The 9th Class Swordmaster: Blade of Truth
Chapter 441: The Spirit Realm (1)

Chapter 441: The Spirit Realm (1)

“...That concludes it.”

Dushala finally finished reading the lengthy report, long enough to reach the floor. She seemed satisfied.

“That’s impressive.”

“The continent has never seen combat of this level before.”

“Indeed. I can’t believe the entire continent was a battlefield.”

“We couldn’t have managed without Toska’s solar bombardment. Wiping out all of Hekqet’s minions in one go? Absolutely incredible. They stopped being scary after their commanders were reduced to ash.”

Despite the colossal scale of the battle—involving as much as two million troops—the damage was negligible.

The people had been celebrating ever since Hekqet’s trident was embedded in the Thousand-Year Ice Cave, and it didn’t seem like they would stop soon. Finally free from the horrors of war, soldiers and civilians alike could finally breathe a sigh of relief over shared drinks and warm meals, arranged by Karyl himself.

Dushala had voiced her concerns about the risks of wielding the Raging Gale’s power, but Karyl remained unfazed. What mattered to him were their two victories—both deeply significant. Compared to the tens of thousands of sacrifices in his past life, the Free Nation was performing brilliantly.

Indeed, the future he envisioned revolved around just that—avoiding sacrifices in the prophesied war. Though it was far from over, Karyl allowed himself to bask in this victory, if only a little.

“As formidable as Toska’s power was, it wasn’t everything. The battle would’ve been grueling without us, eh?” Hwarin beamed, her expression proud.

“She’s right, you know?” Greys agreed, seemingly eager to flatter the tribeswoman.

“Pff... That beastly woman’s ego will soar to the skies now,” Miliana muttered under her breath, to which her sisters nodded approvingly.

But despite their perceived cynicism, the Blades of Digon didn’t seem displeased.

“How did you manage to conquer Pharel and return so quickly?” Anthem Howard asked cautiously.

“Pharel, as Karyl described, was structured in floors, each containing monsters. At the end of each floor was a gatekeeper, a leader of the monsters. We had to defeat that gatekeeper to advance to the next floor,” Huwarin explained promptly, as though she had been waiting for the chance to recount her exploits.

“Sounds just like a dungeon,” Anthem noted.

Darryl Harian, seated in a corner of the hall, pulled out a pen and began jotting down notes.

“But there’s a difference. The monsters inside weren’t ordinary. They were all tainted with Tarak. Also, unlike dungeons, which disappear once the leader is defeated, Pharel didn’t vanish. It simply allowed passage upward, with no exit in sight.”

“Then how did you manage to escape?”

“The exit opened once we conquered the 10th floor. At that point, we were faced with a choice. Keep going up or backtrack.”

“Does that mean a door opens every ten layers?” Anthem asked.

Hwarin shrugged. Everyone was listening to her tale with rapt attention.

“Who knows? We didn’t go any further. But one thing is clear. The 10th floor we conquered was far from the end.”

Her gaze swept across those who had ventured into the Pharel of the Thousand-Year Ice Cave with her.

“If anything, that was just the beginning. So you wanna know how we managed to conquer those floors and return so quickly?”

“...”

“It’s simple, really. We cleared the 10th floor much faster than the previous ones, because we already knew beforehand how to conquer it.”

“You already knew? How?”

Hwarin looked toward Karyl as though asking for permission to reveal the truth—but also for confirmation.

Karyl simply shrugged, silently granting his approval.

“The gatekeeper of the Tenth Floor,” Hwarin began, “was Blood.”

“...Huh?!”

“What?! What do you mean it was Blood?”

“That can’t be...!”

Everyone was baffled, except for the members of the raid party. Their silence served as confirmation for the others.

“Then... If we were to reach the 20th floor, would we encounter Hekqet? Lord Karyl, perhaps this piece of information could provide us with a better way of going against the Tarak?” Anthem proposed, his voice tinged with excitement.

“That’s impossible. If Hekqet is on the 20th floor, that would mean preparing for the tenth Tarak would require us to ascend to the 100th floor. How long do you think we can afford to spend scaling that tower?”

“Ah...” Anthem’s enthusiasm quickly deflated. He glanced downward, a hint of embarrassment flickering across his face at his own overzealousness.

“Also, there’s no guarantee that the floors are spaced evenly. It could be every ten floors, or there might be a hundred floors in between. Besides, scaling the tower comes with significant risks. If the team suffers casualties, it could compromise our war effort,” Karyl explained.

[Karyl,] Allen called out in his mind. [Now more than ever, I realize how much you’ve endured to get to this point. You’re not just relying on your experiences from the Oracle War to prepare for this ordeal.]

A bitter smile tugged at Karyl’s lips. Indeed, from conquering the very first floor of that accursed tower to going back in time, every bit of it had been a grueling struggle.

To win a war of this magnitude, spanning the entire continent with millions of troops, on his own... Even Allen couldn’t fathom the full extent of what Karyl had endured.

“That's why we must win,” Karyl said softly, almost to himself, but with steely resolve. “Hwarin, the battles you fought inside Pharel will be crucial in the upcoming battles against the Tarak.”

He then turned to Kayla Spear.

“Now you understand why I sent you to the tower.”

Kayla nodded in understanding.

“During your absence, Anthem elevated the Formless Formation. However, he is a strategist, not a warrior. Inevitably, there will be gaps. You are the only one who can further refine the formation, by making use of your experiences in Pharel.”

“Understood.”

“Beikan, Kinu, Lilliana,” Karyl continued, “I sent you to the tower instead of the southerners because unity is vital in combat. Unlike the knights, your tactics can be effectively passed on to them. Combine the strengths of the north and the south, and have Thompson reorganize the Ulkas Guild to integrate it into both branches of the army.”

“Roger that!”

“Yes, my lord!”

It wasn’t just the raid party; everyone at the scene marveled at Karyl’s foresight. Now they finally understood the rationale behind the first Phrael raid.

“Randol,” Karyl called.

At that moment, everyone turned to the MacGovern son.

“I have little to ask of you.”

The others were taken aback by Karyl’s cold tone. If anyone had suspected he might show favoritism toward his own family, they now had confirmation that he wouldn’t.

“Think for yourself. Act on your own.”

Randol merely nodded, saying nothing in response.

“We have achieved two significant victories, but the Calamities will continue to plague us,” Karyl declared to everyone in the hall.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

Though his voice was low, it resonated powerfully, striking their hearts.

“NO, SIR!”

The collective response was almost deafening, like a roar they had been holding back.

“Good. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The only thing awaiting us in war is more victories to claim.”

Karyl nodded slowly.

“So for now, savor this victory, if only briefly. You have more than earned it.”

Naturally, cheers erupted.

“HORAAAAY...!!”

“YEAAAAHH...!!”

[It’s been a while since the city was so lively. There was little respite after hunting Blood. We proceeded with the preparations for Hekqet right away.]

Listening to Allen, Karyl downed a stiff drink. His throat burned, though it wasn’t unpleasant.

This respite won’t be much longer.

[Indeed. We shall get eternal peace after all this is over, right?]

Ssshhh...

Allen’s shadowy form manifested, picking up the bottle that sat next to Karyl.

“It seems you’ve steeled your resolve.”

“Yes. The final battle is approaching, and there’s no time to delay. It’s time to open the gate to the Spirit Realm.”

Maktuun, the Lord of Rocks, and Kungen, the Thunderlord.

To face Yula in the great war to come, Karyl had resolved to bring the last two Spirit Kings to his side.

“As you must. You’ve waited until now to go and gain their allegiance.”

Karyl nodded.

“But do you think the others can handle the Third Calamity without you?”

“They’re not kids who need looking after. They’re warriors. I’ve prepared everything they’ll need. Hwarin and the others completed the Phrael raid much faster than I anticipated. They’ll manage.”

“You trust them, then,” Allen remarked.

“I trust my memories,” Karyl said with a light chuckle, pouring himself another drink.

“Would you pour one for me as well?” a voice came from behind.

Karyl had already sensed his presence before he had spoken.

“I haven’t seen Alkar around. Could it be related to the report we received at the front gate?”

“A report?”

“A soldier at the gate reported that two wanderers have come seeking you, my lord. Interestingly, they arrived with a white young deer, so they immediately informed us.”

It was Darryl Harian.

“Anchar is finally here,” Karyl remarked, unsurprised.

[Things are falling into place. If what you said is correct, it means she’s recovered in time for the Third Calamity. Heh, all according to your memories?]

Allen’s laughter echoed in Karyl’s mind, but Karyl simply smirked.

“If my guess is right, one of them is one of the Ten Godslayers. A wanderer... What an unexpected visitor.”

Thunk—

Karyl tossed an empty glass to Darryl Harian. With a flick of his hand, the liquor rose from the bottle and settled neatly into the cup.

“When was I ever predictable?”

Darryl chuckled at Karyl’s words. With a showy gesture, he swirled his glass, causing droplets of liquor to rise and float directly into his mouth.

“I came to deliver something before you head to the Spirit Realm.”

“What is it?”

Darryl pulled a small notebook from inside his coat.

“I meant to give this to you earlier... but it was only recently retrieved from the Golden Cross Association.”

“Hmm.”

Karyl stared at the old notebook.

“I mentioned before that the Golden Cross Association was founded according to Kaye Aesir’s will.”

The cover bore no title or markings. It wasn’t a magical tome either—Karyl could sense no arcane energy emanating from it. He gave Darryl a questioning look.

“This is Kaye Aesir’s journal, containing his final testament,” Darryl explained cautiously.

At those words, Karyl’s gaze trembled as he looked down at the worn notebook in his hands.

“Everything is written within,” Darryl added softly.