Translator: CinderTL
Roland's head snapped up, his pupils contracting violently from the searing pain and shock.
Less than ten steps away, Van Buren stood completely unharmed.
His gleaming silver armor still radiated a cold, metallic luster, without a single scratch. His golden hair hung perfectly in place over his shoulders.
He hadn't moved an inch. Even his stance was identical to when the battle had begun.
It was as if the brutal scene Roland had just witnessed—Van Buren's severed head, his kneeling form—had never happened.
The crimson eyes that had previously held a cold, judgmental gaze now carried a complex expression tinged with curiosity, an unutterable meaning, and even...
A hint of fear?
The holy knight observed Roland's disheveled and pained state, slowly lowering his clenched fist.
"Truly remarkable, Mr. Roland," Van Buren said, his voice no longer perfectly calm but carrying a subtle tremor. "Especially that final sword strike... You utilized strength, timing, and the environment to their absolute limits. The sheer killing intent and destructive force behind it even made me feel a tangible threat within my territory of will."
He shook his head gently, his tone filled with admiration.
"If I hadn't withdrawn at the last moment, as the creator of this domain, and voluntarily severed the connection... I might have truly been cut to pieces by your sword. However..."
Van Buren's tone shifted, the scrutiny in his crimson eyes finally receding, replaced by a sense of relieved confirmation.
"You are not the acquaintance I knew."
"Though his strength far surpassed yours, he never possessed such... fluid, almost instinctive mastery of the blade."
"Your understanding and application of weaponry have reached perfection. Such skill can only be forged through countless life-and-death battles—it is unique. Even in my time, such mastery was rare."
Van Buren bowed slightly, his movement carrying the elegance of an ancient noble.
"I was mistaken, Mr. Roland. I rashly involved you in this dangerous trial, nearly causing a grave error. This is my fault."
Roland's mind was still consumed by searing pain and confusion, but Van Buren's clear words and sincere apology eased his taut nerves slightly.
He remained on guard, his eyes fixed on the unfathomable holy knight before him, awaiting further explanation.
"As a token of my apology, and to make amends for my transgression..." Van Buren's voice deepened, becoming solemn and weighty.
"I now possess nothing of value. Even this temporary vessel is on the verge of collapse due to the power I recently displayed. The only thing I can offer as compensation is a fragment of understanding regarding the essence of strength—something you should have witnessed earlier."
"That ability is called the territory of will, or more commonly, the 'domain.'"
"It is not inherited through bloodline, nor can it be bestowed by external forces. Instead, it is the ultimate sublimation and manifestation of a transcendent professional's will, soul traits, and understanding of the world's laws. It is one of the keys to ascending to higher realms."
He paused, a flicker of recollection crossing his eyes.
"Even in my era, those who truly awakened their own domains were as rare as one in ten thousand."
"The form, rules, and power of each domain are utterly distinct, depending entirely on its creator. It represents a state of being, an authority that imprints one's will onto reality itself."
As he spoke, Van Buren raised his right hand, and a point of pure, soft white-gold light materialized at the tip of his index finger.
This light was no mere energy; it radiated a profound, awe-inspiring aura.
"This is but a fragment of my understanding regarding the territory of will and the manifestation of laws. While I cannot directly grant you the ability to awaken a domain, perhaps it can illuminate your path, offering a humble guide when you truly reach that threshold."
Before his words had fully faded, the white-gold light seemed to come alive, drifting gently toward Roland before sinking into his forehead.
In the next instant, an indescribable sensation surged through Roland's mind.
It wasn't a massive influx of knowledge, but rather a profound, esoteric "concept" taking root and sprouting in the depths of his consciousness.
In that fleeting moment, he seemed to glimpse countless fragments of bizarre spaces, each constructed from different wills and laws.
Some burned as hot as a furnace, others were as cold as eternal night, some teemed with vitality, and others lay barren and lifeless.
He sensed the fundamental bedrock of their existence.
A pure and powerful force, rooted in self-will and a profound understanding of the world's rules.
Though hazy and indistinct, like seeing flowers through mist, it had undeniably pushed open a door to a new realm for him.
The intense headache seemed to have eased considerably after the platinum light merged with him.
Roland slowly opened his eyes, feeling the heavy, infinitely potential-filled "seed" stirring deep within his consciousness, his heart churning with emotion.
This seemingly "futile" and even devastating battle, which had left him battered and bruised, held a value far beyond his wildest imagination.
This insight into the "domain" was so precious, it would likely drive countless transcendent professionals to madness.
"It seems you are satisfied with this 'atonement'," Van Buren said, noticing the glint of light in Roland's eyes as he bowed slightly.
"Then, if you'll excuse me, I shall take my leave."
The holy knight turned toward the door.
Just as the door was about to close, he paused as if remembering something and added:
"By the way, Mr. Roland, the battle within the territory of will, though it felt like an eternity to our senses, lasted less than an instant in real time."
His voice, still clear as ever, came through the crack in the door.
"As I mentioned earlier, it did not delay your urgent matters."
Before he could finish, the heavy door silently closed.
Roland pushed aside his distracting thoughts, his gaze fixed on the Magic Core not far away.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward to carefully examine the source of the dim, eerie light.
Yet after only a moment, his brow slowly furrowed.
The twisted surface of the core seemed to be covered by an impenetrable energy barrier.
Roland tried every conventional method he could think of, but found no way to breach it.
His eyes darted down to the base of the High Tower.
The battle had reached a critical juncture.
Human soldiers were barely holding on under the crushing weight of the magitech constructs and the frenzied onslaught of the Undead Corpses, their defenses teetering on the brink of collapse.
Further away, blinding flashes of energy clashed violently with swirling clouds of gray-black negative energy—the Lich locked in a desperate battle with the transcendent individuals.
Every moment, every second, meant the loss of lives.
He had no time left.
Gazing at the inferno raging below the High Tower, Roland held his breath, focused his mind, and channeled his magic. Orange-red flames began to wreathe his fingertips.
"Detonate it! It's the only way left!"
The thought burned in his mind, but the eerie, flowing barrier on the core's surface, and the vast, unstable energy contained within it, made his heart clench.
But what if this raging energy breaks free?
Unconsciously, he tensed every muscle in his body, lowered his center of gravity slightly, and his toes shifted an inch toward the door.
Just as the orange-red light was about to coalesce into an arrow...
"Mr. Roland, if you don't want to be torn to shreds by the magic turbulence..."
A slender, graceful figure had suddenly appeared not far from Roland.
"I'd advise you not to."
"Vanessa?"
Seeing the Purple-Haired Witch suddenly appear, Roland didn't dwell on her mysterious arrival due to the urgency of the situation. He asked directly, "Do you know how to stop this core?"
"Of course," Vanessa replied, shrugging with mild disinterest that the young man hadn't questioned her sudden appearance. "The key to stopping this core is currently in your hands."
Roland frowned at her words. Following the witch's gaze, he slowly looked down at his waist pouch.
"Are you talking about the control gem?"
(End of the Chapter)
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