Pick Me Up Infinite Gacha! Novel - Chapter 339
Chapter 339 – The Sword Waiting to Be Drawn (4)
<Episode 10 of Aaron’s Parallel Story>
***
The man squinted his eyes.
His hands flipped through the pages faster.
<The king’s mission was singular.>
>To end the chaos era and usher in the era of light.>
>He wielded two swords, cutting through the darkness, swallowing tears, and bringing forth laughter.>
The language was quite difficult.
The man had to make an effort to deduce the meaning.
‘I suppose it means the king sent his subordinates to kill monsters and villains.’
Monsters devouring humans.
Humans distrusting each other.
Nature turning into a constant calamity that hurt humans.
‘Isn’t it exactly like now?’
The man smiled disdainfully.
<The king bore it.>
>He carried death, sorrow, and tears.>
>On his shoulders rested the weight of all, but he never gave up moving forward.>
>He was the one who bore the burden.>
>He was the one who forged destiny.>
>Reid, stubborn and closed-minded, learned concession at the king’s side, and his sword soon changed destiny.>
>Kion, ruthless and selfish, learned compassion at the king’s side, and his sword soon paved the way through destiny.>
What a mess.
The man continued reading, running his fingers over the words.
Most of the book was filled with metaphors and poetic expressions, making it difficult to deduce the details.
But the man didn’t stop reading.
Something within him propelled him.
<Thus, finally, the era of chaos came to an end, and the era of light and humans began, bestowing eternal glory upon the noble king and the two heroes.>
He closed the last page of the book.
The early morning had passed, and the morning was approaching.
The story of the king and the two heroes.
The four books the old man had brought formed a collection.
The next day.
The man sought out the old man.
When the old man, who was sweeping the hallway floor, saw him, he smiled widely.
«Have you finished reading them?»
«Who wrote those books?»
«It can’t be said that it was anyone in particular. We just compiled and adapted the myths of our era. From your reaction, it seems they interested you.»
«Do you have more?»
The old man just smiled, so the man frowned and tossed a gold coin.
«Oh, thank you very much!»
«Find them and bring them to me. Anything similar will do.»
«I will.»
The old man fulfilled the man’s wish and soon brought him more books.
Sometimes he read in his room, sometimes in front of everyone while they trained.
The story of the king and the knights.
There were many books, but they followed a monotonous pattern.
A wandering knight encounters the king, discovers his talent, and saves the world from crisis.
«This is called chivalric literature.»
The old man smiled every time he handed him a book.
«Isn’t it noble? The kings and knights in that literature were our role models to follow.»
The old man nostalgically spoke about the past.
He was right.
The knights in the stories were noble and just.
They didn’t overlook injustice, saved the weak, and were loyal to the king, fulfilling their duty.
The same went for the king, who ruled wisely and loved his people.
Even the subjects were like that.
Despite living in poverty and hardship, they trusted each other, helped the knights, and revered the king.
Everyone loved and trusted each other.
They were the light and hope of the human world.
That’s why the man soon lost interest in chivalric literature.
«They said they changed destiny.»
Late in the night.
The man went to the empty training ground and unsheathed his old iron sword.
Being able to carry weapons at any time was one of the privileges of a high-level gladiator.
«Does this sword… change destiny?»
Swoosh.
The white blade appeared.
He extended the sword under the moonlight.
According to the story of the king and the two heroes, this was the sword that changed destiny and overcame fate.
«Where is that?»
The man murmured.
His voice was full of skepticism.
The straight blade gleamed blue under the moonlight.
With this sword, he had fought in numerous battles, always winning.
According to chivalric literature,
His sword and blade were the path to forging destiny and light.
But the man saw something else.
The sword was covered in blood and bits of flesh.
Painful screams and curses of the victims before dying.
‘Is this forging destiny?’
Don’t make me laugh.
This is just a tool.
A tool for killing.
This sword inflicts pain, provokes screams, and above all, is made for killing.
For a moment, he was caught in a fantasy.
When he read the story of the king and the two heroes, he saw hope.
That his innate talent and bloodied sword could have some meaning.
But soon he realized.
There’s no king with a mission in this world.
There are no noble knights.
There are no good subjects.
Just yesterday, he saw it.
A defeated gladiator conspired to ruin his opponent.
Perhaps he thought he had no chance of winning cleanly.
The gladiator accused of treason shouted as he was dragged away.
He would probably die after infernal torture.
He saw the malicious smile of the accuser.
Where is the nobility and goodness here?
Nothing special.
These things were common in his life.
From the start, he was abandoned by his parents and lived as a gladiator slave.
Since childhood, he had seen how people betrayed and killed each other for a piece of bread or a sip of water.
‘Stories are just stories.’
Stories are not the truth.
They were invented from the start.
The truth is this.
Swoosh.
The sword returned to its sheath.
He hated his talent.
Time kept passing.
He fought in two more battles and survived, solidifying his place as a high-level gladiator.
His only pastime was reading.
He lost interest in chivalric literature, but the books about the bygone human era helped him pass the time.
‘How stupid.’
As he read about the human era, he understood why it had ended.
Basically, humans were no match for the White Demons.
The White Demons looked human, but their strength was like a bear’s and their agility like a leopard’s.
Their sharp teeth and strong jaw were like a crocodile’s.
Their long claws could cut hard wood like butter.
Moreover, they reproduced and grew rapidly, two White Demons could become thirty in fifty years.
In the past, even in the human era, the White Demons existed.
But the reason humans lost their honor and became cattle wasn’t due to losing the war against the White Demons.
It was due to internal conflicts.
Numerous warlords proclaimed themselves kings and waged wars among themselves, destroying the civilization they had built.
In that void, the White Demons infiltrated, and thus, without humans realizing it, their era came to an end.
It was a pathetic end.
The human era.
The White Demons were considered less than beasts.
Although they looked human, their nature was extremely violent, they enjoyed blood and flesh.
What prevented them from ruling was their inability to create civilization.
The city where the man lived was magnificent.
In the center was a luxurious palace, surrounded by mansions of high society, and beyond were numerous houses and streets like a spider’s web.
Around the city were silver walls that protected it from external threats.
But the city did not belong to the White Demons.
They had only killed and usurped the owners.
They had the ability to destroy but not to create, so they lived as parasites in the destroyed human civilization.
Using humans as cattle and slaves.
Thud.
The man closed the book on the White Demons.
The fall of humans was their own fault.
There was no need to feel pity.
«……»
The man stared ahead.
In the moonlit night.
The old man watched him.
«Did you enjoy the book?»
«Do you have something to say to me?»
«After reading so much, you must know our history.»
The old man, always smiling mischievously, had a very serious expression.
The man’s eyes turned cold.
«If you have nothing to say, leave.»
«Can I ask you a question?»
«……»
«Throughout all this time, I’ve run back and forth to get you books. Return the favor a bit.»
The man spoke after a brief moment of reflection.
«Say what you want.»
«Thank you.»
The old man cleared his throat.
«Why don’t you master the sword?»
«……»
«I’ve seen your fights. You’re incredible. I envy you. If I had had that talent…»
The old man revealed his true feelings, hidden for decades.
«And at the same time, I thank the twin goddesses. That they haven’t abandoned humans.»
«What are you saying?»
«I believe in you. Seeing you made me believe. With your power… you could end the era of the White Demons.»
The old man said.
«Master the sword. I ask it of you.»
«……»
«I’m not asking you to do it for others. Do it for yourself. For your own benefit. But don’t wait for death.»
«Wait for death? Me?»
«You know how gladiators end.»
In this city, a gladiator’s life.
The stronger they became, the more victories they accumulated, the longer they lived.
But there was a limit.
If they became too strong, they were eliminated.
For the White Demons, gladiators were just entertainment.
«No matter how much you hide your power, it will eventually be discovered. And there will only be death. Don’t you know?»
«What does it matter? My life and death are decided by me. It’s none of your business.»
«If you master the sword, if you become stronger, you could survive. You could win your freedom. Don’t you want that?»
The old man shouted desperately.
«Do you really want to waste your life?»
«……»
«I know. I know your nobility.»
«Nonsense.»
«I’ve seen you fight many times. You don’t fight to kill your opponent. You fight to save them…»
The old man fell silent.
The sword gleamed before his neck.
The man spoke softly.
«Don’t say any more nonsense.»
A drop of blood ran down the old man’s neck.
«I’ve shed a lot of blood with this sword. To survive. Don’t disguise my deaths with those words.»
«You…»
«Was that human era you mention so noble? Did everyone laugh and rejoice?»
«……»
«I don’t care what dream you live in. Don’t project your dirty illusion onto me.»
The sword returned to its sheath.
The old man touched his neck.
Blood dripped from his wrinkled skin.
«I understand.»
The old man murmured.
«Don’t appear in front of me anymore. I’m tired of reading.»
«I’ll heed your warning. So be it.»
«Good.»
The old man limped away into the shadows.
The man didn’t bid him farewell.
«To you, I’m just a disgrace.»
«What do you mean?»
«But you’re wrong.»
«……?»
«It’s not an illusion. It’s faith.»
The man looked at the old man.
But he couldn’t see his figure in the shadows.
«The sword is here, but where is the king?»
The old man’s lament echoed in the moonlit night.