Chapter 279

In modern magic, a golem was commonly treated as nothing more than a doll made of inorganic material. But in ancient magic, golems were something far more profound—they represented the very beginning of artificial life. The magic was rooted in the myth of the gods shaping clay to create humans.

In the past, Simon Magus believed it was possible to apply the concept of golems to Adam Kadmon. After countless trials and failures, he finally succeeded in crafting an artificial being that could rival the gods—a Demigod Tier entity.

The cost of creating Ein-Sof alone was enough to topple and rebuild entire nations several times over. It consumed materials that could never be acquired again, and beyond perfecting the magical formulas, there was the sheer randomness one had to overcome. It was a once-in-a-lifetime masterpiece and yet a failure. A Demigod Tier artificial lifeform that could not become Adam Kadmon.

“I probably have no right to say this, considering I’ve been running the Mage Tower all this time,” said Ein-Sof, “but I want to know—why did you allow such inefficiency to persist in this organization, despite knowing it full well?”

“Hmm? Ah, you mean why did I let the inferior side survive when the Arcane Society had a far superior system?” Simon grinned lightly.

“Yes, precisely.”

Chuckling at Ein-Sof’s straightforwardness, Simon replied, “It’s simple. Humanity is made up of countless, varied individuals. No matter how good a single path may be, if you only leave one option, the scope for growth narrows. There are times when locking oneself away in isolation yields better results than collaborating, sharing, and teaching. When a collective becomes too cohesive, it often loses sight of the potential that exists outside itself.”

“So you’re saying knowledge rooted in either individual stubbornness or independence can sometimes surpass the outcomes produced by large-scale collective intelligence?”

“It’s not about superiority or inferiority.”

Simon, who regarded Ein-Sof as nothing less than his own child, explained it patiently, never once showing annoyance. He spoke about why the Arcane Society and Mage Tower had always been kept separate and why the pursuit of knowledge shouldn’t be judged solely on efficiency.

Though Ein-Sof and Simon were both Class 9 mages in terms of magical prowess, there was still a vast difference in the breadth of their wisdom.

“Generally, the greater encompasses the lesser, but that’s not always the case—especially when it comes to magic formulas.”

To draw a comparison from another field, it was like the relationship between iron and bronze. Before advancements in steelmaking, bronze was considered superior to iron. Even setting aside rare metals that required excessive effort to locate, mine, and process, steel itself wasn’t something that had been discovered all that long ago.

At the time, bronze swords were harder, more resistant to corrosion, and benefited from more advanced manufacturing techniques, making them perform better overall compared to iron swords. But if people had fixated solely on bronze and ignored iron’s potential, metallurgy and civilization would have stagnated for decades, maybe even centuries longer.

The superiority of the present did not guarantee the same in the future. What was mainstream today might not remain so tomorrow.

Ein-Sof gave a small nod, the joints in his neck clicking softly. “I see. So by tolerating inefficiency, you diversified potential paths and compensated for the blind spots.”

“...Well, I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Simon muttered, sounding slightly disappointed by the dry reaction.

He glanced around Ein-Sof’s quarters, which were as bleak and barren as ever, then gazed out the window.

“The Mage Tower has long fulfilled its role. But now it’s no longer about building a future—it’s about surviving in the present. It’s time to protect humanity’s potential alongside the Arcane Society.”

“Humanity’s potential, huh?” Ein-Sof mused. “For a creation to protect its creator—it’s an odd feeling, I must say.” But then, he bluntly added, “According to the information you’ve shared with me, humanity’s chance of surviving the Outer Gods’ invasion is close to zero. Aside from those Outer Gods whose existences are rooted in dimensions beyond ours... once Crom Dubh returns to this world, he will become complete. Even the imperfect divinity of the Void Deity Hades won’t be able to stop it for long. Buying time before being devoured—that’s the best we can hope for.”

Simon smiled softly. “Defying the end has always been a miracle. If the odds were something we could calculate and win, it wouldn’t be an apocalypse at all. It’d be far too shabby to call it that.”

“Isn’t it a little ridiculous for a mage to pin their hopes on miracles? After all, there’s no such thing as miracles in the formulas that govern this world.”

“Quite the opposite. Miracles exist precisely because they lie outside the formulas. A unique, unrepeatable formula that no mage can calculate—that’s what a miracle is. It’s proof that our fate isn’t predetermined by any script. Isn’t that rather romantic?”

Simon Magus understood this better than anyone.

He had touched the fringes of Class 10—stepped into the domain of the gods themselves. Though he couldn’t yet achieve or fully explain dimensional travel, he possessed the perceptiveness to recognize it. Even before Leonard laid out all the knowledge he carried, Simon already knew that Leonard’s soul had crossed over from another world distinct from the Outer Gods’ dimensions.

If there’s anything in this world capable of breaking through the chains of apocalypse, it’s a possibility only he carries.

And if that wasn’t a miracle... what else could be?

The future, severed during the God-Slaying War, now rested on the footsteps of a swordsman from another world.

* * *

The forces dispatched for the Demoniac conquest had returned to the Cardenas estate and resumed their daily lives. Though the victory they’d brought back was undeniably significant, they couldn’t afford to waste time with the final battle still looming.

It was a time for regrouping—refining their swords and honing their auras using the hard-won experience gained from battling the Demoniacs. It was a chance to push themselves to the next level.

Leonard, too, diligently trained every day.

“...They talk about conquering the world, but looking at the situation, it seems they’ve already done it. Clearing out all the key figures in each nation in just two weeks and conscripting every Master Rank or above individual to boot?”

The reports reaching Leonard could only be described as earth-shattering. Even though Arcadia already controlled more than half the continent, the idea of a single nation unifying the entire world was something he’d never seriously imagined.

It was utterly absurd to compare them to something like the emperors of the Central Plains, who strutted around calling themselves the Sons of Heaven. Leonard understood better than anyone what it truly meant to be “One Beloved by the World,” and that made the difference all the more stark.

—Arcadia could’ve conquered the world at the time of its founding. We simply chose not to. Even if we had “One Beloved by the World” amongst us, if we expand too quickly, that influence spreads thin. Not to mention, we expended enormous strength wiping out all the dragons.

Ancestor Cardenas, still residing within Leonard, reminisced about the distant past.

—Arcadia today could turn a famine into a bumper harvest across the entire empire, even with weaker blessings than those of Ragna. But back then, if the territory had been as vast as it is now, people would’ve barely had enough to scrape by.

“So even being loved by the world doesn’t mean you can do anything. And the larger the territory, the more resources you’d need just to fend off rebellions and foreign invasions.”

—Exactly. Double the land, quadruple the effort and blessings needed. And back then, there weren’t many individuals in the Three Noble Houses, let alone fully established families. Maintaining a stable situation and trying to stabilize an unstable one are two very different things.

The Cardenas family, holding the front lines with brute force; the Wickeline family, supporting the troops from the rear with magic; and the Jehoia family, supporting the empire and the two houses from places far from the battlefield—it wasn’t until well after the death of Arcadia’s founding emperor that the Three Noble Houses truly began collaborating to support the empire.

Arcadia’s expansion began from that point onward, and Arcadia grew from a kingdom into a self-proclaimed empire. They then expanded and swallowed the entire northern continent. They didn’t stop until they claimed over half the central continent. Their power and influence only grew with each generation.

That was the Arcadia of the present era.

It makes sense now why the Arcadian Empire had conquered around sixty percent of the continent yet didn’t expand beyond that. This was the optimal limit. Outsiders, knowing nothing, must have lived in constant fear precisely because they couldn’t understand that reasoning.

Leonard pondered while focusing on the four long strands of his intent extending from his body. The strands stretched in the four cardinal directions, each connected to a sword. It resembled a technique known as Sword Manipulation, where one controlled swords remotely using their upper dantian.

“Huff... It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes...”

Leonard’s entire body was already drenched in sweat. From the divine energy lingering around the floating swords, the true intensity of his training was evident.

Just like when he had once completed the deification of the Azure Dragon and White Tiger Qi, he was now summoning the divine beasts through his Mindscape, channeling them into each sword. Even the finest forged blade could only endure so long when possessed by a divine beast. But this time, Leonard was sustaining four of them simultaneously.

To think the difference between handling two and four would be this staggering...

In theory, doubling the burden should mean twice the strain, yet in practice, it felt more like eight times the strain. He couldn’t call forth only one or three beasts. The balance of energies would collapse, like a broken Taiji. It had to be two or four, no less. It was a technique that far exceeded the limits of the Demigod Tier.

“Guh...!”

Though his body was sturdy enough to shrug off augmented sword energies without leaving more than a scratch, now he was bleeding. His skin split, muscles tore, and bones cracked. Any ripple in his mental focus immediately manifested as physical damage.

It was the unity of the Three Treasures, namely the essence, energy, and spirit.

Thanks to the awakening of his Dragon Heart, Leonard’s physical strength had been elevated to the upper echelons even among Demigod Tier beings. His reinforced body allowed him to endure more of the backlash from the strain on his Mindscape—but only to a certain extent.

—Enough! Any more, and you’ll die!

Before the warning could fully leave the mouth of Ancestor Cardenas, the four strands of divine energies shot back into Leonard’s body. The swords that had contained the Four Symbols crumbled into dust, not lasting more than a few minutes despite being famed swords.

The Four Guardian Deities. In ancient times, each would’ve been considered on par with a Great God–level entity. Gathered together, they could easily form the foundation of a myth, much like the Three Chief Gods of Olympus. Representing the cardinal directions and seasons, they symbolized the structure and cycle of the cosmos itself. Naturally, no mere physical vessel could withstand such power for long.

“...The Yellow Dragon still eludes me.”

More pressing than anything was establishing the Yellow Dragon—the entity that could unify the Four Symbols. That was why Leonard had arrayed all Four Symbols in their respective directions, hoping to gain insight. But it yielded no results. Just occupying the center didn’t give rise to the Yellow Dragon.

—It’s frustrating that I can’t assist you directly. If only the outline of my original body hadn’t faded so completely...!

Ancestor Cardenas let out a sigh of deep regret. She couldn’t help but curse her own weakened state. Though little more than a lingering remnant of a soul, she never once regretted walking the same path as Ragna. Who would have thought that the curse from her past—when she’d been stained with the sin of kin-slaying—would one day shackle her descendants?

Leonard was the one to halt her self-reproach.

“Even as a fragment of yourself, you’ve continued to protect this world. As not just a descendant but also a martial artist, I would be ashamed if I wasn’t grateful and demanded more.”

With that, Leonard drew forth another set of four swords, circulating his internal energy once again. Until he could find the key to the deification of the Yellow Dragon, he had no intention of letting up on himself.

“Please, watch over me. I won’t disappoint you, neither me nor anyone else of this house.”

—...Indeed. Perhaps watching over you all, believing in you, is the role I should play as your ancestor.

Ancestor Cardenas smiled—part proud, part wistful—and nodded. Three years. That was how much time remained before she, too, would finish her final role.