Chapter 104: As If They Were One**
The boy's appearance was slightly different from the memory.

Black energy had infested his skin like veins, and the whites of his eyes were gone. The space where the sclera should have been was stained black, reminiscent of a demon.

But it didn't seem to inconvenience him. His rock-like skin and tough, sinewy muscles were the same as ever, and the way he held the sword was not at all awkward. The gaze with which he looked straight at Jinwoo was no different from the memory, either. Nor was the will contained within those eyes.

"Are you the… owner of that arm?" Jinwoo asked.

Instead of answering, the boy silently raised his sword and took a step toward Jinwoo.

Shhhk—

The distance between them had been considerable, yet it was closed in a single step. As a sword strike shot out in less than the blink of an eye, Jinwoo reacted reflexively.

‘Heavy.’

The sword was heavy. How could such a small body possess so much strength? It felt like he was swinging it lightly, yet the load on Jinwoo's hands was like blocking a massive iron ingot.

As soon as he parried the first strike, a second one flew in. When he blocked the second, a third came. Even after enduring three blows, the boy's sword strikes did not cease.

‘…It was like this in the memory, too.’

It was exactly like his recalled memory. The nature of the fight might be different, but what he did was the same.

He would pick up his sword when the sun rose and not put it down until it set. How many days had they spent exchanging blows, as if dancing under the moonlight?

Here, there was neither sun nor moon. It was a place where the flow of time could not be felt at all.

In the memory, they would stop fighting when the sun set or the moonlight faded. Rest was necessary, after all. Each time they briefly put down their swords, the boy would make a very disappointed face, as if he hadn't been satisfied despite having swung his sword for so long.

Perhaps that was why this space had no sun or moon.

[You block well, as expected.]

He was a little surprised by the sudden voice.

The boy had spoken. His voice was deeper than expected. It was the voice of a middle-aged man. It sounded slightly cracked, reminiscent of a parched, split rock. It was very different from the youthful voice in his memory.

"What? You can talk?"

[If the words are of value.]

"Are you saying my question earlier wasn't worth answering?"

[There is no need to explain what you can see for yourself.]

The boy spread his arms, revealing the Erosion covering his body. The tattoo-like patterns pulsed on their own, as if alive.

Rondar. One of the twelve Lords who had accepted a Seed of Erosion into his body. The Erosion spread across his body was one of the deeper, most ancient nets of Erosion. He was like a source of the very corruption that always caused so much trouble.

However, as mentioned earlier, his appearance was not unnatural. He had already assimilated with the Erosion and was using it freely as if it were his own energy.

"I heard that among the Lords, there are some who reject the Erosion…"

Some disliked the Seed of Erosion and tried to remove it from their bodies, or sought ways to seal it.

But Rondar didn't seem like that at all. On the contrary, he actively accepted the Erosion and wielded its power. In terms of type, he was similar to the Sky God.

[They are foolish. To reject the opportunity to awaken and ascend to a higher state.]

An opportunity?

"You mean you can go higher than you are now if you handle that power?"

[Of course. Don't you know that better than I do?]

The words were directed at Jinwoo, but also not at him. Rondar was seeing through Jinwoo to his past life.

"What do you mean, I know better?"

Rondar let out a smirk.

[If you do not know, then there is no reason for me to answer.]

Rondar twisted the locked sword upwards and struck it away with force.

For an instant, his power was concentrated, and the already heavy sword strike became unbearably strong. His sword struck Jinwoo's as if to sever it.

KANG!

And indeed, Jinwoo's sword was cleanly snapped and sent flying.

Jinwoo grimaced as if in trouble and leaped back to create distance. He was about to put the broken sword into his inventory and take out another one when…

‘Huh?’

He was sure the sword had broken, but when he looked again, it was perfectly fine.

What happened? It had received enough pressure to break, and he had actually felt it snap. And yet, the sword that should have been broken remained intact in his hand.

It was like an illusion. This space, the opponent before him, the fight itself—all of it.

[You've grown weak. Pitifully so.]

But the exchange of blades with the Lord had been real.

Watching Rondar toss out taunts, Jinwoo gripped his sword again.

"You've become a man of fewer words."

At Jinwoo's remark, Rondar smiled, pleased that Jinwoo's fighting spirit had not disappeared.

They crossed swords for a long time.

Yet, it was also very short, because time did not flow here. The absence of a sun and moon didn't just signify the Lord's preference; it meant that time in this space was stopped.

How many times had his sword broken during that time?

At first, he counted them one by one. He tried to feel the passage of time through this, but at some point, he stopped counting. Feeling the flow of time was meaningless. There was no need to count the days in a space that had been deliberately frozen.

Undeterred by his sword breaking over and over, Jinwoo continued to swing at the Lord.

‘This time, I'm the challenger.’

In his memory, the challenger had been Rondar. The Lord had challenged his past self countless times and had not stopped until his sword had worn down and vanished.

Jinwoo was only recalling the memory, so it didn't feel real to him, but how much time must have passed? How long did it take for one sword to wear down and disappear, and how many hundreds, or thousands, of swords had been made and consumed like that?

The sense of time he felt, even indirectly, was dizzying, but at the same time, there was a part of it that felt unfair.

‘Mine breaks, and his wears away.’

That difference felt unjust. Rondar had lost every time he fought his past self. But his sword had never broken.

On the other hand, Jinwoo was challenging the Lord, and his sword was breaking every time. The number of blows it could withstand might differ, but the outcome of it always breaking did not change.

Such battles continued endlessly. He had no idea when or how it would end.

Still, he had a goal. To not let his sword break.

‘If it just doesn't break, maybe I too can swing it until it wears away.’

That was the goal. In reality, it would be impossible. His stamina would never last until a sword wore away and disappeared.

But in this space, it might be possible. So he set it as his goal, hoping to recreate the battles of those days from his memory.

‘…Was it like this?’

Jinwoo moved his sword, recalling the memory. No matter how much of the memory he possessed, actually doing it was a completely different matter.

Perhaps because of that, he wasn't very satisfied with his own movements. Compared to his self in the memory, his movements were much cruder and less refined.

KANG!

And yet, with just that, Rondar's sword was deflected much more easily. It was a little different from before, when it had only broken helplessly.

[…]

Rondar must have felt it too, as his gaze became even more serious. The change was certainly very small, but it was a definite change.

The sword that had broken in one blow now endured two. Even when he tried to break it by putting more force into it, the sword flowed as smoothly as a cloud, deflecting his monstrous strength.

Two times became three, and three became four.

In the stopped space where the sun did not rise and not even the moon appeared, only Jinwoo's sword was changing.

Just like the image in his memory.

"Ugh."

Jinwoo let out a groan and straightened his back. When he looked up, a bright, full moon was hanging in the sky. He had no idea how long it had been since he had last seen the moon.

‘Has my sense of time gone strange?’

How long had he crossed swords with Rondar down there? He hadn't counted the days, so he didn't know. In the first place, there had been no sensation of days passing.

When he emerged, it was still night on the surface. The sky of the 3rd Floor was full of stars.

In Jinwoo's hand was a sword. It wasn't his usual white jewel sword, but one he had never seen before.

It was the massive sword Rondar had used to cut down the Moonlight Forest and the Red Cliffs. It was the Lord's Divine Object, which he had finally taken after crossing blades with him countless times in that stopped space.

At the last moment, the one whose sword had been taken had a face full of discontent.

Jinwoo thought he might spit out a curse at any moment, but surprisingly, he didn't. No, it wasn't surprising; the Rondar in his memory hadn't been foul-mouthed either.

—So, her prophecy was correct in the end. That it would circle back and find its master.

Her?

He wanted to ask who, but there was no time. As soon as the words were finished, the Lord's illusion crumbled into dust and disappeared. At the same time, that space also vanished without a trace.

Jinwoo carefully examined the sword, the only thing that remained, the only thing that had substance.

It had a texture he had never felt before in his life. Was the material special, or was the forging method unique? Or maybe both.

Its appearance was that of an ordinary sword, not much different from others, but the sharp aura it naturally emitted cut through everything it touched. He had thought the white jewel sword from Rona and the Sky Sword made by Bulkar were considerable masterpieces, but this sword was beyond comparison.

And it wasn't just its craftsmanship; he had also confirmed its actual performance.

‘This is the sword that cut through the Red Cliffs like paper.’

It was the sword that had effortlessly cut down the cliffs that had been unharmed even by Kalesian's breath. Of course, Rondar's swordsmanship was important, but the performance of the sword itself could not be ignored.

‘The name… I don’t remember it. Did it not have a name originally?’

There was no name for this sword in his recalled memory. He remembered everything from when the sword itself was made to when he held and wielded it, but he hadn't given it a particular name.

‘Maybe I’ll call it the Nebula Sword.’

Since it was a sword forged from the core of a star, a name like that seemed fitting.

It was time to go back. The liberation of the 3rd Floor was a success, and all of Rondar's influence had vanished.

‘I also got the other Divine Objects.’

He had obtained not only the Nebula Sword but several other Divine Objects, so there was no reason to remain on the 3rd Floor any longer. There were still some temples left, but it wasn't like he was going to invade them.

But before he left.

‘Just one thing.’

There was one thing he had to check. Jinwoo took out the Sky God's scabbard from his inventory.

A scabbard that, like the Nebula Sword, emanated the energy of Erosion. He carefully tried to sheathe the Nebula Sword in it.

‘A perfect fit.’

The two were a perfect match. It wasn't simply that their sizes were the same. In the first place, the Nebula Sword was the giant blade that had cut down the Moonlight Forest, so comparing sizes was meaningless.

The sword and the scabbard fit together as if they had been one from the beginning. Their energies intertwined, connecting and becoming complete.

‘So there was a reason he coveted the scabbard.’

Now he finally understood why Rondar had coveted the Sky God's scabbard and tried to take it.