Chapter 103 - Don't Try This At Home
If one had to sum up Jin's way of fighting in a single phrase,
'Don't Try This At Home' would be the most fitting.
This had long been proven true through the assessments of those close to him.
Take Khalifa, the owner of Anekdote, who was the first to recognize Jin's talent.
"That guy throws his body into fights way too much.
The stronger he gets, the more I feel like a worried parent watching their kid near deep water."
She had sighed deeply as she said this.
'I've always been concerned about that too.'
Even Po, who was standing beside her, had nodded without hesitation.
Jin was like a double-edged sword—his ability to get things done inspired confidence,
but his disregard for his own health made him a constant source of worry.
Naturally, fainting mid-battle was a frequent occurrence.
To be honest, it happened a lot.
If one had to compare it to something, it was like the frequency of smoke breaks during grueling military work.
At least, from a non-smoker's perspective.
"Didn't they just take a break? They're going again?"
Jin's consciousness was just as fleeting—he'd pass out mid-fight, and then again after it was over.
At this point, he was practically a knockout artist.
Of course, it was inevitable.
Jin fought by squeezing out every last bit of his strength.
Leaving not even a speck of energy behind meant that physical exhaustion was simply the natural consequence.
Perhaps it was precisely because of this reckless fighting style that he had survived so many life-threatening situations.
Either way, Jin had blacked out again today.
And here was the interesting part—
Sometimes, when Jin lost consciousness, his mind would be flung to unexpected places, triggered by status rewards, sudden realizations, or entirely unforeseen conditions.
*Reward Acquired: XP 30,000, '????'*
And right now was one of those moments.
Hm?
Jin tilted his head, realizing that he was standing upright.
It was as if a chunk of time had been cut out of his memory.
His eyes instinctively narrowed as his lips moved side to side, his jaw tensing slightly.
Let's see…
The Apostle had run away, the Sword Saint had arrived (late),
the holy relic he pointed at had broken (too bad), and the quest had just been completed.
The last thing he clearly remembered was the ground rushing up to greet his face.
And yet, here he was.
Not lying in a soft bed under an unfamiliar ceiling,
but still in the front courtyard of the sanctuary.
Where is everyone?
Jin muttered as he scanned his surroundings.
The Sword Saint was gone.
Kendrick, who should have been collapsed somewhere in the distance, was also nowhere to be seen.
The air, which had been searing with tension just moments ago due to Crow and the Apostle, had settled into an unnatural calm.
He looked up at the sky, his head filled with questions.
The clouds were soft and fluffy—too serene, almost unnervingly so.
Jin blinked at the unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sight.
"There you are."
A voice from behind pulled his gaze backward.
"I've found you."
The woman who bowed as she spoke was…well, her attire felt completely out of place for the era.
She was wearing a soutane.
The same kind of robe that, in Jin's hometown, had been made famous by an actor with the surname Kang in an exorcism movie.
By the 2020s, only theology students wore such clothing.
And if even South Korea was like that, then in Lost City?
It had to be even rarer.
In a world where mass-produced clothing was scarce and cyborgs openly displayed their robotic limbs, such a prim and proper outfit carried an almost sacred weight.
Hallelujah.
Even the warm weather, perfect for laying down a mat and taking a nap,
seemed to add to the feeling.
But no matter his personal thoughts, this situation required focus.
Who is this?
Just as Jin tilted his head in confusion—
"…?"
He suddenly felt something off.
As if the air in his mouth was trying to escape on its own.
What the hell is this?
Jin clenched his lips shut, holding the air in.
And the world stopped.
The wind brushing his cheek, the drifting clouds, the woman before him,
even himself—
Everything froze.
It was as if someone had pressed the spacebar on a paused video.
In that moment, Jin had two choices:
Stubbornly hold on and remain in this frozen state for who knows how long.
Let out the air in his mouth and see what happens.
It was only after what felt like an hour had passed
that Jin finally chose the latter.
"What's going on?"
A voice—his own breath forming words.
"He has arrived. And this time, the Lord of Anarion is with him.
They are determined to meet you, Sir Knight."
The woman finally responded, her tone quiet but firm.
Jin slowly turned.
Clank.
At some point, he had donned platinum armor.
"Where are they?"
"They were at the southern chapel a short while ago.
But now, I cannot say. They roam the cathedral freely."
"I'll go."
With that, Jin—or rather, the knight he had become—began walking.
The cathedral in his sight was similar to the one he knew, yet subtly different.
Its walls bore fewer marks of age, as if time itself had rewound.
The people he passed were the same.
"Sir Knight."
Each person he encountered greeted him with bows and nods,
all clad in antiquated garments similar to the woman's.
And without fail, the knight returned their gestures with a slight nod of his own.
Of course, Jin's own will had nothing to do with it.
He had been too busy experiencing an 8K UHD VR possession from a first-person perspective ever since he handed over control after opening his tightly shut lips.
The saying, "If you can't avoid it, enjoy it," fit the situation perfectly.
At some point—
Step.
The sound of silver sabatons echoed through the corridor.
In the distance, hymns praising the divine resonated through the air.
Two figures stood beneath a grand stained-glass window, adorned with sacred paintings depicting religious themes.
Sensing an approaching presence, one of them instinctively turned toward the direction of the knight's arrival.
A welcoming smile accompanied the movement.
"Ah, you're here."
The hooded man spoke.
Jin recognized the face—or rather, he was familiar with the voice and demeanor.
The Seer.
A man who, alongside the Seven Great Houses, had ushered in a new era.
The one who appeared behind the vacant throne after the Emperor's death.
And beside him stood another man, a sword hanging at his waist, his gaze carrying a faint transcendence.
Naturally, this man was the head of House Anarion.
In other words, the great-grandfather of the so-called Sword Saint's grandfather's grandfather's great-grandfather—
And even that wasn't enough.
The cycle had to repeat once more to encompass the full weight of history.
During this exchange, the knight silently accepted the two gazes directed at him before finally speaking.
"What brings the two of you here?"
The hooded figure, his lower face visible beneath the shadow of his cowl, responded.
"To seek an audience with the Saint King."
"Then you've come to the wrong place. No such person exists here."
"Is that so? Yet everyone calls you by that name, Aldemain."
Jin listened in, feeling as though he were crunching on invisible popcorn.
He wasn't a fool.
He knew that this was a moment from the past, one he had already witnessed before.
And it was also the very reason he had become entangled in this rotation.
The next moment, the knight—Aldemain—spoke.
"...What is it you wish to say?"
The Seer turned his head.
His unseen gaze rested upon the radiant stained glass.
A painting filled with the teachings of saints, something that even the illiterate could understand with their eyes and hearts.
It was a work of art, nothing less.
After gazing upon it for a while, the Seer finally spoke.
"The light fades, and the roses wither. You know it as well as I do—our era stands at the deathbed of its twilight years. Rather than clinging to it, it is time to let go."
He shifted his gaze back.
"Come with us. You have the power to be the beacon of the new age. It is not too late."
"..."
Aldemain remained silent.
Then, for the first time, the head of House Anarion spoke.
"A world where there is no longer anyone to pray to. How much longer do you plan to kneel?"
"Master of the House."
The Seer interjected softly, but the patriarch continued undeterred, his tone as sharp as his gaze.
"The King of the Dwarves refused to yield. So did the King of the Elves. And what became of them? If you have learned nothing from their downfall, then how are you any different from the mad beast king who lost his mind long ago? Tell me."
Is euthanasia the conclusion you seek?
The question struck Aldemain like a nail driven into his chest.
Perhaps because he was sharing Aldemain's perspective, Jin felt the weight of those words as well.
Perhaps that was why Aldemain's next response sounded all the more resolute.
"Master of the House, can you not hear this song?"
His voice blended softly into the melody of the hymn.
"We are still here, even if we have been forsaken. We live each day as earnestly as the last. That is more important to us than standing upon the threshold of a new age. And so, my humble strength will be dedicated not to the dawn of a new era, but to illuminating the final moments of this one. Just as I always have—as a knight. That is enough for me."
There was no response.
Without a word, the head of House Anarion turned and left the corridor.
As the Seer watched him go, he spoke.
"One day, a statue will be erected in your honor. O Saint King."
"How utterly presumptuous of you."
Aldemain let out a dry chuckle and threw a final remark toward the departing Seer.
"I will respect your methods. If I am to be forgotten, then so be it. That is all I have to say."
"..."
The words gave the Seer pause, but only for a moment.
Soon, his footsteps faded into the distance.
Left alone, Aldemain slowly lifted his head.
His gaze landed on the highest part of the stained-glass window, where a depiction of divine light breaking through the clouds shone.
Then, he spoke.
"...Have you truly left?"
It was the same voice Jin had once heard in the Grand Cathedral.
Time accelerated.
It moved too fast for the eye to follow.
Yet, it was enough to grasp the outline of Aldemain's life.
And so, Jin understood—
Aldemain had upheld his words to the very end.
At the twilight of a fading era, he remained the knight who guarded the Grand Cathedral until the brilliant light at last faded.
Time passed.
And on the day when there was nothing left to protect, he laid his aura into the old sword he had wielded all his life.
A weapon that bore the Saint King's legacy was more than worthy of being called a relic.
In the days to come, when a statue of him was erected in the center of the Grand Cathedral, the sword was enshrined within a glass case in the sanctum.
A story unrecorded in history.
"Mm."
Jin opened his eyes.
And at that moment, he realized—
This time, he was truly awake.
An unfamiliar ceiling confirmed it.
Countless first sentences from the openings of novels surfaced in his mind like big data, proving the reality of his situation.
Still, he couldn't let his guard down just yet.
He cautiously opened his mouth to confirm that his voice was, indeed, his own.
"Ah, ah—ah! Hm, yeah, that's me."
The experience of sharing someone else's senses was as fascinating as it was deeply unpleasant.
Jin clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, feeling a small sense of relief as his body moved according to his will.
And then, he pondered.
The Saint King.
At the very least, he was someone who upheld his will until the very end.
Along with that, Jin had also gained a rough understanding of the twilight of the Age of Light and Roses.
Had the gods abandoned the world?
Based on the conversation between the Family Head and the Saint King, that seemed to be the most plausible assumption.
When he thought about it, it wasn't just the church that had fallen out of favor—dwarves, fairies, and other non-human races were also absent in the present era.
They had supposedly declined well over a thousand years ago, so it made sense that they were hard to find today.
Then what exactly were the Seers and the Family Heads trying to do?
And why did the Holy King reject it to the very end?
"Hmm…"
As Jin absentmindedly stroked his chin, deep in thought, he heard a soft clunk.
The sound of a doorknob turning was followed by someone stepping into the room.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Huh?"
Jin, caught off guard, blinked in confusion as he saw the Sword Saint approaching.
Wait a second.
Shouldn't a maid?
A servant?
A butler?
Someone on the staff have shown up first?
Wasn't there supposed to be a whole process here?
The part where they found him awake, gasped dramatically, and then rushed out to announce, "He's awake!" before he was finally led to meet someone important?
Yet, with all those formalities skipped over, the Sword Saint had appeared instead, leaving Jin utterly bewildered.
"A-Ah, yes," he stammered, nodding reflexively.
And then, a certain memory resurfaced—the image of the sacred relic, split cleanly in half.
He had been entrusted with it for safekeeping, only to end up shattering it.
Sure, he hadn't let it be taken, but wasn't that a bit of a stretch to call it a success?
So Jin thought to himself.
Since the Sword Saint had shown up late, let's just call it even.
However, instead of reprimanding him, the Sword Saint unexpectedly apologized.
"My apologies. I was delayed because I wanted to leave without any casualties."
Jin hesitated for a moment before carefully voicing his thoughts.
"Um… What if you hadn't sent me in the first place?"
"Hm? Why wouldn't I? Breaking past one's limits means challenging someone stronger. If I could have, I would've sent Ryucard instead."
…Is this guy insane?
Wait, so he knew?!
Jin felt a headache coming on.
He finally understood why this man used to be called the Mad Sword.
The truth was, there had been a reason for the Sword Saint's delay.
When he arrived, he had sensed Crow's presence—an entity resisting the Apostle's energy.
If not for that, he would have arrived on time.
Of course, that didn't change the fact that he had sent Jin and Kendrick to the Grand Cathedral in the first place.
His method of training was undeniably extreme.
And so, Jin could only stare at the Sword Saint as his past enemies likely had.
Like he was a madman.
Until the Sword Saint's expression grew serious.
"…By the way, about the sacred relic."
Ah.
Here it comes.
Jin's face stiffened as he hastily thought of ways to explain himself.
Just then, he felt a strange tickling sensation in his chest and instinctively scratched at the area.
Something caught beneath his fingertips, and without thinking, he pulled it free.
"Don't worry too much. It was an ancient artifact, so it was bound to—hmm?"
The Sword Saint's pupils dilated.
Because in Jin's hand was a long, glowing rod of light.
But Jin was just as shocked.
"W-What the hell is this?"
It felt like discovering a sparrow had landed on his shoulder without his consent.
As Jin gawked at it in disbelief, a familiar system window flashed before his eyes.
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