[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 329: Black Flame Dragon

“Allen, how was the training?”

I answered my father’s question.

“It was new. I climbed to this state by struggling and looking only at what was high above, so I never had the chance to solidify the ground beneath my feet.”

“Mm. Internal mana deviation comes at precisely such times.”

My father nodded.

“When constructing a building, the work of preparing the foundation is always the most important.”

My father opened his palm. An aura of a color I had never seen before shimmered there.

“Especially the secret martial art you are about to learn. Its nature is completely different from the existing martial arts that Grunewald has pursued.”

I felt a strange familiarity in that aura.

‘It’s somewhat similar to the power of the Black Society.’

This wasn’t just a matter of it being sinister or having an attribute of darkness.

“Originally, the Grunewald martial arts are of the orthodox school. They were stable, highly versatile, and flexible.”

“Yes, they were.”

“Conversely, this is belligerent, dangerous, and precarious. In a sense, it might be close to a demonic art.”

“…!”

“That is why not just anyone can learn it. You must be prepared to throw away everything you have learned and mastered until now.”

My father stated with certainty.

“It is the ultimate martial art, permitted only to those who can be completely reborn, relying solely on their own honed caliber.”

“Then the processes of learning the Eternal Ocean Chain Technique, the Azure Sea Moon Shadow Swordsmanship, and the second stage of the advanced martial arts…”

I asked.

“Was it all a cultivation process, meant to create a vessel capable of learning such a dangerous martial art for the one who would become the clan head?”

“Correct.”

My father looked at me like a teacher looking at a bright student and asked a question.

“Then do you also understand why all the previous martial arts were composed of stable and flexible properties?”

“One reason was to prepare a foundation that could accept even such a dangerous martial art.”

I answered.

“And I believe the other was a consideration to ensure that even if they could not reach that special state, the descendants would have enough power to protect themselves.”

After all, only one person in each generation could ascend to the position of clan head.

“Right.”

If that was the case, then Vitenfeld Grunewald…

And the ancestors of Grunewald who carried on his will had truly looked far into the future to perfect the current system.

‘This is the power of a prestigious clan.’

It was the power of the one and only great clan that could stand against the phantoms of exiles who sought to swallow the entire continent.

“When the head of Grunewald fails to reach this state, that is, in fact, the most dangerous of times.”

My father explained.

“Actually, the clan head before me was ultimately unable to master this art.”

“…!”

“If you cannot achieve great mastery in this martial art,”

My father said.

“Then either I or Elder Leszek will take the Dragon Heart instead. It would be far from the best option, more like the lesser of two evils, but.”

“…It couldn't be helped. It would mean my own aptitude was lacking from the start.”

“That’s right. At that time, we will sacrifice our lives to take the Dark King’s arm or leg, or at the very least, an eye, with us to the afterlife as company. You will either avenge us or…”

My father smiled bitterly.

“You may run to the ends of the earth and live. Waiting for those bastards to grow old and die might not be a bad idea either.”

His words were filled with a great sense of responsibility and solemn resolve.

At the same time, the fact that he was not forcing an unconditional sacrifice upon his children could be said to be the heart of a father, rather than that of a clan head.

“Thank you for your words, but…”

I replied with a slight joke mixed in.

“If the Dark King’s caliber rises and he becomes a demon god, wouldn’t he live even longer than me then?”

“That is also true. He might even try to transfer his soul to a younger body to live forever.”

“Wow, that’s disgusting.”

“I agree. We cannot allow such a world to come to pass.”

Smiling lightly, my father corrected his posture.

“Let us begin now. I will first recite the incantation, so focus with a quiet and deep heart….”

The incantation began with a message left by Vitenfeld Grunewald.

.

.

.

- To my descendant, the one who will become the head of Grunewald. This is a martial art I created by compiling the enlightenment I gained while fighting the demonic arts of the ancient people, who lived in an era long ago when the boundary between martial arts and magic was blurred.

- In the age of the Emperor, and even further back, the ancient people had a very cruel and barbaric side. They did not hesitate to take the lives of others, to steal that life to increase their own power. They must have thought it was no different from a hunter eating a rabbit to build their muscles.

- However, as the name for the leader of the pack changed from chieftain to king, those who opposed such cruelty, those who sought to protect and save their weak compatriots, and those who wished to lead the world with the logic of law instead of the logic of slaughter, appeared.

- But it is the way of the world that neither the wicked nor the righteous always win. Around the time when great justice and grand discourse had been reduced to mere jokes, there appeared in the world a king of all kings, one who ruled them all, that is to say, a single Emperor.

- In a world ruled by a single human, one born of noble blood was of a higher rank than one who was strong. A man who commanded an army of 100 or 1,000 was a mightier man than a single martial artist, as was a man who had a thousand gold coins piled in his vault.

- As a result, an age dawned where for the sake of a single young boy who inherited the Emperor’s bloodline, millions of people died, ten times that number shed tears, and eventually, an entire nation was destroyed.

The descendants of those who were destroyed in such a way were exiles.

They were phantoms who wandered the continent harboring a grudge against the Emperor, and who had now forgotten even their original purpose, with only revenge and domination remaining in their hearts.

- …Their beginning was surely a vengeance with a just cause. However, as all other powerful beings did, while committing all sorts of evil deeds from behind the shadows for many long years, they became more deeply corrupted than any darkness in the world…. That’s right. They were those who had gazed into the abyss and were stained by it.

- My close friend Ernst and I joined forces. The one to become the focal point was the head of clan Litvaleur, who possessed the caliber of an emperor, equipped with popular trust, political power, and skill. And so, these three men won the war against the Black Society and founded the Kingdom of Litvaleur.

- The battle against them was truly harsh and arduous. While fighting them, I encountered the demonic arts of numerous ancient people and came to understand their profound principles.

My heart pounded.

- Therefore, this is a martial art that is a compilation of their arts, and one that holds the key to confronting them. Let my descendants achieve great mastery and protect the clan from the stirrings of the Black Society.

It was a message that seemed to have predicted the events of today.

‘It means they were that vicious and tenacious.’

They spent 100 years recovering their strength, and another 100 years seizing control of the Flanders Kingdom, then raised a being who would reach the state of a demon god.

Their bottomless malice was enough to send a chill down my own spine.

‘But because 17 years ago, you abandoned a single swordsman.’

That entire grand plan would be thrown into disarray.

‘Those who look too high will surely stumble for the crime of not watching their own feet.’

I am the woodcutter who will chop at the giant’s ankle.

***

The training process was harsh.

The new martial art was designed to create new power from within the chaos of mercilessly tearing down and overturning the existing system.

“Uweck!”

My mana and blood twisted countless times, causing me to vomit blood.

“Endure it. You are forging a path that has not been walked before. You must bear through even the most terrible pain.”

Each time, my father’s voice echoed from somewhere in my subconscious.

“Even if inner demons come, accept them, Allen. For one who walks the night path relying on the faint moonlight, even delusion and fear are natural.”

This was truly a martial art that was difficult to learn without someone to guide you.

I felt as if I had gotten a small glimpse of just how arduous a fight a man named Vitenfeld had overcome 200 years ago.

“Allen, prepare yourself. You will now meet the hottest land, the coldest land, the darkest land, and the most frightening enemies within the hell of your mind. It is the fear that exists in your subconscious.”

Those words were no exaggeration.

.

.

.

What felt like an eternity passed within my subconscious.

During that time, I had to repeatedly think that it would be better to just give up and die.

“Wow, this is driving me fucking crazy.”

I became a piece of meat thrown into boiling oil, then a frozen rabbit isolated on a cold, snowy mountain.

“Aaargh!”

I became a lost soul who went mad after wandering in a cave for three days and three nights, and I was surrounded by the enemies I had killed, beaten, butchered, and mocked.

“Fuck, this sucks, for real.”

And yet.

“…Not a chance, you bastards.”

No trial could break my spirit. Because I myself believed it, I never broke.

“Maybe I’m already suffering from internal energy deviation.”

I muttered in the space of my subconscious. I had forgotten where I was, and I had forgotten how much time had passed.

But the awareness of my own existence, the flame of my ego, continued to flicker without change.

“…A flame?”

It was at that very moment.

I heard a voice that was not my own.

[The primordial fire was born in darkness. It was the power that illuminates the dark.]

I muttered as if in conversation with that unknown voice.

“Fire.”

[That is the essence of your soul. Try to light it.]

“Light it? How?”

There was no answer.

“Rude bastard.”

…Come to think of it, among the functions of the Silent Night Soul-Soaking Divine Art, there was the power to create a black flame.

With the feeling of drawing up that already existing power, I added firepower to that primordial flame.

Fwoooosh!

The flame that shone even in the darkness consumed the dark, as if it had swallowed a black shadow.

But it was quite different from the fire that had risen from the mana of dark oblivion.

‘Overwhelmingly high temperature.’

A fire that felt like it would blind you just by looking at it. It was truly like the flame of a sun god.

‘…What would happen if I added the power of the Dragon Heart to this?’

Could I literally create a fire like the sun?

‘Dragon Heart, the heart of a dragon.’

Following the flow of my consciousness, I shaped the flame into the form of a dragon.

A dragon of black flame.

…It was a Black Flame Dragon.

“Hehehehe.”

I laughed somewhat grimly and commanded.

“Black Flame Dragon, burn it all.”

KRAAAAAAW!

The Black Flame Dragon roared. Then all the darkness was lifted, burned away, and devoured.

Crack! Craaack!

The darkness lifted, the darkness broke, and the darkness split apart.

And so…

“…Congratulations, Allen.”

When I opened my eyes, my father, Leszek, and Genninhen were looking at me.

“You have achieved great mastery.”

“…Just how long was I like this?”

“An eternity that never ends, or…”

My father said.

“Ten days.”

I laughed hollowly at his words.

“No wonder my whole body aches.”

I had been sitting like this for ten whole days, so it was only natural that my body was screaming.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]