belial looked around casually. Observing the vast desert, he stroked his chin. Cracks had already started to appear in the sands.
“Have I reached my limit from the moment I was recreated? Hmm, with that alone, I guess just enduring is the best I can do.”
He mumbled as he raised his arms.
“Offering.”
He murmured shortly.
The moment the power imbued in the language was released, tsssh, Belial’s skin began to peel away. The flesh on his arms shed, replaced by something else.
‘…Scales?’
Something glimmering black.
The shadow scales, made of shadows, possessed a form far more stable than Belnoa’s shadow armor.
Stretching out arms.
The shadow scales that enveloped his arms.
Shadows rose above it. Not the sticky shadows like Belnoa’s, but sharp shadows finely ground like beast claws.
“You’re misusing shadow sorcery.”
The wind began to blow across the desert.
“Break the limits of thought. Crush the limits of the body. Sorcery is a tool for that. By offering your flesh, it is a means to gain strength beyond the flesh.”
Sand scattered.
“Sorcery is to desire. The shadows crystallize what you desire into form.”
The winds grew stronger.
“What you invoke is the existence of perfect form.”
The ancient dragons that once existed on this land.
“With a single flap of wings sweeping over the area and a single breath burning the earth and sky… complete existences.”
Crunch, crunch.
With a loud sound, Belial’s arms expanded. The arms enshrouded in shadows momentarily took on the shape of a dragon.
“Watch closely, boy.”
He chuckled.
“I’ll show you.”
Beastly arms.
Claws of the dragons that once scraped the skies.
“What shadow dragon sorcery is.”
He swung his arm.
The claws of the dragon, present in the human form, scraped the sky. As the claws carved their path, the wind surged in. A raging storm was created by the swirling breeze.
Kagagagagak!
A storm surged.
The winds created by the dragon’s claws engulfed the area. The shadows mixed in with the wind painted the storm black.
Sand scattered in all directions, crushed by the rushing winds. The black storm, capable of grinding even the sand to dust, seemed to erase everything it touched and return it to nothing.
In a place where not even a breeze blew, a storm that swallowed everything appeared in an instant.
“…Ah.”
Belnoa gazed wide-eyed at the raging storm. Then, he turned to look at Belial, who had created the storm with a single swing.
“Remember well what you just saw, boy.”
Belial smiled.
“Next time we meet, I hope you can experience a complete trial. As you grow in level, the burden of the trial will also increase.”
Crumble.
The space created by the Holy Grail began to crumble. Faced with something it could not handle, the Holy Grail chose to destroy the space for its own protection.
And even as the trial crumbled, Belnoa gazed at Belial standing alone in the desert.
Standing at the center of the raging storm, he looked at the smiling sorcerer and involuntarily recalled.
—The epithet attached to the Black Dragon, Belial.
‘The Black Tempest.’
The moment Belnoa realized the meaning of that epithet.
2.
Crack!
With the sound of space shattering, Belnoa was flung out of the trial. He landed on the ground and hurriedly raised his head.
“Hah, hah…!”
Suddenly exhaling the breath he had been holding, Belnoa pressed his hand against his chest. His heart was racing.
‘What… did I just see?’
What he had seen was shadow sorcery.
However, it was a type of sorcery entirely different from what he knew. In the first place, Belnoa had no idea such actions were even possible with sorcery.
Offering part of his flesh to evoke shadows, strengthening them, and solidifying them into form.
That was the shadow sorcery Belnoa knew.
‘But, what that person used a moment ago…’
Offering flesh.
Replacing the offered flesh with shadows.
‘The broken flesh was immediately restored by the shadows.’
The process was seamless, with no losses whatsoever. As if that was the right way to do things.
“You are misusing shadow sorcery.”
He had no choice but to admit that remark.
Furthermore, he felt that he could see the direction he needed to go.
It felt as if his eyes had been opened just by seeing it once.
Thump.
Just as Belnoa was about to reminisce about what he had just witnessed, someone grabbed his shoulder.
“Belnoa.”
It was Professor Rania.
Belnoa blinked and looked up.
“What the heck did you do in there?”
“…Huh?”
“No, it’s you, but…”
She pointed to a corner of the forest.
There was a water puddle where Lac had jumped in.
“Lac, what on earth is he doing?”
The very puddle Lac had jumped into.
The space was twisted around that spot where starlight pooled. Creak, creak it emitted sounds as the space continued to twist.
It looked as if it was trying to forcibly hold the space together.
“Didn’t you meet me? Even if you traded your lifespan for that, I can’t do such a thing…”
While Rania was in great confusion, Lac’s trial was still ongoing.
3.
“Looks like I chose the wrong time to challenge the trial.”
The knight’s voice echoed through the gorge.
“It’s true you faced a wall. However, the depth is shallow. You’ve just entered the threshold. It seems the trial is still too early for you.”
Lying on the ground, Lac was gasping for breath. He bore no visible wounds, yet he had trouble standing up.
‘What… was that?’
The knight’s words told him to charge wielding a weapon.
At that moment, Lac had charged with all his might wielding his axe. The knight didn’t even swing his sword. Just the instant when the light flashed behind the helmet.
Lac dropped his axe.
He fell to the ground in a humiliating manner.
The moment their eyes met, Lac experienced the illusion of his entire being being shredded into tiny pieces. And in that moment, his will completely crumbled. He couldn’t muster the courage to take up the challenge.
He couldn’t even stand up.
There were no wounds left, but it was as if the tendons in his body had been severed, leaving him powerless.
The knight looking down at Lac let out a short breath.
“You lack willpower.”
He spoke while lowering his sword.
“If you’re a child of Grace, you should have learned about willpower, right? You lack willpower. Your resolve is insufficient.”
There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“I have no intention of swinging my sword at a warrior who has dropped his weapon. It seems it’s still too early for you.”
The knight turned to leave.
Lac gazed at the knight’s receding figure. The knight murmured as he walked away.
“Pat yourself on the back for gaining the will of a warrior, then challenge again. You currently have no worth in wielding a sword.”
No worth even in wielding a sword.
An individual without the will of a warrior.
The knight’s words insulted Lac’s pride as a warrior, making him frown. Lac gritted his teeth. He glared at the knight’s retreating figure, his eyes wide open.
“Do not tolerate such insults.”
“Especially disrespecting the pride of a warrior.”
The words he’d heard from warriors echoed in Lac’s ears.
Clenching his teeth, Lac extended his arm. His trembling fingers touched the handle of the axe he had dropped. With the axe handle gripped tightly, Lac summoned strength to his body.
Crack, crack.
His fallen will and stopped body were forcibly raised. The blood vessels in his eyes burst, tinting his vision red, and the nosebleed that had dripped down marked the ground with crimson spots.
“Grrrgh…!”
He whipped his body, which was reluctant to move.
He pulled together his shattered will and ignited it.
Thwack.
Clutching his axe, Lac stood up. He stood on his own two feet and hurled the axe with all his might towards the retreating knight.
Whoosh!
The axe sliced through the air, caught effortlessly by the knight without even looking back. The knight, grasping the axe, paused his steps and slowly turned to face Lac.
“Impressive.”
The knight smiled faintly.
“You’re no one without pride.”
Once again, the knight raised his sword.
At that moment, ripples spread around him.
The trial had reached its limit just by summoning the existence of Ganikalt. As the Holy Grail reached its limit, signs of it trying to collapse the space began to emerge throughout the canyon.
The ground cracked.
The sky was about to split.
Just then, as the Holy Grail attempted to forcibly end the trial, Ganikalt narrowed his eyes.
“The immature warrior displays his pride. A human who has shaken off his fear reveals his resolve.”
He swung his sword lightly.
The swing distorted space, forcibly reconnecting the cracks that were about to tear apart.
“Therefore, the trial must continue.”
While holding the space together, Ganikalt turned to face Lac. Though his mouth was concealed by his helmet, Lac felt for some reason that the knight was smiling.
“An immature child who knows pride.”
The knight extended his left hand, pointing at Lac.
“I will ask you.”
Ganikalt van Galatrick.
The knight who knows pride now questions the boy who has only just reached the starting point.
“Are you a warrior?”
Do you wish to remain a warrior?
Lac responded by kicking the ground.
At that sight, Ganikalt smiled.
“Excellent.”
To one who knows pride, and to the warrior who picks up his weapon once more in the face of fear, Ganikalt expressed his respect.
—
Author’s Note
Hoooorrrr!
