Naruan, Of A Different Calber

The training ground roared with cheers; Talis and Bioss smiled contentedly, and Jimnas laughed heartily as he applauded.

The applause from the representatives and the mages was deafening.

Why were they so happy? Because Naruan was healthier than expected? Because she’d grown stronger? No.

A fistful of chaos struck the ground beside Naruan, not her face. The tiny creature sprang up like a child who’d woken to find her parents, looked up—and kissed my lips.

Whether moved by the sight or finally given something to tease, everyone—except me—was delighted.

Even Hazel and Lee Hyo-ju were laughing.

“Wow! Owner of charisma! Our captain doesn’t discriminate between kids and adults. At this rate he’ll even like men…!!”

Including Arun, who blurted that embarrassing remark before Lee Hyo-ju silenced him, the legion regained its lively atmosphere when they saw Naruan was fine.

‘Strictly speaking, Naruan isn’t a child. Her age is…’

While I lingered on useless thoughts, everyone but Arun finished their sparring.

They chose to rest and shake off twelve days’ worth of tension; some, still stained with blood, hadn’t even had a proper wash.

As others dispersed to rest or find ways to relieve fatigue, I found myself facing Naruan in the study for the first time in a long while.

Naruan, returned to her usual self after the fight, fiddled with her fingers and grinned as always.

“Now tell me: what happened after you took the soul stone?”

“Huh? Soul stone? Eat it? Is that some new dish? No, I haven’t eaten anything… Wait, captain—I’m hungry!”

“…Wait.”

I requested a simple meal from the kitchen. While she ate, Naruan chattered nonstop about what she’d experienced during the battle.

Her long-winded explanation—full of ‘just’, ‘bam!’, and ‘like this!’, punctuated by knife-and-fork gestures—wound down, and as if on cue her meal finished.

“Alright, you did well back then. So after you met me… what happened?”

“After meeting the captain… I fell asleep… Oh! Right! The elder!”

Naruan sprang to her feet, babbling as if she’d just remembered something. She’d been sharper in battle, but now she was unmistakably foolish.

When she opened her eyes she felt no fatigue or pain from her earlier wounds. The place she woke was different: a quiet, rural spot resembling her tribe’s land, not a developed city like Exorsus.

A boy fighting another child caught her attention. He was smaller and was being overpowered by the larger kid. After being pummeled for a long time, the small boy’s eyes suddenly shone and the tide turned.

He climbed onto the big kid’s back for leverage and began pounding him, and Naruan noticed a small pebble clenched in the boy’s fist.

‘Don’t people usually try to stop kids when they fight?’

Naruan confessed she found it thrilling and wanted to watch more—something that shocked me.

She kept watching him and only then realized she wasn’t fully awake.

The boy grew quickly into an adult, though his height remained shorter than other men. His life was a relentless string of fights. Despite his smaller build, by middle age no one dared belittle him.

He had innate combat sense, enormous stamina, an unyielding heart, and an efficient use of divine power. He came to be revered and protected those who followed him.

Whenever others with similar abilities attacked his followers, he fought back with everything he had. Five comrades who did the same work always stood at his side:

A man who wielded his sword as if it were his hands and feet, listening to the sword’s cry.

A man who, with a greatsword in one hand and a shield in the other, was as impregnable as a fortress.

A presence whose body was never seen.

A cheerful, beautiful mage who excelled in creation of the undead.

Finally, a woman who rose to superhuman ranks through Healing.

The five and the middle-aged man were always together, helping those in need.

Watching them, Naruan said she thought of me.

I couldn’t help but snort. My goals were different from theirs.

They grew as strong as they could while helping the needy and defeating enemies, but in the end they met their deaths. At first I thought it was over.

“Then the elder appeared.”

“Appeared?”

“Yeah! He suddenly asked, ‘Did you watch well?’ like that.”

The man who appeared before Naruan was probably the owner of the soul stone—the fighting specter. He moved faster than expected and thanked Naruan.

As a token of gratitude, the fighting specter sparred with Naruan for about six months—endlessly and to their hearts’ content. Having one’s neck cut or body shattered became commonplace. Her fainting lasted at most two days, but during that time she received guided sparring from a man who had once nearly become a god. It was more like real combat than training.

According to Naruan, after being decapitated a hundred times she lost count. The fighting specter kept drilling the same words into her ears:

“Struggle is more thrilling and intoxicating than any pleasure! Truly enjoy it!”

His constant repetition had somehow brainwashed Naruan into enjoying fighting.

When Naruan herself felt something had changed, the fighting specter took his leave.

Before disappearing, he spoke words not directly to her but to the child who’d brought them together.

“Don’t worry. Let your comrades feel freedom as you did. Though we’re sealed in soul stones, none of us harbored evil hearts. I hope we meet again in the afterlife.”

“He said that, but what is this?”

“It’s nothing. Aren’t you tired?”

After she protested she wasn’t tired at all, I sent Naruan back to her room and mulled over what the fighting specter had said.

He’d assured it, but was it true? When three gather, each often thinks differently.

In the study Naruan had just left, I stared blankly at the five soul stones occupying space in my inventory.

Of the six heroes’ soul stones, several had abilities I couldn’t use. The Disturber of Rest and the Holy Touch didn’t suit me. Suho’s Shield could be forced to fit, but it fundamentally clashed with my combat style.

I couldn’t decide rashly without meeting Mors and discussing it.

Naruan’s incident complicated matters, but another trump weapon wouldn’t be a bad thing. Considering Manus, wasn’t it necessary?

Naruan grew stronger with time.

She became more Arun-like in everyday life, but in battle she transformed—dirty and vicious, targeting enemies’ weaknesses like Arun or Merus.

Her change drove the legion. Members who thought they’d peaked began to grow stronger.

Gu Baek-won felt relief and freshness mixed with self-reproach and humiliation.

The heavy, warm sensation in his lower garments confirmed the thing he’d feared had indeed happened.

‘How could the eldest son of the Gu Baek family suffer such humiliation…! Kim Han!!’

Sulking in an ‘OTL’ posture, he glanced up and found a sea of staring faces.

It felt like being a famous model in an Exorsus luxury boutique—continentals and representatives crowded around his residence, brandishing magic crystals.

“C-Cleanse! Cleanse!”

In his panic he cast a cleansing spell at full power. Wizards always emphasize composure for a reason. By overcharging the spell he removed things that shouldn’t have been removed—the dirt and hair on the lower part of his pants…

“Kyaaah!!”

“Oh my! Oh my!”

“What is that!”

“…Tsk tsk.”

“Hoho?”

The magical lights exposed his lower region—right there in front of the crowd at Gu Baek-won’s residence. Young women screamed as if they’d seen something obscene; men alternated between anger and pity. Even Lubeit made a curious remark.

“You? Did you wax down there?”

“…What! Gasp!! Ugh!!”

Only then did Gu Baek-won realize the refreshing feeling had not come from purification but from being stripped bare.

Screaming, he covered himself with one hand and fumbled with the other into the magic pouch at his side. After a long moment he yanked out a robe and dressed, glaring around with eyes that looked ready to beat someone to death.

The continentals merely snickered. At their reaction something snapped in him.

“You bastards!! How dare you!”

As he was about to storm out, Lubeit’s voice came from nearby.

“If you come out of there I’ll kill you.”

“Y-You senile hag!!”

“You really don’t know. Our Mr. Kim Han said you’d probably be clueless. Don’t you know why representatives start refusing to surrender and stubbornly leave Exorsus right at the start of their fifth year?”

“…What?”

Lubeit’s attitude toward the seething, enraged Gu Baek-won was peculiar—she watched him with a perpetually sullen face, daring him to try something, like an adult watching a child’s tantrum.

“Idiot. Haven’t you read GG’s autobiography? It’s required reading. Don’t you know to last at least ten years before surrendering?”

“W-What nonsense is that!”

Despite his agitation, Gu Baek-won felt the surrounding mood mock him and demanded an explanation from Lubeit.

“You’re the one talking nonsense. You shit and spout nonsense.”

“Eek!!”

“You idiot—if you surrender, you won’t be attacked by representatives. That rule applies only to representatives participating in the Battlefield of the Gods, though.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Something ominous in Lubeit’s confident tone made Gu Baek-won—still painfully aware of the chill below—take an involuntary step back.

“You aren’t attacked by continentals—only representatives. Now here’s the issue: I, the tower lord of the magic tower—what am I?”

Startled by her words, Gu Baek-won staggered backward in shock. The explanation that followed sank in unpleasantly.

Representatives wait until after their tenth year to surrender because before then they’re brimming with confidence. After training ends, that confidence makes surrender unnecessary. Acting recklessly and unaware, most who surrender early become fodder for stronger representatives. Only after ten years do the mediocre survivors start thinking about surrender.

If Gu Baek-won hadn’t needlessly picked a fight with Kim Han, he and his party would have left Exorsus and lived out their days as representatives. The Battlefield of the Gods was unusual: it had never produced a monster-class representative like Kim Han, nor anyone so beloved by the continentals.

Regardless of cause, Gu Baek-won’s actions were a mistake.

Only five years in, and raised with superior innate advantages, surrendering so early in a place where even commoners had some power was far too premature. What if the continentals hated him as they did now?

Gu Baek-won’s eyes dimmed as Lubeit’s ridicule sank in.

But the nightmare descending on him was only beginning.