Soul of Searing Steel

And so, information as boundless as the sea surged as if it was a force of nature, the countless fragmented but memories that bore a fiery-hot sensation flashing before the warrior’s eyes.

It was the memory of a Saint.

At first, all was emptiness and as dark as the abyss. But the Saint’s spirit walked amidst the Chaos of nothingness, and so Joshua’s own followed it ahead, exploring the obscurity.

Though there was no end to Chaos, the starlight glinted, opening a path ahead and protecting the 103,000 pioneers. After an unknown period of time, the darkness scattered as the Saint finally found her target—a newborn world.

The Saint had walked for a long time without a hint of rest. She then pressed her hand on the mystical robes over her body and took it off. Runes then cascaded out of the robes as if an ocean was spilling out, forming a colossal net constructed from innumerable sacred markings and was large enough to cover everything. It released a light that could illuminate all things and drove the birth of this world. In seven days, the continents, the mountains, the oceans, the sun, and the moon took shape, and it was done.

Joshua could sense that the Saint’s spirit was immeasurably exhausted but was filled with delight at the same time. A world was shaped by her very own hand was certainly something worth being joyful over, and Joshua could her muttering to herself—a prayer that blesses the future of all life.

Amidst scattered fragments of memories, Joshua could see the Saint’s subsequent actions. To stabilize the entire continent and prevent earthquakes, she planted something resembling the seed of a plant in the center of the continent that would eventually be named Grandia. The seedling quickly rooted, germinated and then grew into a character the warrior was familiar with.

The larval form of the Majestic Mountain Titan Urbandy slumbered at the heart of the continent and grew, its lower body forming the base of the entire continent at the hastening of the Saint’s power, stabilizing and augmenting this world which had its entire growth accelerated.

While she sowed the seed of the titan, the Saint found a shepherd child in the surrounding plains. Perhaps it was fate or some manner of coincidence, the Saint smiled as she watched the rather clumsy boy learned her legacy and finally became her student.

She called him Akhar, the name of the Emperor who united the entire continent.

The name of the old knight.

*****

Time flew as if everything was just a dream.

A thousand years later, the Ulan Emperor and six Marshal Mages stood at the central square of their own capital. There were seven elevated platforms in that city square, each holding either a coffin or some ancient weapon and armor. In the entire city, everyone had followed a certain special order to stand at different corners of the city and form a tremendous magic circle.

As the force that assembled the power of millions of people thus started to chant the curses of resurrection, endless soul marks gathered and each ancient hero awakened from the extended pages of history.

The scenes soon ended with the awakening of the person inside the most ancient yet grandest coffin. As boundless specks of light condensed as if stars, the ancient Emperor opened his eyes.

Thus, darkness and deathly cold fog engulfed everything.

Even as Joshua witnessed all of it, nothing astonished him—whether it was the sudden darkness or cold presence of death.

Because he had now known the complete truth.

Drawing a deep breath, the warrior stared at the hazy cluster of light in his hand, his gaze complicated.

“Sage…”

Joshua now understood. He had received his answers for all his questions and doubts within the memory fragments left behind by the Celestial Saint. Whether it was the dragon-winged girls immeasurably stubborn attitude, Armand’s relief at his own death or the reality that the old knight Akhar Akyev had carried within his heart, he was now aware of it all.

The war against the evil gods—the traitors—the sinners—the punishment of the saints—the Celestial Saint’s pleading and the final punishment.

A hundred and three thousand sinners had been exiled and imprisoned within this newborn world. Whether living or dead, they would never gain reprieve due to the unique Steel Strength in the world of Grandia. For a thousand years, the soul of every life was converted into a mark, and like a matured grain the multitudinous souls hung between heaven and earth, awaiting their final judgment.

The rage of the Sage had never once died—his punishment was merely postponed to a thousand years later. As everything ended and the Death Shade calamity concluded, all would return to Void and Chaos, with only a hundred and three thousand brave ones who fought to the last receiving pardon.

Every remaining soul would thus be destroyed along with the world, turned into primordial tinder to perpetuate the long-dead Mycroft Continent.

Such a detailed plan—as expected of the Sage.

Grasping the cluster of light that was gradually heating as if about to ignite, Joshua felt as if someone was speaking right beside his ear.

Then, choose.

Choose.

The destruction of one world and the rebirth of another. Billions of souls are now in your hand—you are now a being who holds the fate of two worlds.

It was not an imagined sound—someone had definitely spoken.

The warrior looked up to find the Celestial Saint’s vague shadow before him. In the silent darkness of Chaos, the illusory image of the Saint named Cynthia Morningstar smiled at him and spoke with an utterly tranquil tone.

“It was my labor to collect the souls and the Initial Flame of this world, so that the Mycroft Continent could live on.”

“Heir to the Sage’s Legacy after a thousand years, my companion.” The elf who was existed along the world said with a voice brimming with compassion. “If you cannot choose, please allow me.”

“It was I who pleaded from the teacher to lead them to this world. It was I who allowed them to flourish and create a civilization on Grandia. That is why, if you cannot choose, allow me to give them a conclusion, and let all things fade away.”

*****

In the distant Mycroft Continent, Pope Igor of the Far Sea Sacred Mountain and Hillya the dragon-winged girl raised their head simultaneously. Scepter, robe, and azurite were unleashing radiances at once, illuminating the entire Star Altar. However, both seemed to be ignoring the glow, their eyes fixed on the void away from the world.

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Capital of the Northern Empire, the blond swordsman who wore the dual blades over his belt touched their hilts subconsciously. He could feel that the swords he was immeasurably familiar with were starting to sear as if some existence was resonating with it from an extremely faraway place.

At the same time, the gargantuan phantom of a magical formation promptly appeared in the world of Grandia. Holy luminosity drifted for a moment as if to consume the world, only to stop immediately as if time itself had frozen.

Soon, it became clear that time had indeed frozen and the entire world was shrouded in darkness.

In speechless silence, the cluster of light Joshua held in his hand began to burn quietly.

At the Four Holy Cities, the warriors who had been fighting endless undead spirits suddenly noticed that their enemy had completely turned into ash in an instant, fading into a puff of smoke. However, before the four cities’ lords could feel the emotions of the occasion, the frozen time paused the sight in the very next instant.

In the center of the continent, the gigantic titan shifted its head. As the child of a deity it could hold on for a second, but it merely sighed in that single second.

Within the capital enshrouded in darkness on the Guetard Highlands, it was only within the area where the warrior held the illuminating fluorescence that wind could move, sound could be conducted and time continued to flow.

The flame burned, signaling that the Initial Flame of this entire world had arrived here and that the time of the world had stopped too. Because the light of existence was slowly vanishing, all things crumbled within the unobservable Void, allowing Chaos of the unknown to dominate everything.

Then, Joshua spoke.

“No need,” he answered, “Allow me.”

Staring at the hesitant elven lady—a heroine who had paid the innumerable price in the fight against Evil Gods and finally triumphing, a smile surfaced over the warrior’s solemn face.

It was a rather stiff smile since the warrior was out of practice, but it was incomparably honest.

“You’re a hero and a being who saved an entire world,” Joshua said softly and peacefully. “A hundred and three thousand sinners survived thanks to your plea, even birthing a civilization.”

“You’re the Creator of this world. You should be accepting all honor and praise, why would you need to wipe away your own splendor after death?”

“Allow me, this living being, to do it. Who else other than me in this world could shoulder it?” The man who knew of this world’s future asked rhetorically without second thoughts.

Therefore, without a hint of delay, Joshua the warrior tightly gripped the flame in his hand. The smiling phantom of the elven saint thus vanished like a dream.

The warmth of the fluorescence appeared to carry everything.

Pity and coldness, sadness and despair were all irrelevant. The light of existence was so pure that it was as if Joshua held all life when he grasped it. Under the shining of the warm radiance, it was as if he was becoming a certain greater existence.

Carrying the Initial Flame, Joshua saw.

Before his eyes was the fundamental land that formed this world.

Before his eyes was the earthen sand and dust that formed this world.

Before his eyes were the most microscopic and basic of existences.

Silence spread amidst the darkness. It was the Origin power that shaped all things in this heaven and earth, the corrupted ‘Steel’ crying out in the most minuscule of corners.

Faint light glinted. It was the energy vein that permeated the world—all souls of the dead flowed within this tide of life, recycled endlessly within that vein until everything ended.

The warrior saw the world named Grandia that was fading rapidly as if a bonfire without wood or a furnace without coal. The divide between light and darkness, the border between life and death, the threshold between coldness and warmth—all things were falling into the opaqueness of Chaos and nonexistence of the Void.

The flames extinguished, but soon rekindled.

The warrior witnessed it all—the flame sparkled in his hand, transcendently warm as if it could illuminate the silence of all things.

Joshua inhaled deeply and raised the seemingly weak flame in his hand towards the profound darkness. His arms that could easily carry mountains was inimitably slow as if it carried the weight of a world.

In his hand was the authority of salvation and destruction, the reins that tamed end and rebirth.

Joshua could hear a deep voice echoing in the darkness. It was the voice that belonged to all life, all things and the will of this world. It was begging, it was crying, it was telling of its own pain and desperation.

The world was beseeching salvation.

And the man who held the authority thus replied coldly.

“No. I refuse.”

And so all things died and everything returned to silence.