With the corners of his lips pulled up, Isaac gazed at Rankellon's face, brimming with joy. He took a slow, deliberate breath.
Just breathing in the same space as the being in front of him felt repulsive.
At the same time, the scene gave him certainty.
'This village cannot be saved.'
And this man in front of him—Rankellon—was at the center of it all.
While the Transcendents and humans fought over the "cake" that is the world,
He smiles and says: it would be better if we just destroyed it all—then everyone would be happy.
That statement, so pure in its delivery, was all the more chilling.
A primal, grotesquely twisted destructive instinct—he could only be called a true primordial Transcendent.
'Disgusting.'
What was truly disgusting wasn't that they craved destruction,
But that they believed that desire to be the truth.
But the truth couldn't be exposed just yet.
To enter the land of the Primordial Transcendents, these people were still useful.
"We're heading to the Primordial Lands."
Breaking Rankellon's wave of excitement, Liana spoke.
Her voice was cold as ice.
"From there, we'll cross over into the human realm."
Hearing Liana's next words, Rankellon beamed with a wide, almost tearing smile.
As if he had waited so long for this moment, he cheered.
With a bright and foolish expression—pure like a child.
And all of it directed toward destruction and chaos, making it all the more revolting.
"Ah, then don't worry."
With a soft smile, as if there was no longer any need to hide anything, Rankellon nodded.
A smile not of joy—but of devotion.
A worship directed at destruction.
"I'll make sure everything is ready for you to leave in comfort."
The fact that such words could sound so gentle only deepened Isaac's disgust.
***
The next day.
The village was quiet.
He had heard the peddlers would leave as soon as the stars disappeared from the sky.
Was it because of that? There was barely any trace of people.
The first group of merchants had already left, and Isaac expected the second group—the ones who entered the village when he met Nameless—to still be here.
But the village was as silent as death.
It was as if the remaining merchants had all disappeared or gone into hiding.
The reason soon became clear.
"We're all ready!"
At the village center—
The place where they had first shared a meal together.
There, the "merchants" stood in neat rows.
Strange clothing, looking like peddlers.
But despite that, there were familiar faces among them.
The one who served food.
The one who guided them to the barn.
The one who patrolled the village.
They were all villagers.
"..."
Isaac slowly drew in a breath.
A chill ran down his spine like a cold breeze.
It wasn't hard to guess what Rankellon had done with the villagers in just one day.
Liana's face, as she looked at the calmly standing villagers, had turned to stone.
But only Isaac noticed the fading light in her expression.
Rankellon, oblivious to her simmering anger, trotted over with a grin.
"We're disguised as merchants, so we can leave now. There's nothing to worry about."
"…Right."
Liana kept her words short.
The northern group who had stayed in the barn also joined.
They were supposed to be sacrifices for the ritual, so their wrists were tied with rope—but only loosely, so they could easily free themselves if they tried.
"Isaac! Isaac! Come here for a second!"
Just before departure, Sharen quietly called out to Isaac.
Following her whispered voice to the village entrance, he found Nureumdol and Nameless waiting.
"I-I saw it!"
Nureumdol, trembling like a leaf, flailed as if unsure where to place his hands as he explained.
"I-I was hiding, and suddenly I heard something! So I looked up! And at the entrance—the villagers were… b-burying the bodies of the peddlers!"
"...."
Nameless stood with his arms crossed, listening silently, while Isaac's expression hardened further.
"That way! Over there!"
Nooreumdol was in such a rush that he rolled along the ground to guide them.
Damp soil, freshly laid, covered the ground.
Even Isaac, with an ordinary sense of smell, could detect the thick scent of blood amidst the foul odor.
"Ugh."
Sharen was already covering her nose.
It seemed the stench had worsened due to the overwhelming amount of herbal fragrance used to mask the blood smell.
A feeling of heaviness crept in.
Not just because they had been mere one-sided victims.
'How am I… accepting the deaths of the Transcendents?'
To Isaac, they were enemies who had to die. The Transcendents were nothing more than one-sided plunderers and enemies.
But now…
A sense of conflict arose.
He never imagined he'd one day feel this way in front of the graves of the Transcendents.
It was a complicated feeling.
For a moment, he considered just walking away.
But still—
Out of the bare minimum courtesy…
"...."
He quietly closed his eyes and lowered his head.
A silent prayer.
A brief moment of silence.
Believing this to be the least he could do, he turned around—
Under the bamboo hat, Nameless's moon-like eyes were quietly watching Isaac.
"...."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I was just surprised."
"Huh?"
"This is the first time in my life I've seen a human close their eyes in front of a Transcendent's grave."
Isaac didn't bother replying.
The feeling was too complex to express in words.
It seemed they were sharing a similar emotion.
***
"If the weather's good, it should take around two weeks to reach the Primordial Lands."
Just like Rankellon said, even after several days of walking, there wasn't a single village or town in sight.
There was nothing worth seeing—just a dark, desolate land.
Dust storms blowing through, and the occasional strange-shaped beasts appearing.
Isaac realized something while walking through this place:
'I think I get why merchants treated this journey like a pilgrimage.'
It was practically a path of hardship.
Traveling from village to village required true courage.
As the name "Abyssal Realm" suggested, it was a place that wore down one's spirit.
"…I'm getting bored of word games now."
"R-Really?!"
Sharen, perched on top of Nooreumdol's head, grumbled.
The only good thing about Nooreumdol was that he absorbed all of Sharen's whining.
Otherwise, Isaac might have been tormented all day long.
"S-Something's coming from the right!"
The Transcendent with bat-like ears who had been walking in front quickly pulled back.
By now used to this routine, both Liana and Isaac stepped forward, drawing their weapons.
The beasts were mole-like creatures resembling wolves, moving in packs and kicking up dust.
Because the Abyssal Realm was so dark, it was easy to miss them until they were right in front of you.
"How many?"
"T-Twenty to thirty!"
"Mid-sized group."
Liana nodded and stepped forward with her greatsword.
Isaac also moved ahead, his hand resting on the sword at his waist.
Nameless, who had been observing, frowned and approached.
"…Tsk, I told you, didn't I?"
"..."
"Draw it and use it. Relying solely on Iaido (quick-draw technique) will get you killed."
"..."
"Come on, draw your swords. And do it alone. What are you hesitating for—just thirty earth moles."
"Are you my master or something?"
"Let's just say I'm filling in for the time being."
Nameless intentionally mimicked the tone of Isaac's Grandmaster. After spending a few days with her, Isaac had come to a realization.
This woman was far more frivolous than he expected.
"Go! Fight! Are you really hesitating over this when you were the disciple that Number 10 entrusted everything to?"
"…Haa."
Pushed forward, Isaac grabbed the twin swords at his waist and stepped out. Liana, who had been watching him quietly, also stepped back slightly, giving Isaac a chance.
"Good luck."
A brief word of encouragement.
Isaac nodded and moved forward to face the earth moles. The creatures, as large as a person, collapsed one after another with each swing of his swords.
'I'm used to reading a swordsman's movements.'
But beasts were different. Their movements were far more unpredictable than he thought, and that unpredictability sometimes exposed a critical weakness in Isaac.
"Don't assume your opponent knows the right answer just because you do! That's your flaw!"
Nameless's voice rang out from behind.
Isaac agreed with that more than he wanted to admit.
For instance, when he tried to predict a reasonable sword path and respond to it…
But if the opponent was simply brute-forcing or coming from an unexpected angle, Isaac was actually vulnerable.
He was strong against the strong.
But weak against the weak.
That was a fatal flaw for someone like Isaac, who turned battles into a mental game of strategy.
He had realized it even during the Volten Massacre.
"Remember, analyze, adjust? If you can't even clash blades in the first place, none of that matters!"
And there was another thing.
'My body feels heavy.'
Because the Abyss Realm lacked mana, his movements were sluggish in battle, and he ran out of breath faster than usual.
Even though Isaac was a swordsman who didn't rely on mana, the environmental factor was undeniably significant.
No wonder Rankellon had said that only the strong survive in the Abyss Realm.
"…Truly a fine slave. Hunting beasts like that and all,"
That very same Rankellon was now rubbing his hands together, flattering Liana, the strong one of the group.
After dealing with all the dirt wolves, Isaac returned.
"You tried to fight with your head again, didn't you? You need to let go a bit. Most swordsmen tend to get hot-headed, but you're too cold."
"…"
It was a habit from his days living as a "Silent Sword."
Whenever he saw a sword, he had a tendency to respond with intellect rather than instinct.
That affected him in combat.
"Let yourself act emotionally sometimes. There are moments when that's exactly what you need."
"…That may be true, but…"
"What?"
"I appreciate the guidance, but if my Grandmaster finds out about this, I doubt she'll be happy."
He could already picture his master sulking and grumbling: 'Why are you corrupting my precious disciple without permission?'
Yeah… she'd probably hold a grudge for a while.
And Isaac was sure—alcohol alone wouldn't be enough to fix it.
Nameless smirked.
"Which is exactly why I want to teach you more."
"…"
Didn't he already say?
This woman… is way more frivolous than he thought.
***
When the Silver Clock Star rises, it signals the arrival of night, and the march halts.
Everyone pitches their tents and gathers around the campfire for night watch or a simple meal.
"No! That's not it! Remove one!"
"Like this?"
"Why are you removing two?! Isaac, you dummy!"
"..."
Isaac, playing a hand game Sharen taught him, fell silent—he hadn't expected to be called a dummy by her.
Silverna, watching nearby, burst into laughter.
Then—
"..."
Liana quietly approached.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Isaac slowly stood up.
During the day, they fought beasts.
At night, they had another routine—
Sparring.
Every night, Isaac sparred with Liana.
So far, the score:
31 matches, 0 wins, 31 losses.
He couldn't win even once.
The transcendent started to think it wasn't sparring but tormenting a slave.
As he followed her out, Nameless called out to Isaac.
"Yesterday, you got overpowered in a contest of strength and lost helplessly. But don't just avoid strength contests altogether."
"…Yes."
"She already knows all your moves. Don't hesitate to use your 'Spectral aura'. You need to get used to it."
Unlike his master, Nameless told him to use his Spectral aura without holding back.
It felt a little strange, but Isaac nodded.
To be honest,
Nameless knew far more about Spectral aura than his master did.
After all, she lived among the primordial transcendent.
"Isaac Logan."
A deep voice stopped him in his tracks just as he was about to step forward.
This time, it was Uldren, sitting near the campfire with his wife, arms linked.
"Don't rely on tricks. Helmut isn't the type to fall for them."
"..."
Lohengrin briefly came to Isaac's mind, but he decided to let it go.
"She'll come at you with overwhelming force. Think hard about how to withstand that."
"Thank you for the advice."
Isaac bowed deeply.
Uldren had been giving him advice about his sparring with Liana for several days now.
"He keeps helping him. Does he like him or something?"
"Is he finally acknowledging him?"
Selene and Silverna, mother and daughter, asked as they watched Isaac's back.
"Acknowledge? Not even close!"
Uldren barked in response,
But as he stared at Isaac's back, a faint, bitter smile crept onto his face.
"…Just reminds me of my younger days."
"..."
"Yeah, that's all it is."
Who was Uldren?
A man who spent his entire life challenging Arandel.
Perhaps that's why—
Watching Isaac challenge Liana every night… Uldren saw his younger self reflected in him.
"…But Father wasn't nearly as handsome as Isaac."
…Raising a daughter really is pointless.