I Became the Youngest Disciple of the Martial God

Martial God, sir...? I cautiously called out.

I had to wait another couple of seconds for his rather curt reply.

[...The reasons for your calls, I feel, have been somewhat irreverent of late. Or is it just my imagination?]

Irreverent...? What did he mean?

I knew what the word meant, of course—I just didn’t understand his claim.

As I stood there, trying to guess the Martial God’s thoughts, he let out a sigh.

[Inheritor, I am the Martial God.]

Yes, of course...

[Not a historian, not a magician, and certainly not an antique dealer.]

...Erm.

[Questions regarding martial arts, I will always welcome, but calling me repeatedly for reasons like this is, to be truthful, a bit unpleasant.]

Was he... sulking? That was probably not the best word to describe his current state, but my dictionary was by no means the most extensive—I couldn’t come up with a better word to describe him.

I thought for a moment about how to solve this situation.

For a long time, I’d dealt with everyone who was upset with me the same way. And that way was...

I’m sorry.

I never imagined you felt that way. I was in the wrong.

Just apologize. When in doubt, it was better to swallow my pride and apologize.

[Mmm...]

You’ve been so kind to me, Martial God, that I got too comfortable and overstepped without realizing it. I apologize. From now on, I shall completely avoid calling upon you unless it’s related to martial arts.

[...Ahem. Well, you don’t have to avoid calling me altogether...]

As I thought. This man, true to his stubborn nature, got flustered when I was falling over myself to apologize. I’d noticed this before when I tried to appease him after he got upset over that whole thing in Hell.

[...Just don’t summon me too frequently over pointless things. I’m still tethered to you, so things tend to get a bit boring here. If you adjust the frequency a bit, it could serve as a decent diversion for me.]

Thank you. Your generosity is truly as boundless as the sea.

[Is that sarcasm I hear?]

...Of course not.

He wasn’t exactly clueless, so I needed to hold back on excessive flattery.

It was only after that ordeal that the Martial God seemed to take in his surroundings.

[Ah, this is a treasure vault. You wish for me to pick out the most valuable item here?]

Yes, sir.

[Hmm. That’s quite the tough request.]

I carefully asked, How so?

[The value of an object is inherently in a state of flux. It depends on supply and demand, of course, but also on how much one needs it and when the next opportunity might arise. Various factors can influence an object’s worth. Thus, from a general perspective, jewels and ornaments tend to have the most stable value.]

Then, it felt like the Martial God was pointing toward something.

[For example... that one.]

In the direction he’d pointed lay a gem that was clearly rare and valuable.

[That is a scarlet ruby, a gem so precious that it is often called the king of gemstones.]

Red corundum, AKA ruby, was the most valuable gem in this country. But that much was obvious given its sacred red hue.

In particular, the scarlet ruby that the Martial God pointed out looked much brighter and clearer than any ruby I had ever heard of.

I don’t really need a gem...

[I suspected as much. In that case, what you truly want is not an item of high value but something you currently need.]

Actually, that’s the problem. I don’t need anything at the moment.

At that, the Martial God barked out a laugh.

[To say you have no needs... That’s quite a bold statement. From what I see, you still lack many things.]

Like what, for example?

[You have yet to complete your White Sun Form. Your refinement technique also needs strengthening, and the harmony between your outer and inner self is not fully unified. Not to mention that your physique is underdeveloped.]

Those will be fixed with time.

[That is true.]

I felt the Martial God smirk.

[However, martial arms, often referred to as divine instruments, have one thing in common: They allow one to experience a level of power they have yet to reach.]

What does that mean?

[For instance, a hunk of steel that you could not possibly cut through at your current level could be sliced like tofu with a divine sword. If you were equipped with armor that couldn’t even be scratched by a sword, then training your muscles would be a low priority.]

Ah...

What the Martial God was saying made sense, and it was quite a new perspective. He wasn’t treating martial arms as mere tools.

[That is why getting too attached to divine instruments can be perilous. Many mistake the glimpse of a new level, gained through shortcuts, for their own level. However...]

It sounded like the Martial God was deliberately trailing off, so I picked up where he’d left off.

Other than that disadvantage, using an excellent martial armament must be an undeniable advantage.

[Indeed.]

I was a bit surprised. From his demeanor and the way he talked, I’d thought him a very hard-headed and proud martial artist. Yet he also had a very practical perspective in this area.

Suddenly, I was curious. What kind of life had the Martial God lived before becoming a god?

Suddenly, the Martial God’s tone became doubtful.

[Hm...? This presence—]

Is something the matter?

[Inheritor, head to the left.]

To the left?

A little puzzled, I obediently walked left as the Martial God had instructed.

[Just a little more, a little further up... now stop.]

I stopped. Before me lay an object somewhat out of place in this dazzling treasure trove.

It was a menacing tool with two fearsome crossed blades capable of cutting through anything in its way.

It was...

Scissors?

[Hmm.]

The Martial God regarded the scissors with a complicated expression.

[Could you touch it for a moment?]

Sure.

I picked up the scissors. The blades were so ancient and rusted, I doubted they could even cut hair.

[As I thought...]

Martial God sounded in complete disbelief.

What is this?

[...It’s one of the few holy artifacts remaining on the continent.]

A holy artifact?

[A medium that can directly connect to a god. I believe... in this era, humans more often refer to them as divine artifacts.]

“Oh!” I exclaimed. I finally realized what he was talking about.

He was referring to godly relics. Treasures among treasures, only 99 of which remained across this vast continent.

I had encountered a divine artifact before.

The Iron Chains of Binet.

I had seen them used by Rudbick, although that had only been a replica...

Even as a fake, it had been impressive.

Wait a minute, now that I think about it, isn’t the Sword of Seven Sins also a divine artifact?

The Nameless King was one of the Five Kings—beings revered as gods after their deaths.

Of course, the famous martial armament that represented the Nameless King... well, the Sword of Seven Sins wasn’t the only contender, so things were still a bit ambiguous.

Are these scissors the original, not a replica?

[Yes.]

If the Martial God was being this assertive, then it had to be true, but... I couldn’t help but look down at the scissors with a hint of skepticism.

...They seem too shabby to be a divine artifact.

[They have likely been neglected for a long time. I would guess they were excavated only recently.]

Ah.

[They should be usable as is, but they risk breaking after two or three uses. You’ll need to find a skilled blacksmith to carefully strip away the rust and reinforce the scissors.]

A skilled blacksmith...

Naturally, the first image that came to mind was the dwarves, who were natural craftsmen.

If I had known this would happen, I would’ve gotten closer to that dwarven young hero, the one always hanging around Hector.

If I remember correctly, his name was Bazil Jule.

Well, it wasn’t that urgent, so I asked the most important question I had: So, is this thing valuable?

[It’s hard to put a price tag on such things, but let\'s see...]

The Martial God examined the area.

[If I had to choose between this pair of scissors and everything else in the vault, I’d take the former.]

A wide grin spread across my face.

Well, that settled it.

* * * * *

* * * * *

At the same time.

Alderson, who had been nervously watching the monitor, fell out of his chair.

Crash!

“Headmaster...?! Are you all right?”

“Ugh, uurrgghh...! M-my treasure...! My treasure! My Scissors of Amon, gaaahhh...!”

“H-Headmaster?!”

“He’s having a seizure! Q-quickly, carry him to the infirmary!”

“Keuaaghhh!”

***

The Scissors of Amon.

That had to be the name of these scissors.

Apparently, there was nothing they couldn’t cut.

The scissors were an incredibly powerful artifact, but there was one particularly important problem.

...They don’t seem all that threatening.

Being so small and narrow, I couldn’t think of much that I could cut with them. Maybe a finger? Or an ear? With some effort, maybe even a tongue. Honestly, stabbing someone with the blades folded together seemed way more dangerous.

[The Scissors of Amon are currently sealed, but once they are stripped of rust and reinforced, their true form will be revealed.]

Hmm.

If the Martial God said it, then it had to be true.

I nodded to myself and headed over to Sellen.

While I’d been busy choosing the scissors, it looked like she had melted all the ice in her mouth. A quick glance confirmed she seemed to have consumed it well.

She hadn’t fully absorbed the elixir yet, but the flow of air around her had certainly changed.

“Did you pick what you want?”

“Yup.”

“What did you pick?”

I slowly showed her the old pair of scissors in my hand, curious to see whether she’d recognize them.

“...That’s an ugly pair of scissors. Your taste is horrible.”

She didn’t recognize them... though she hadn’t seemed all that interested to begin with.

Anyway, Sellen and I finally left the treasure vault.

It took us a bit longer than expected, but we were finally ready to face the fourth trial. We opened the door at the back of the treasure vault and were greeted by a wide-open space.

The size and layout felt familiar to me...

Sellen must have thought the same, because she said what I was thinking: “It’s a training ground.”

“This is the Floor of Duels, right? I guess we’ll have some sort of duel here.”

Sure enough, there was a large door on the opposite side.

Before we could explore further, a voice echoed in the air.

[That’s correct.]

It wasn’t the mechanical voice from earlier; this was Headmaster Alderson’s voice.

His voice sounded heavily forced—but more than that, he sounded exhausted.

Sellen asked, “You said it’s not us two fighting each other, so who, then, is our opponent? Another young hero?”

[That’s right.]

Tension filled the air.

Another hero?

Just like that, we had to face other heroes two-on-two?

I’m confident I won’t lose.

It was obvious which young heroes were capable of climbing all the way up here. Charon, Hector, or Butterfly... perhaps Evan as well, if he was lucky.

But not only was I well out of their league, Sellen wasn’t at all inferior to Charon or Hector. No matter who came up, the match would be one-sided.

The real question was, when would they reach the fourth floor?

The Headmaster suddenly began to speak.

[Humans are beings that evolve. To evolve, one must move beyond the past. I designed this place, the ‘Floor of Duels,’ to witness that process with my own eyes.]

“...What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

[I acknowledge that you two are no ordinary heroes. You are already comparable to active heroes.]

I felt Alderson’s gaze fall upon me.

[You in particular, Luan Bednicker. Your physical ability is phenomenal. When the day comes that the doors of the ‘Tower of Trials’ close, I expect the top ranking of the third floor will remain unchanged... You’ve set such an overwhelming record that my predictions seem foolish in hindsight. The record of your attemps will be of immense help to me, so I thank you in advance.]

“...”

Alderson was unquestionably a magician. He rambled on without a care, seemingly lost in his own world.

Because he was the headmaster, I couldn’t just blurt out something rude, so I settled for exchanging knowing looks with Sellen and letting out a sigh as he continued to yap.

[This tower meticulously records everything about those who climb it. Not just their physical abilities but also the martial arts they use, their distinct personalities, their speech, habits, and quirks—all of it is documented, without exception. The recorded information is saved in the form of puppets.]

“...Saved?”

[My name is Alderson Maveur. I am the Headmaster of Kartell Academy, one of the Seven Colors that Crossed the Skies—and the empire’s only Puppet Master.]

Lise had introduced herself in a similar manner. Was there some rule dictating how magicians had to introduce themselves?

Setting that pointless question aside, the atmosphere felt a bit strange.

“What even is a puppet master?”

“A puppeteer.”

“A puppeteer? What’s that?”

“A person who manipulates puppets.”

“...Like in a circus?”

Sellen turned her head away from me and rolled her eyes, then turned back, sighed, and said, “If those are the kinds of puppets we’re talking about, they’ll just have their strings cut.”

[The fourth floor of the Tower of Trials: the Trial of Combat. Here, the challengers shall face beings of the past. It would be a lie if I said I am not looking forward to it. It’s been decades since I built this tower, but this is the first time I’ve ever sent out two puppets simultaneously...]

Rumble...

With a loud noise, the door on the other side slowly opened.

Sellen and I focused our gaze on the widening gap.

“...!”

As if we’d planned it, our faces darkened at the exact same time.

The faces of the figures that emerged were far beyond our expectations.

[Leone. And Dellark Bednicker.]

Alderson voice was laced with satisfaction.

[To face the challenger who ranked first overall, I have no choice but to bring out these two masterpieces.]

“...”

Only now did I understand Headmaster Alderson’s earlier words.

So... he meticulously recorded every detail of the physical abilities of the heroes who climbed this tower, and he seemed to have injected that biological data directly into the puppets.

This old man is batshit crazy...

He was more sane than Asad and Lise?

I have been proven wildly incorrect, so let me fix that real quick: Alderson is far more insidious and dangerous than those two. Far, far more.

If the first two had a couple of screws loose, this geezer had at least a dozen.

Sellen clicked her tongue and glared at me subtly. “So if not for your score, I wouldn’t have to face those two impossibly strong puppets.”

“...I have no excuse.”

“Forget it.” Sellen turned to look back at the puppets. “The Lord of Blood and Iron wasn’t born the strongest. I’m sure they aren’t as strong as the real ones are now. Even that person, Leone, looks to be about our age, maybe even younger... And no matter how similar the puppets are, they won’t be able to use divine blessings, so it should be a fair fight.”

“Mhm.”

I agreed with Sellen’s words, but... I still felt a sense of unease.

Shing.

Leone’s puppet drew its sword. The sight brought back memories of the records I had reviewed on the third floor.

Leone, who ranked second overall.

No last name means she was a commoner...

Seeing her directly—or rather, as a puppet—she gave off a certain elegance.

That wasn’t the only thing that puzzled me.

I observed Leone as if searching for something, then said, “I’ll take care of Leone. You can handle the Lord of Blood and Iron.”

“You want me to face him?”

“Don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to make you draw the short straw. I have a plan to win.”

Sellen paused for a moment. “Is it a matter of compatibility?”

“Something like that.”

“...Fine. But I won’t be able to hold him off for too long.”

“I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

As soon as Sellen nodded...

Without warning, the fight began.

I dashed toward Leone, drawing the Sword of Seven Sins as I went. With limited information about my opponent, I planned to start probing with my blade to test the waters.

Clang!

“...HAHA!”

The instant our blades collided, an unexpected sound echoed through the air—Leone’s puppet had burst into laughter. Such humanity in its expression caught me off guard, sending goosebumps up my arms.

Krr! Clank!

We exchanged a second time, then a third.

With every successive clash, my wrist throbbed under the strain, but I pressed on. Her attacks were no clumsy third-rate techniques.

Her movements were elegant, harmonious, and systematic. For lack of better words, it felt as if her movements were steeped with history—like the prestigious swordsmanship of a noble lineage.

Would a commoner ever have the opportunity to encounter such techniques? This level of mastery was anything but ordinary.

What struck me most was how Leone wielded this style with so ferociously.

Each swing of a blade was not only a display of skill but also an expression of individuality. Being able to seamlessly blend one’s own style into their swordsmanship indicated a high level of skill for a swordsman.

This was actually more complex than simply copying a technique. In simpler terms, it was akin to a skillfully executed variation of a rigid, old-fashioned sword style.

My initial hunch had now turned into certainty.

As expected.

At this moment, Leone was stronger than the Lord of Blood and Iron.

But that wasn’t all.

“...You. Aren’t you a child of Bednicker?” said the puppet.

I slowly looked up to gaze into those crimson eyes, which shimmered with unnerving intensity.

“You are quite strong.”

...Was this really a puppet?

____