Taesan had now completed four of the prophecies. Only one remained. Bardray surveyed the burning forest with a hint of disdain.

“Elves… Such an ancient race, and yet so dull,” he muttered with indifference, turning his back.

“Let’s go back,” he said, ignoring the murmurs of resentment and hatred from the elves behind them.

As they returned to the imperial capital, the specter spoke softly to Taesan, a faint trace of bitterness in its voice, though its anger seemed somewhat subdued.

“[I begged them to make a concession, willing to risk everything, but the elves refused, mocking me and barring my way.]”

“Is that why you failed to fulfill the prophecy?” Taesan asked.

“[Not exactly. In the end, I mobilized the entire empire’s strength to raze the forest. Although the cost was high, I managed to fulfill the prophecy. But by then, too much time had passed, and the plan had already gone awry.]”

The specter had, indeed, cleared the fourth prophecy but had failed in achieving the final one.

Soon, Bardray came to visit.

“So, only the last prophecy remains. This is going faster than I expected.”

Bardray had thought it might take months, but it had only taken two days to complete the fourth prophecy. Impressed, he said, “You remember the last prophecy, I assume?”

“To retrieve the fragment of a god from the sacred site, right?”

“Yes,” Bardray nodded. “The sacred relic of Ligrit, the God of Regret, is kept by that religion. We need it to fulfill the prophecy.”

Taesan pondered this for a moment before asking, “The God of Regret?”

“Yes, an ancient religion. We’ve already sent word, though as you’d expect, they didn’t even bother to respond,” Bardray replied, unsurprised. After all, a relic of divine origin was being guarded with zeal, and although it was for the sake of saving the world, the idea of it being handed over easily was unthinkable.

“It’s a religion with a lot of fanatics. This could take some time,” Bardray continued, gesturing to Taesan. “This time, you’ll have to go alone. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you. I was curious to see what a divine sanctuary looks like myself.”

“Understood.”

Bardray was busy preparing the soldiers and knights, certain of the impending Demon King’s invasion. With a word of thanks, he left Taesan.

Left alone, Taesan spoke to the specter.

“Is that why you seemed so wary of the God of Regret?”

“[Yes. I’ve never seen the God of Regret within the labyrinth. The 72nd floor I cleared had a different deity altogether. But I did encounter that god outside the labyrinth.]”

The fifth trial centered on Ligrit, the God of Regret. The specter had been unable to complete it.

“[A god with a cruel sense of humor, truly.]”

The next day, Taesan set out for the holy site of the God of Regret.

The sanctuary was located far from the Cabarte Empire, on the opposite side of the continent.

“[On the way, could you visit a place I mention?]” the specter requested.

“A place?”

“[Yes. There’s someone I want to see.]”

It was rare for the specter to ask Taesan for anything. Taesan agreed.

He spread the wings of a fairy and flew toward the sanctuary.

At the end of his journey, Taesan arrived at a towering mountain, its peak obscured by clouds.

“[This is the place,]” the specter murmured. Taesan flew to the top of the mountain.

There, above the clouds, stood a small hut. A single presence could be sensed inside.

“Who’s there?” a stern voice rang out.

An elderly man, clearly very old but wielding a sword, emerged from the hut.

The old man was strong.

In Taesan’s estimation, he was stronger than those who had claimed to have reached the pinnacle of skill at the center of the world.

“[Master,]” the specter muttered softly.

The old man squinted at Taesan.

“…A descendant of Cariat? I don’t know why you’re here, but leave.”

The old man charged forward, his fist aimed at Taesan’s chest with impressive speed.

Taesan moved quickly, catching the fist. The old man immediately shifted his stance, aiming a kick at Taesan’s temple.

Tilting his head to dodge, Taesan countered with a powerful punch that sent the old man flying through the air.

“!”

Landing on his feet, the old man quickly drew his sword.

As they clashed, Taesan noticed something familiar in the old man’s swordsmanship—movements similar to those the specter had once used.

After a final strike, their swords clashed and separated, and the old man’s breath steadied as he studied Taesan.

“…Who are you?”

“I am one who has earned the title of hero,” Taesan replied.

The old man’s eyes widened as Taesan lowered his sword.

“Are you Bardray’s teacher?”

---

“Listen,” the old man said, handing Taesan a battered teacup filled with nothing more than plain water.

“In a hut this old, did you really expect tea?”

The old man gulped down the water, setting the cup down with a curious look at Taesan.

“What’s your connection to that fellow?”

His connection to the specter. Taesan considered his words carefully before responding.

“We’re friends.”

“A prince and a descendant of Cariat, friends? Strange.”

The old man tilted his head, then continued.

“I saw hints of my swordsmanship in your movements. The only one I’ve ever taught it to is that rascal, so I’d say you’re telling the truth.”

Taesan’s swordsmanship was based on the specter’s Storm Scar technique. And this old man, whom the specter called “Master,” bore similar movements.

“Is that brat already skilled enough to teach others?”

“A lot has happened. Did you also teach Bardray swordsmanship?”

“In a way,” the old man replied curtly. “The young fool climbed all the way up here, demanding I teach him. He said imperial swordsmanship wasn’t enough. No amount of beating or scolding could make him leave, so I finally gave in and taught him a few things. Ever since then, he’s called me his master and clung to me. A bothersome lad.”

The old man grumbled.

The Storm Scar technique was common imperial swordsmanship, something any knight of the empire could learn, and not particularly esteemed. However, the specter’s version of Storm Scar had evolved through his experiences in the labyrinth, becoming a high-level technique recognized as elite swordsmanship.

The old man before Taesan seemed to be one of the people the specter had met and learned from.

“If he’s got a pupil now, he should have mentioned it. Ungrateful brat.”

A hint of disappointment laced the old man’s voice.

Taesan asked, “How long did you spend with Bardray?”

“About three years. He left when his time ran out.”

Three years—a more than sufficient time to grow fond of someone. The old man sighed and rubbed his back, muttering under his breath.

“That brat left this old man here, living a life of luxury in the empire. When I see him again, he’s in for it.”

“[You wouldn’t go to him even when he offered to bring you back,]” the specter chuckled.

After exchanging small talk, the old man, seemingly pleased with Taesan’s stories, mumbled, “Perhaps it’s time I pay him a visit.”

As Taesan prepared to leave, the old man looked at him.

“Did Bardray ever mention me?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“…I figured as much. I was never a good teacher to him. I’m not skilled at caring for others. I beat him and even forgot to feed him at times. I wasn’t there when he cried from loneliness.”

The old man’s face grew solemn.

“He has every right to resent me. In fact, I’m sure he does. I’m honestly… a bit afraid to see him again.”

“[Master…]”

The specter’s voice trembled slightly at this new side of the old man.

“You said you’re his friend, so I ask you a favor. Bardray is a sensitive soul, easily swayed by emotions, and not the best at questioning others. Someday, that might bring him great trouble.”

The old man placed his thin hand over Taesan’s and looked at him with an expression full of warmth and concern.

“Please, watch over him.”

The specter was silent.

---

After leaving the mountain, Taesan continued his journey to the holy site.

As he traveled, he passed a small lake, prompting the specter to speak.

“[After about a month living with my master, he brought me to this lake. I didn’t understand the reason back then… but now, I realize he was trying to show he cared.]”

“Did you meet him again after that?”

“[No. When I went looking for him after the Demon King’s arrival, he had already passed away.]”

The specter fell silent once more.

Finally, Taesan reached the sanctuary.

A faint aura of divine power covered the entire area.

Amidst that aura were the worshippers of the God of Regret, their gaze filled with hostility.

“So, a lowly unbeliever has come,” a rotund man with an elaborate robe sneered. Compared to the other clergy, his garb marked him as

 the leader here.

“I am the pope of the glorious Ligrit, the God of Regret.”

He sneered with disdain.

“How dare you—a filthy unbeliever—set your sights on the holy relic! Such insolence!”

The pope continued berating Taesan for his blasphemy, all while preaching about the God of Regret’s divine virtues, his omnipotence, and how humanity must follow him.

Taesan paid him no mind.

He simply observed.

The sanctuary emanated a faint divine barrier. It protected the sanctuary and shielded those within it, fueled by the faith of the worshippers inside. Their devotion subtly reinforced the power of the barrier.

By the time Taesan reached the inner sanctum, he had a clear understanding.

“I could create something like this.”

It was manageable. This divine aura, which Ligrit had lightly placed centuries ago, was maintained through the faith of his followers. Taesan could easily replicate something similar.

He placed his hand on the divine barrier.

It resisted, pushing back against Taesan.

Though crude, it was still divine power. Even with Taesan’s strength, it seemed nearly impossible to break without the permission of those within.

Finally, Taesan looked up at the pope, who continued his fervent sermon. Taesan interrupted him.

“If you refuse, this world will be destroyed.”

“Better that than desecrating the holy relic! I’d sooner see this world perish and return to our god’s embrace than have it defiled by mortal hands!”

The pope’s words dripped with fanaticism and twisted fervor.

Seeing reason was futile, so Taesan ignored him.

“Is this where you were stopped?” he asked the specter.

“[Yes. This is a place of the divine. I tried everything to break through, but the barrier was unwavering. That man told me to stand here and witness the world’s destruction for daring to covet the divine relic.]”

The pope’s prophecy had been fulfilled.

The specter had tried desperately, devising countless methods to break through.

But before he could succeed, the Demon King arrived.

“[By the time I returned to the empire, my family, my beloved… everyone was dead. Even the empire had fallen. I was trapped here, helplessly watching everything I cherished crumble.]”

The specter’s sorrowful voice echoed. Taesan raised his hand.

“It was your trial, so I doubt he’d object if I break it.”

Taesan summoned divine power. A radiant golden aura enveloped him.

“What?” The pope faltered, sensing the overwhelming aura emanating from Taesan, far beyond mortal comprehension.

Taesan’s divine aura clashed with Ligrit’s barrier, causing cracks to form. The pope’s twisted smile faltered, his confidence crumbling.

The protective barrier surrounding the sanctuary shattered, the pope’s face contorting in horror.

“S-such power!” he stammered, watching as the shield of the god that protected them dissipated.

Desperately, the pope shouted, “Priests! Show your faith! Display your devotion to the god!”

The priests began chanting hymns, infusing the barrier with a slight boost.

But it wasn’t enough.

Their mortal faith—barely hundreds—couldn’t stand against Taesan’s strength. His divine aura overwhelmed and shattered the sanctuary’s barrier, enveloping them in his radiant presence.

Shards of divine energy scattered, and the priests coughed up blood, collapsing to the ground. The pope wasn’t spared, kneeling in anguish as the divine shield crumbled.

“H-how…” he stammered, staring in terror as the divine presence of Ligrit vanished, replaced by Taesan’s aura.

“It worked, as expected,” Taesan murmured, ignoring the pope.

Within the inner sanctum, he found a small stone fragment, unassuming in appearance yet brimming with divine power.

Taesan grasped it, and the godly energy flowed into his sword.

“[You have obtained Ligrit’s fragment.]”

“[With the fulfillment of the prophecy, the accumulated powers within Cabarte’s relic begin to coalesce, imbuing it with law-like forces.]”

Taesan marveled at the newfound power within his sword, far exceeding his expectations.

At that moment, the world trembled.

On the other side of reality, something immense was descending upon the world.

Glancing in its direction, Taesan departed.

---

Upon returning to the empire, Taesan was greeted by Bardray, who was directing the knights.

“The prophecy… it’s been fulfilled?”

Taesan nodded, and Bardray let out a triumphant cheer.

“It’s finally complete… The world can be saved.”

He clenched his fist, turning to the knights and shouting, “Hear me, knights of the empire! The Demon King is coming! A force that will bring ruin to the world and threaten our empire! Rise, and fight to protect all that we hold dear!”

The rallying cries of the knights filled the air.

From that point on, everyone prepared for war. Grim determination marked their faces as Bardray made alliances with neighboring kingdoms, busy with diplomatic efforts.

Taesan had little to do.

It seemed the Demon King would take some time to arrive, as if waiting for this final preparatory phase. Taesan observed the people’s preparations with interest.

“[It’s different this time,]” the specter muttered softly.

“[Everyone is filled with hope, moving with purpose… It’s nothing like when I was here.]”

The specter had never seen such sights—this scene of unity and hope he’d failed to protect.

“[Is this what the God of Regret wanted to show me?]”

“Do you regret it?” Taesan asked.

“[Of course I do,]” the specter replied bitterly. “[I want to turn back time. I still can’t accept it. But… I’m already dead.]”

The specter had failed, not once but twice.

He could have been more cautious and bold in fulfilling the prophecy. He could have cleared the labyrinth, buying enough time to turn back fate.

But the specter hadn’t done so.

As a lost soul, hoping for another chance would only seem pathetic.

“[It’s all over now… completely.]”

The specter finally seemed to reconcile with its fate.

Time passed, and eventually, Levanthia came to visit Taesan.

“The mighty hero has arrived,” she greeted, smiling.

“Lady Levanthia. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He’s been quite busy, you know. He hasn’t had much time for me, and I was starting to get a little bored.”

Levanthia glanced at Taesan, full of admiration.

“It’s incredible how quickly you’ve fulfilled the prophecy. Perhaps it’s the power of a true hero’s bloodline?”

“It wasn’t too difficult.”

“Oh, you’re so humble,” she chuckled. “He mentioned to me once, you know… If not for you, the prophecy might never have been fulfilled.”

She spoke of Bardray, her gaze filled with affection.

Taesan asked, “Do you love him?”

“Yes,” Levanthia answered without hesitation, her face calm and unwavering.

“I love him dearly. I want to spend the rest of my life by his side.”

As she spoke, her hand moved gently over her stomach, as if cradling something precious within.

“[Ah…]”

The specter was so shaken that its ethereal form wavered. Despite its lack of a physical body, its emotions were laid bare.

Levanthia smiled softly, looking slightly embarrassed.

“This is our little secret, alright?”