Chapter 13: Legacy

This might be the last time this earnest man sees his reflection in the mirror.
“I am Lee Eun-suk, also known as Sul Daon.”
Fractured whispers echoed in the confined space as shattered memories were pieced together.
The aged oath-bound knight, Sul Daon, gazed at his reflection with a mixture of confusion and bitterness.
Why only now, at this moment, did memories of his past life suddenly resurface? Why now recall his former existence as a human?
“Because your time has come.”
In the depths of fate, Sul sensed malice—as if destiny itself was cursing him.
“Is that so? My time has come…”
Indeed, it no longer mattered; there was no difference anymore.
At this moment, the path had reached its end; there were no other choices left.
Then, what difference did it make whether he was Lee Eun-suk, the traveler from another world, or Sul, the rebellious knight?
He looked at his reflection and gave a bitter smile.
Now he understood why he had always harbored strange ideas, why dissatisfaction and anger had always burned within him, why the world felt so unjust...
“You damn bastard, you came too late.” If only he had awakened to his past life’s memories and knowledge sooner, perhaps there would have been other options.
“Were there really any options?”
No, it was useless. What choice does an individual have before the darkness engulfing the entire world?
No, it’s meaningful—this only strengthened his resolve to walk his chosen path, the path of the traitor… He laughed bitterly, as if it truly had no meaning because...
“I do not regret choosing this desperate road.”
No matter how many times he started over, no matter whether he possessed otherworldly knowledge, he would ultimately walk this same path.
Donning his armor and gripping the sword of judgment, the usually slick old knight wore a rare expression of solemnity.
Once again, he was setting out for battle, once again leading a crusade.
A century-long campaign might finally be reaching its conclusion.
“Your Excellency.” A young knight squire handed him gloves and a cloak, anxiety etched on his youthful face.
“Please take us with you.” Along the way, former paladins had hoped Sul would change his mind.
Even if they had lost their holy power and were destined to be cannon fodder, they begged to follow him.
“Do we still have a future?” Ordinary people behind the city walls, desperate victims of disaster, watched the man before them and pleaded.
The unease that had flickered in the mirror minutes ago had vanished. Before the knights and the populace stood a legend.
He was earnest justice, a protector of the weak, a scourge of evil.
The grand knight ascended the tower on the city walls, his gaze sweeping over the lands below.
Behind him were those he vowed to protect; ahead, an endless legion stretched out.
“I vow to fight for the weak.”
This man—never defeated, never wavering, never retreating—raised his right hand once more.
“I have done it. One hundred and twenty-seven years of countless battles, I have done it.”
His eyes turned northward, toward his former kingdom.
“My faith led me to fight for the law, to defend order.”
“I have succeeded.”
The blazing light shimmered on his longsword—radiance of faith, power of the oath, strength of protection... yet not the light of true belief!
“But now, my faith demands I slaughter the weak… Bah, spit!”
Under countless eyes, the old knight spat on the holy emblem of the scales, on the deity to whom he had pledged allegiance.
The legions besieging the city, the banners before the old knight—all bore the familiar symbol of the scales.
“Friends, brothers, we once believed in her… but now…”
His calm words were the deepest blasphemy.
“Our faith clashes with the most basic morality and justice. What purpose does such a damned faith still serve?”
The great villain spat defiance at the gods.
Before all eyes, the sacred scripture of law bound at his waist was torn apart.
The shredded pages, once embodiments of justice, fluttered like confetti over the walls.
He desecrated his own faith, desecrated his god.
“Rumble!” Suddenly, thunder rolled—what meaning had the deity’s wrath?
The drums of war sounded; the battle hymns spread.
The familiar scent of the battlefield filled the air, but this time the target was...
“Our enemy is the gods! The wicked god who created this tragedy, the tyrannical god of law, the Lord of Scales, and the decaying theocracy that has spawned countless disasters!”
His left hand wielded the longsword, his right bore the war banner, both unwaveringly pointed toward the northern sky.
“We are justice. Justice does not reside in corrupt law; it has always lived within our hearts!”
“March!”
The open gates released the last iron cavalry. Led by the oath-bound knights, they charged against the overwhelming legions.
Was there any hope of victory? Impossible... Most of their paladins had lost divine favor and power; only a few oath knights still held onto their holy strength.
Opposite them were legions at least ten times their number, backed by endless supply lines and even a true god.
This was a war doomed to fail.
Blood flowed endlessly. The rebel knights, mostly stripped of their holy power, fought with their oaths alone against comrades a thousand-fold their number.
It was a rebellion destined for defeat.
“I do not regret. I only regret not awakening sooner...”
The era’s strongest oath knight ultimately fell on the dunes.
He smiled bitterly, but never for himself.
Around him lay countless corpses… behind him, no one remained. The fully armed knights of judgment had sealed all escape routes.
He knew there was no way out. At least half of those surrounding him were warriors he knew and had trained—the strongest forces of the entire order.
For him, the faltering order had abandoned all other fronts.
Yet they looked on with complicated expressions at the end of their comrade, mentor, elder, master… this man who never yielded.
The old knight, missing an arm and a leg, weakly propped himself on the ground, his broken sword plunged into the earth still shining with purest light.
That was the purest holy light.
His vow with the weak.
He proved he had never betrayed the justice within his heart.
Even if he betrayed his god and faith, even if he carried countless arrows in his back, even if he was the first and greatest villain.
“Great villain.”
“Why betray us? The gods favored you enough.”
“She gave you power, gave you a peaceful life…”
“Law brings order, and order brings justice.”
Facing his advancing former comrades and their doubts, the old knight laughed.
“Law represents justice? Who said that? Which whore goddess?!”
Even with only his mouth still moving, the old knight remained the most dangerous villain.
“Who decreed that peasants must surrender ninety percent of their income, even during these years of famine?”
“Who decreed that even the seven cruelest sins cannot be judged upon the nobles of the church?”
“Who crushed countless uprisings, forcing the people to surrender their meager possessions in the name of healing disasters and atonement?”
“Who keeps the children of the lowborn as lowborn, and the nobles’ children forever noble... Who? Dare you tell me?!”
His desperate roar halted the knights of judgment circling him.
“Ask your own heart—is all this justice? What kind of justice is this?!”
In truth, all the knights knew well that all this was enshrined in the code of law.
“Law is the tool of rulers; if the rulers are evil, then the law is the most wicked of evils.”
Then the old man laughed.
“I think you’ve studied law so much you lost your humanity. Fools, look at me…”
He tapped his chest.
“Justice has never been above the law. It has always lived within our hearts. In the days to come, ask your hearts…”
“Enough!”
A sudden shout, followed by flames igniting everything.
The golden fire blazed with strength beyond mortal ken. The old man laughed joyfully amidst the divine flames.
Once again, he raised his broken sword.
He looked upward at the god’s avatar, finally forced to descend.
She was beautiful and pure, untouched by mortal dust, eyes closed as if unable to bear the world’s sorrow.
But if you cannot see it, does it cease to exist?
“Ha, that evil is worth fighting.”
The long-held strike finally had its chosen target.
The old knight stomped forward, his one remaining arm radiating the most dazzling, pure light.
When all the rays focused on a single point, came that familiar roar again!
“Purging Strike!”
It was a battle cry uttered countless times before, a slash aimed at evil, a strike wielded with life and will laid bare.
The blade became light, tearing the atmosphere and sky asunder.
“Boom!”
In the god’s flames, the laughing old knight gradually turned to ash.
Yet he still smiled.
As he said, he never regretted.
When the smoke cleared, all the knights of judgment stared in shock at the sight before them… the once flawless divine avatar now bore cracks.
On her sacred cheeks, wounds wept drops of blood; the web-like fractures made her once-beautiful face seem like a shattered mask or a broken doll.
“So, she too is… bleeding red…”
The old knight’s whisper lingered in the world.

The god whom the old knight deemed evil also bled.
Then… could she perish?
Mortals may eventually die, but his will and thoughts did not end here.
However, that was a burden beyond what a departed hero’s soul could bear.
His story, his life, ended here.
The dream shattered, a low voice recounted its own conclusion.
“This is the story of a fool, the end of an earnest idiot… Ha, he was truly useless, unable even to destroy a fragment of a god’s power. In the end, he failed to fulfill his vow to protect the weak.”
The figure appeared before Lee Eun, himself. Another Lee Eun-suk smiled as he recounted his own demise and helplessness.
“Earnest justice? At least that description fits.”
The memory playback was not yet finished.
The knights and legions had departed; the god’s avatar, after its hysterical outburst, returned to the heavens.
On that wasteland where knightly ashes mixed with divine blood, an ancient book floated.
It seemed to be recording something.
Lee Eun recognized the book well—it hung at his waist!
What he thought would end there… the book suddenly changed again.
Its open cover revealed countless shadows; the entire volume swelled abruptly.
Deformed flesh? Beast shapes with no escape? Remnants of heroic souls from history? At that moment, it seemed to be feasting.
Finally, as all returned to calm, nothing seemed to have changed…
The book vanished once more.
“Now, you know why I hate Lee Eun-suk, don’t you?”
Lee Eun shook his head, overwhelmed by so much information that he felt faint.
But what he saw was the knight’s figure growing ever more ephemeral.
His time was nearly over.
Lee Eun’s intuition told him this heroic soul was not the original being, but a fragment of a recorded spirit, a lost memory.
The true Lee Eun-suk? Perhaps he had moved on to the next phase of time, another life, or maybe he remained in the mirror…
“Will we meet again someday?” Lee Eun asked, half in a daze. He had so much he wanted to understand, but his heart already knew the answer.
“Maybe, but probably not in the way you understand.” The slippery voice still vague, yet bidding farewell.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You’ll know in time…” That malicious smile remained, but after some thought, he shook his head.
“Since this is a lesson, it wouldn’t be right as a senior to teach you nothing…” The middle-aged paladin’s exhausted expression betrayed his weariness. The awakened heroic memory was drawing to an end.
“Do you feel the boundless darkness? Do you feel your feet shackled? Do you feel the weight pressing from all sides?”
“No, I do not.”
“Adjectives, adjectives—social pressure, surrounding darkness. Do you truly feel nothing?”
Lee Eun recalled the dwarf’s pistol pressed to his forehead, the restless Will, this painful world—and fell silent.
“What I can teach you is to remember this darkness, this oppression, to endure, to suppress your rage until the time comes…”
The extremely hardened paladin spoke words almost uncharacteristically moderate.
“…When there is nowhere left to retreat, nowhere left to hide…”
“Raise your sword.”
The swordlight that ripped the sky, the strike that wounded a god, still stood before him.
“Can I do it?”
“Perhaps. After all…”
The figure in the shadow waved his hand, like a traveler about to depart.
“I am Lee Eun-suk, and you are Lee Eun-suk.”
[Training Mode Phase One complete. Please initiate Phase Two: Heroic Soul Inheritance...]
[Soul Power: Thousand-Faced Dragon activated.]
[Listen—the endlessly reincarnating dragon-serpent whispers through the ages.]
[Falsehoods are its newborn scales, one after another, covering the infinite body of the infinite dragon.]
[It can be the most wicked immortal, or the most devout saint.]
[The history of mortals is but sand flowing through its claws.]
[The epics of heroes are the tragicomedies that lull it to sleep.]
[Do not awaken it, unless you wish to see the world engulfed in flames.]
[Or unless you yearn for rebirth amidst the ashes of ruin...]