Chapter 60. The Hundred Steps Ceremony (2)

Thud, thud, thud—

The combined sound of hundreds of footsteps created a peculiar atmosphere.

Swallow—

As they moved forward, some began to swallow hard, and a few even broke out in cold sweat.

In this way, the 50th batch of initiates completely emerged from the passage and stepped into the light.

“...What?!”

The person at the front gasped and hesitated.

“What, what is this?”

The person following behind bumped into his back and frowned in surprise, but soon he too had to gasp like the one in front.

But they couldn't just stop in surprise.

There were hundreds of people behind them.

The front person was pushed from behind and entered the inner area.

The others who followed one by one into the circular arena had reactions not much different from those at the front.

“Huh?!”

Indeed, it was fortunate that they were just surprised.

Some were so startled that they even hiccupped.

Finally, Yurii entered the circular arena and burst into laughter at the scene before his eyes.

“Huh? You’re welcoming us to this extent?”

The arena was large even from the outside, but inside, its grandeur was even more impressive.

At the center was a massive arena, and the tiered stands were built to accommodate tens of thousands of people.

And those stands were filled with people in black.

‘...Are all of them Black Swordsmen?’

Only then did Yurii understand the heavy, thick atmosphere.

‘Blood... and the scent of death.’

The Black Swordsmen were renowned killing machines from around the world.

The blood they had spilled.

The blood they had been buried in.

And the deaths that clung to them.

With tens of thousands of such elements densely packed, it was perhaps natural for such a stifling atmosphere to be created.

If the people in the arena were ordinary, faint-hearted individuals, they would have fainted from the overwhelming scent of death.

Even if they possessed mana, those with mediocre skills would have lost their composure.

Indeed, among the 50th batch, some became extremely nervous and moved slowly.

Meanwhile, Yurii quickly scanned his surroundings.

‘Hm?’

His gaze was drawn to a particular section of the stands.

There was a section of the stands that was slightly different from the others.

It was a deeply recessed section of the stands.

Clearly, it was a special place made for high-ranking officials.

In that special section, a luxurious chair was placed.

Next, what caught Yurii's attention was a line that started from beneath the special section and extended to the arena floor.

‘What is this?’

A white line, drawn in concentric circles at regular intervals.

‘One, two, three, four...’

Roughly counting, there seemed to be about 100 white lines.

While Yurii was distracted, the procession of the 50th batch stopped at the very end of the white lines.

Then a voice rang out.

“Form ranks!”

At the loud command, the 50th batch moved more quickly than ever.

With tens of thousands of eyes watching, they naturally became tense.

However, since they hadn't received formal training, their movements were awkward and uncoordinated.

Still, they somehow managed to roughly form rows and columns.

Thud.

The one-eyed deputy, Duran Vico, stood in front of the 50th batch.

“Now, we begin the 50th Dragon's Cradle Initiation Ceremony.”

Despite the significant moment of opening the ceremony, his voice carried a hint of amusement.

Duran lightly gestured to his subordinates behind him.

Snap.

Then, dozens of Black Swordsmen quickly moved and began distributing something to the 50th batch.

What they distributed was a piece of paper on a thin wooden board and a quill pen.

Those who received the wooden boards blinked at the words written at the top of the paper.

<Will>

Just two characters.

Below them was a large blank space.

It was clear that they were being asked to write a will right there.

The initiates, who had expected some kind of formal ceremony, were taken aback by the sudden request to write a will and opened their eyes wide.

In response to their questioning gazes, Duran answered.

“You can do anything on this land of the Cradle. Of course, there are a few rules you must follow to enjoy that freedom... but, you can learn those gradually. What you need to engrave in your minds right now are just two things.”

Duran raised his index finger, and his one eye sparkled.

“First, the strong eat the weak! The strongest takes everything. The weak should shut up and kneel!”

Next, he raised his middle finger.

“Second, if you want to become strong, don’t hesitate to use any means to win. Even killing for a just cause is permitted.”

“...?!”

At his words, the hearts of the 50th batch sank.

In the Starting Forest, everything was allowed except for killing.

But now, things were different.

They were officially announcing that even justified killings were permitted.

Although they were children of the competitive era, the word "killing" was still unfamiliar to them.

Moreover, the permission of killing meant that someone could die.

It could be someone around them, or even... themselves.

Realizing this, they finally grasped the gravity of the situation.

They understood that this land they were standing on was not a dignified academy for cultivating knowledge and manners.

It was a place like a battlefield.

And reading their expressions, Duran said,

“Why, are you just now starting to realize the situation you’re in?”

With a single eye filled with amusement, he raised his middle finger at the 50th batch.

“You’re all screwed. Heh heh heh.”

Heh heh heh.

At the sound of Duran's laughter, which resembled a cough, the 50th batch felt the wills in their hands become unusually heavy.

Seeing this, Duran smirked.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and write it.”

“...”

“Why? Can’t you write it? It’s not too late. Just say the word, and I’ll send you home.”

His taunting tone made the atmosphere even heavier.

But while everyone else was serious,

There was someone who was rubbing his ear with a lively look in his eyes.

Rub.

Regardless of the surrounding atmosphere, Yurii found this time boring.

‘What, did they come to the Cradle without even this level of resolve?’

To him, it was even more absurd that the atmosphere became so serious just because of a will.

Huff.

Yurii blew the earwax off his pinky finger.

Holding the quill pen, he was about to write his will when he blinked at the words at the bottom of the document.

[I swear that I will pay with my life if I reveal any information about the Dragon's Cradle, and I will not disclose its secrets even after my soul has passed on.]

Seeing this, Yurii chuckled.

‘Is this a will, or a non-disclosure agreement?’

It seemed the people of the Cradle had a serious case of fussiness.

They were trying to handle two things at once.

‘Isn’t this essentially bundling a non-disclosure agreement with a will?’

Well, it didn’t matter to him.

Whether it was a will or a non-disclosure agreement,

It wouldn’t be a problem no matter what.

Yurii picked up the quill pen and began writing the document elegantly.

Scratch, scratch.

It took him no more than 30 seconds to write the will.

Then he handed it to a Black Swordsman waiting nearby.

This was the first will submitted among the 300 initiates of the 50th batch.

The first will submitted in the serious atmosphere broke the stagnant flow.

As Yurii made the first move, others snapped out of their daze.

‘Right, how did we get here in the first place!’

‘The Cradle life is just beginning! We can’t give up just because of this!’

They clenched their teeth and began writing their wills.

Of course, not everyone was that serious.

Many wrote their wills calmly, having already guessed what the Cradle was like.

As tens of thousands watched, the 50th batch of initiates began writing their wills.

The Black Swordsman who received the first will looked at it and Yurii with a puzzled expression.

As if questioning whether this was really correct.

Despite the intense gaze, Yurii’s expression didn’t change; he just shrugged.

“Why?”

“...”

“What for?”

“...”

Unable to handle his audacity, the Black Swordsman reluctantly passed the will to Duran.

Duran, upon seeing it, chuckled.

<Will>

I am an immortal.

Truly a Yurii-like will, devoid of any tension.

The messy, one-line will was placed at the bottom.

Next, the will submitted almost simultaneously with Yurii’s was none other than Bobbi’s.

Swish.

Yurii, standing with Bobbi on his left and Arin on his right, sneakily peeked at Bobbi’s will as it was submitted to the Black Swordsman.

At the same time, a thought escaped his lips without passing through his brain.

“...This kid is for real.”

The reason Yurii said this:

Bobbi’s will contained only one sentence.

<Will>

I’m hungry.

...It seemed this kid wasn’t just pretending.

Many others followed Yurii and Bobbi in submitting their wills.

Some wrote short and concise wills like Yurii and Bobbi.

Others carefully chose their words.

A variety of wills poured in.

Of course, even after a considerable amount of time had passed, some were still writing their wills.

Among them was Arin.

Arin Helga, who was writing her will with an unusually cautious expression.

Curious about what she was writing so diligently, Yurii sneakily peeked at her will.

And once again, he said the same thing.

“...This one is for real too.”

<Will>

Cake, butter cookies, roasted chicken, boiled chicken, steamed fish with black sauce. Apple jam bread, egg-soaked toast, southern-style noodle dish...

...Let’s stop here.

‘Clearly, this one isn’t in her right mind either.’

The various food names filled the will in small letters.

The writing only stopped when there was no more space left.

This was the last will to be written.

Arin’s will, filled with food names, was placed at the top.

Duran looked at it with a bewildered expression.

Arin Helga, Yurii Holland, and some guy named Bobbi.

The three standing side by side.

‘They’re all gathered together, just like themselves.’

How they ended up in such a group was simply amazing.

“Tsk!”

Duran clicked his tongue and waved his hand.

His subordinate then disappeared with the collected wills.

Thus, the ceremony, which was unclear whether it was an initiation or a will-writing session, came to an end.

“Congratulations, caterpillars who have jumped into the hellfire! You are now the 50th batch of initiates of the Cradle.”

As he finished speaking, Duran stomped his foot.

Boom!

The sound of a human foot.

But it produced a shockwave greater than the simultaneous firing of dozens of cannons.

The sound was so loud that some initiates covered their ears.

And that was the signal.

Thud, thud, thud.

Tens of thousands of spectators.

The black-clad spectators who had been watching the arena stood up at once.

At the same time, the one-eyed man drew a short ceremonial sword and turned his body.

Toward the direction of the special section Yurii had seen earlier.

Swish.

Starting with him, all the Black Swordsmen in the stands drew identical ceremonial swords.

It was a perfectly synchronized movement without a single error.

“What, what is this?!”

“...?”

The initiates were confused and bewildered by the sight.

Someone muttered,

“...I’ve heard of this. It’s the Sword Salute!”

The Black Swordsmen, coming from different backgrounds, naturally used different weapons.

But they all had a common ceremonial sword.

A ceremonial dagger given to each Black Swordsman.

Simply called the Black Dagger, it was said to be used only for one specific ceremony.

Thud.

Duran Vico raised the Black Dagger in front of his chest.

Following his lead, tens of thousands of people in the special section adopted the same posture.

Thud.

The dagger, held in front of their hearts, pointed to the sky.

It symbolized their reverence to the great master.

Swish.

The daggers, held upright, fell diagonally, slicing the air.

This was the pledge of the servants to cut down enemies for the great master.

The unique and solemn ceremony known as the Sword Salute was directed toward the special section.

The special section where all the Black Swordsmen showed their reverence...

A person stepped in.