Chapter 140 : Chapter 140

Translator: AkazaTL

Pr/Ed: Sol IX

***

Chapter 140 – The Temple (1)

“While we were lost, Monk Helen helped us. We were truly fortunate. Not only did he serve as our guide, but he also assisted us in finding you, Young Master.”

Though we had landed in the Sky Mountains—contrary to our original plan—our encounter with Monk Helen was a great blessing. Monks were martial artists who sought self-perfection, but in essence, they were still devotees of their faith. They were pious ascetics who would never ignore those in distress.

“As a humble servant of Goddess Revrua, I merely did what I ought to do. In reverence to Her will, which shines upon the world with grace, all Monks are bound to offer aid to those who face hardship.”

Monk Helen smiled kindly. He had volunteered to serve as our guide, holding a sacred torch in hand. Each time he swung it, a brilliant light spread forth, illuminating the path we were to follow.

More than that—the torch seemed to repel danger itself.

We hadn’t encountered a single one of the vicious plants, wild beasts, or other perils that were said to infest the outskirts of the Sky Mountains. Even the creeping, man-eating vines slithered away when the torch’s light touched them—as though frightened of it.

“What is that item, if I may ask?”

“It is the Torch of Serenity. A divine relic bestowed by Goddess Revrua to watch over Her servants who train within these perilous mountains. It reveals the righteous path even in unfamiliar lands and burns with a flame that drives away all that is wicked or dangerous.”

…Was there really such an absurdly miraculous artifact? If Helen’s words were true, then that torch would allow its bearer to reach any destination safely, no matter where they found themselves. I couldn’t help but covet it—a desire so strong that I almost wanted one for myself.

「Most of the precious treasures across the continent rest within the arms of the Orders that worship the Nine Goddesses and Seven Lords, young descendant.」

Sensing my gaze, Helen smiled.

“Would you like to have one?”

“To be honest… yes, I would.”

“Then when we reach the temple, I shall give you one.”

“Truly?”

“Yes, though I must warn you—it will not serve you as it serves me. A divine relic’s power depends on whose hand holds it. In the hands of a Monk who has prayed to Goddess Revrua for decades, it becomes a sacred treasure. But to a foreigner ignorant of the Sun’s doctrine… it would be nothing more than a slightly brighter torch.”

“Ah.”

Of course. It would have such limitations.

‘I suppose I’ll have to be content with the Sword of Gaia.’

Helen proved to be a reliable guide. As the ascetic of the Sky Mountains led the way, Seol Yoon and Tom approached me.

“But, Young Master—are you truly alright? The two of us were swept away by the falling earth and separated from the dragon, but you were right beside it, weren’t you? You weren’t harmed?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a relief. When the ground collapsed, we thought perhaps you’d—”

“I fought it and won.”

“…What?”

Tom blinked blankly at my words. Seeing the confusion on their faces, I briefly explained what had happened after we were separated: that the dragon we’d encountered was a young one, that I’d been fortunate enough to defeat it, and that I’d made it my slave by bargaining with its Dragon Heart.

“Heh.”

Tom gave a hollow laugh, as though he had just listened to a ridiculous tall tale. But when he looked at my face, he realized that I wasn’t joking. His expression hardened.

“Young Master.”

“Yes.”

“That was… a very dangerous thing to do.”

His tone shifted instantly.

“I’ve said this before—you do not understand dragons.”

I’d noticed it before as well— Whenever dragons were mentioned, Tom became strangely tense.

“Even a young dragon is still a dragon. Do you know what kind of vengeance they’re capable of? To make an enemy of one—it’s beyond reckless… far too dangerous.”

No, he wasn’t tense.

He was afraid.

“If you’re not careful, Young Master, you’ll vanish without a trace…”

Tom’s voice trembled.

“…Just as my homeland did, long ago.”

Homeland. At that word, I turned to him. But Tom quickly looked away.

“Your homeland?”

“…No, forget I said anything.”

“I’d like to hear about it, Tom.”

I’d heard fragments of Tom’s past before—the life of a caretaker who once dreamed of a sword with a soul. But Tom was old. A single story couldn’t encompass his whole life. And judging from his tone, the part of his past bound to dragons was the heavier one.

“…Later,” he said with a weary smile. “I’ll tell you later, Young Master.”

For some reason, I couldn’t press him further. The pain that old caretaker carried—I didn’t dare pry into it. As Tom fell silent, I heard something faint— Not from him, but from the blade hanging at his waist. It trembled as if begging to speak.

『Man…』

A voice filled with overwhelming intensity— One that held a power even deeper than that of 「Flight」. A voice that contained a life that could not be easily ignored. And I was certain.

『Man was not created to be defeated.』

Tom’s sword— That, too, carried a legend.

***

Following Helen, we soon reached the Monks’ temple.

Young acolytes were gathered before it, praying, while countless “Torches of Serenity” surrounded the temple grounds like a glowing fence. They were relics of the Sun Goddess Revrua, driving away all peril from the vicinity. It was those flames that turned this harsh mountain temple into a sanctuary.

At the temple’s center rose a towering pillar of flame that seemed to touch the sky. Its light was not fierce but gentle—radiating warmth rather than heat, like a mother’s embrace.

This was indeed a place where one could feel the presence of divinity.

“I’ve brought some travelers who were in distress.”

Monk Helen explained our situation to the other monks.

None of them rejected us or looked at us with suspicion.

They were purely good people—something I had never seen in the Iron Kingdom.

We were each given a room to rest in, and Helen told us we could stay as long as we needed.

“When you decide to depart, let me know. I’ll serve as your guide again. I have to visit the Empire anyway—to purchase supplies and pay a visit to the Order.”

Helen’s kindness never faltered. It was beginning to make sense why those who served the Nine Goddesses and Seven Lords were considered sacred beings worthy of protection. It was people like them—pure and good—who made the world better. Not those like me, who lived by the sword, obsessed with revenge.

“The Sky Empire isn’t far from here,” Helen said with a smile. “Four days on foot, perhaps—two, for ones as strong as you.”

When he left, I stood for a moment, watching the peaceful life of the temple. Soon the monks served us food—mostly vegetables, in accordance with the doctrine of the Sun.

Those who worshipped Revrua ate only the plants that grew by the Sun’s light—never the flesh of other living beings.

I had no complaints. The food was delicious enough, and it would be shameless to grumble when one was being fed freely.

As I filled my stomach with greens and herbs, one of the monks approached.

“Monk Helen told us you’re from the Iron Kingdom. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve come from a harsh land indeed.”

The monk half-closed his eyes and continued softly,

“Guests from the land of iron—you should consider staying in the Sky Empire for a while. Or, if you wish, remain here at the temple.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The Iron Kingdom’s situation sounds dire. There are rumors that war will soon break out.”

“War?”

“The capital’s walls fell to the elves’ assault, did they not? I’ve heard that the Machine Empire has declared war. Before the Blade Walls can be rebuilt, they plan to unleash their arcane soldiers to burn the capital to ash. A tragic thing indeed. All who live beneath the Sun deserve to see the light of tomorrow… yet they’ll be buried in meaningless sleep by the hands of those who crave power.”

War. A word impossible to ignore.

“The continent is in turmoil. The long peace seems to be ending. I can scarcely imagine it, living my whole life secluded in these mountains. It saddens me even when a wild beast dies—how unbearable it must be, when so many people perish. I can only pray that Goddess Revrua is with them, and that eternal daylight will shine upon their souls.”

“……”

“They say the Black Archipelago has sent its fleet, and that the Alliance is stirring. They speak of lofty reasons, but in truth, each nation is blinded by its own greed. It’s a scary thing. To think that wealth and land could ever outweigh the worth of a life beneath the Sun—surely, even the Goddess must weep.”

The storm sweeping across the continent was growing larger— Too vast for someone like me to intervene.

Yet… another question lingered.

“There’s something I wish to ask.”

“Please, ask freely.”

“If the Goddess weeps, and all beings beneath the Sun deserve to see tomorrow… then why does Goddess Revrua not save them Herself? Why does she simply watch as her creations suffer?”

“……”

“If She cannot act because of other gods, then why does She not at least warn them? Tell them to stop fighting, to live peacefully under Her sunlight? Why does she merely look on while people die, meaningless deaths in this cruel, sorrowful world of blades and spears?”

The monk fell silent.

As the quiet stretched, an elderly monk approached from behind him.

“A question of essence, I see.”

The old monk was blind—his eyes were pure white. He glanced toward me.

“‘Why does she remain a bystander?’ Countless believers have asked that question throughout history. ‘We give You our faith—why do You not reward us? Why do You merely watch as we die so wretchedly? What is the meaning of our devotion?’”

“…Has an answer ever been found?”

“Not yet. Many still accuse the gods of indifference, wondering if they even exist at all. Some mock us—saying that we are fools, chasing after faith while renouncing pleasure and joy, receiving nothing in return.”

“……”

“Your question is a good one. Even as the oldest Monk here, I cannot give a clear answer. If you ask why the gods do not grant salvation, all I can say is: only the gods themselves would know.”

The old monk smiled faintly.

“But you see, whether the gods exist or not, the weak still need something to lean on.”

“Something to lean on?”

“I was abandoned at birth—left at the gates of this Order. The kind monks here took me in, raised me, and taught me the doctrine of the Sun. I never resented my parents, never hated the world, never felt alone. I didn’t need to steal to survive. I was able to study what I wished, sleep in warmth, drink milk each night, and go to bed knowing I’d wake to another day’s light—with the Sun shining in my heart.”

“……”

“There are many children like me. Not every one of them can wield a sword or cast a spell. Not every one of them can survive through strength or violence. Hatred and wrath are too dark to carry for an entire lifetime. A heart abandoned or betrayed can still shine brightly when bathed in love and kindness. The Sun once said: ‘The brightest light is born from the darkest night.’”

His voice was quiet, yet it filled the air.

I looked at him.

“Everyone needs something to lean on. But that support only warms us—it doesn’t carry us. The Sun does not descend to earth to bring warmth to people. It merely shines where it is, keeping the world from falling into darkness. Under its light, it is we humans who must choose our own paths.”

“……”

“The Sun gives no answers. It only lets us see the world as it is. The Goddess will not grant salvation or happiness, nor will She reward us—for salvation is something we must find ourselves. Happiness, too, is something we create. We of the Order of the Sun do not seek heaven or divine rescue. We worship the Sun not to be saved by it, but because we hope one day to shine as it does.”

The old monk smiled kindly.

“You are a man of doubt, filled with vengeance. One who sees the world as flame and blade. I do not think you are misguided. Your life is yours to forge—and I simply hope you may yet find salvation within it. I only worry that you’ll be swept up in the great storm and crumble before you find your light.”

I was silent for a while.

“…That was a wise answer.”

“Merely a grand speech in humble words.”

“If it’s not too impolite—may I know your name?”

The old monk nodded gently.

“Buddha. That is what they call me.”