Human life is short.
Within that brief span, those humans called geniuses devote themselves to sword or magic, taking decades to reach the heights of Grandmaster or Archmage.
And once they reach that peak, they slowly decline, growing old and losing strength.
—Because a human’s life is short.
So what happens when such a genius forsakes their humanity, is reborn as an immortal like a Vampire or a Lich, and continues training for centuries more?
Suppose one who spent seventy years of their human life attaining the rank of Archmage becomes a Lich, then lives another seven hundred years practicing magic. What sort of monstrous master of the arcane would that Lich become?
The answer is, “There’s not as much difference as you’d think.”
The quality of the seventy years of learning and growth in their fleeting human life far exceeds the seven hundred years of magical training spent as a Lich.
This is the [Paradox of the Immortal].
The further a being transcends death and moves away from it, the more stagnant their growth becomes. In fact, it’s not uncommon for immortals to regress rather than progress after becoming undying.
Becoming an immortal grants endless time for training. As an immortal being, one can obtain powers unimaginable to any human. The inability to use Aura as a price hardly seems worth mentioning.
Yet, no matter how much time they pour in, immortals cannot grow stronger as rapidly as they once did as humans.
A being unafraid of death ceases to grow at that very point.
That is why, before the barrier of the [Paradox of the Immortal], the challenge facing all immortals converges on a single question.
How can one keep growing without stopping, as they did when they were human?
The ‘Spear of Fate’ in Sien’s hand was one such answer.
Instead of refining their own being, they seek the answer externally.
Artifacts.
Not just any artifacts, but relics of such power and history that even a being who has lived for centuries would depend on them—divine artifacts.
Among them, the Spear of Fate—also called the ‘Spear of Longinus’—was in a league of its own.
The artifact ‘Kingslayer’ that Hansel had given once upon a time was also a weapon of tremendous power, but even it could not compare to this spear.
And such divine artifacts are not things that can be wielded simply by holding them.
In the underground training chamber of the ducal mansion.
Unlike the ‘Chambers of Hellfire’ such as Black Ascetic Hell, which he’d once used for forbidden magical training, this was a featureless, pure room, filled with only darkness.
‘The Room of the Void.’
It was there, in the void, that Sien, steeling his resolve, gripped the shard of the spearhead in his hand.
The Spear of Fate—a treasure so precious that even a vampire who has lived nearly a thousand years cherishes it as dearly as his own life.
Of course, what Sien held was not the complete artifact. What Cesare had given him was but a tiny fraction—a sliver of the spear’s shattered blade, broken into dozens, hundreds of pieces. Even now, he didn’t possess the Spear of Fate in its complete form.
And yet, even in these fragmented remnants of the divine artifact, an overwhelming power was still contained.
As Laila had said, there is a time for rest.
But now was not that time.
Right now, here, he had to claim the power of the divine artifact.
Whoosh!
The darkness of the Void, capable of withstanding even the highest-tier offensive magic, began to ominously churn.
Boom!
At that moment, a voice echoed from within the darkness.
“Grand Duke Grandel, the Sword Saint, and the seven Commanders of the Order of Imperial Knights.”
“The Great Sage, Bar Muore, and the five Imperial Tower Masters.”
At the same time, he could not even move a finger. Nothing was visible. In the suffocating helplessness, he realized.
“Do you admit to the charge of attempting their assassination?”
The fate that awaited Sien in the days to come was there.
Everything he had tried to protect was reduced to ashes.
Everyone he had tried to save died.
Such was his fate.
“Run, Sien.”
Luna, who had guarded the family library to the very end, was killed resisting alone against the Empire’s highest High Inquisitors.
Hansel and Gretel were dead. Captured alive by the Empire, they were tortured to death in a manner more excruciating than mere execution.
Mikhail and Isabelle suffered the same. The end that came to those two was particularly gruesome.
One by one, the family Sien had loved and vowed to protect was slain.
The weight of utter powerlessness crushed him. No matter how he struggled, nothing changed—the despair swallowed Sien whole.
And that was the conclusion.
“Sien.”
Just then, another voice swept through his mind.
It was a battlefield where corpses were piled into mountains. There, before him, shone the back of his mother, leading the way.
She was so formidable in her full-body armor, a dress-shaped suit that made the title ‘mother of assassins’ meaningless.
“I was so happy because you were my son.”
A future yet to come for the Sien of this moment.
Yet, no matter how he struggled, that was a scene from the future he could not escape, one he could not turn away from.
An unavoidable destiny was laid out before him.
“From now on, you will lead our family as its head.”
“Mother…!”
“Please, survive and preserve your life, Family Head.”
The mother of assassins spoke.
To Sien, destined to become the next head of the Nightwalker Family.
“Esteemed Duke of Nightwalker, our father of assassins—”
The Sien of that time was not a child anymore, yet he was still not grown enough to truly succeed the Nightwalker Family as its lord.
But there, hidden in the shadows until now, were the true rulers of the Holy Empire.
Laila, to protect her son, willingly sacrificed herself before them.
She was not the only one.
Luna, Hansel and Gretel, even Isabelle, and even the strange Mikhail—all died in the same way.
Uncles, aunts, older brothers, sisters, younger siblings—all dead.
They did not die for the family. Nor did they die merely to protect the head of the family.
They died reaching out to protect the ones they loved, their family. They couldn’t even die peacefully.
“From now on, I won’t let anyone else die.”
A voice from the darkness echoed back mockingly.
“—Do you think that mere shard of a spear can change your fate?”
The Spear of Fate.
Despite being called a spear, this artifact was no simple weapon.
It was a talisman possessing the [Power to Change Fate].
A fate of certain defeat on a battlefield with no chance of victory. A fate of waiting helplessly for death after being targeted by the finest assassin. Even the curse of ‘immortal beings can never grow as humans do’—the Spear’s shard could overcome such destinies.
“Do you truly believe such a thing will change the fate awaiting you?”
But even such a talisman could not change the fate looming over Sien in the days to come.
He could feel it painfully. The destiny before him was that merciless, that cruel, and that inescapable.
Not with this incomplete spear shard—perhaps not even if he had the whole thing. Such was the strength of his fate.
“Fine, with this alone, I can’t change anything.”
Sien replied.
“I will change my own fate with my own hands.”
“Then why are you so obsessed with the artifact’s power?”
“Because you’re in my hand.”
It was Sien’s own hand that would change fate. And now, in that hand, he held the spear. That was why he claimed its power.
“I’ll change my fate. You just help me.”
A divine artifact of such strength was not something that could be wielded simply by possessing it.
He had to prove himself.
That he was worthy to own and command the ‘Spear of Fate’.
To whom?
To the divine artifact itself—
“From now on, I am your new master.”
Boom!
At once, the brick-like pressure of darkness that had been crushing Sien collapsed and fell away.
The helplessness that had paralyzed even his fingers vanished as if it were a lie. Instead, a strange omnipotence surged through him like a storm.
A sensation as if he could do anything, change anything. He could feel the ‘currents of fate’ swirling around him, clear as the wind.
Only then did he realize what the feeling of omnipotence truly was.
[The Power to Manipulate Fate.]
That power now moved in accordance with Sien’s will, like aura or magic.
He recalled the day he fought Cesare, who had wielded this artifact almost in its complete form.
He remembered vividly how Cesare manipulated fate in battle with this divine artifact—and how, in the end, the artifact was destroyed in the backlash of their twisted struggle, and Cesare fell to Sien.
One of the world’s greatest artifacts had been shattered that way.
But not now.
Even if it was only a fragment, the power now belonged to Sien. And even now, shards of the spearhead that Cesare had not yet claimed slumbered across the continent.
He needed power to change fate.
Power to protect what needed protecting, to kill what needed killing. The power to kill before being killed.
The answer that beings stunted by the Paradox of the Immortal search for—was now in Sien’s own hand.
Sien wasn’t even an immortal. He was a human who grew stronger every day.
Today, he was stronger than yesterday. Tomorrow, he would be stronger than today. And now, Sien had claimed the power of a divine artifact to overcome the Paradox of the Immortal.
Struggling to control the surging power, Sien lifted his head.
Sien possessed overflowing talent. No, even calling it talent wasn’t enough.
That was why, after sending Sien away, Laila was left alone in her office, deep in thought.
Without trials, no one grows strong. Unlike those stagnant beings hindered by the Paradox of the Immortal, humans can grow quickly because the threat of death is always at their side.
The pain of not being able to kill humans is what makes humans strong.
But unless that pain is truly a pain that could kill you, it is meaningless.
That’s why, even if she feared losing Sien, giving him safe and easy missions would only stifle his potential and hinder his growth in the long term. In the end, that would be no different from the beings stalled by the Paradox of the Immortal.
But now, Sien was simply too strong. The speed of Sien’s growth—growing stronger every single day—was enough to astound even her.
To give such a skilled assassin a mission dangerous enough to risk death… Even Laila hesitated to make such a decision.
She should have hesitated.
Yet her son, who had entered the Void on his own, returned without a scratch—having claimed the full power of the mightiest divine artifact, the ‘Spear of Fate,’ for himself.
“How about now? Has your thinking changed?”
“Hm, well.”
Laila laughed in disbelief. It wasn’t surprise or awe. She simply found it all so absurd that she had to laugh.
“I’m actually worried now that the mission might be too easy.”
At the end of her laughter, Laila spoke.
Looking at her son, who, compared to just a few minutes ago, was now immeasurably stronger.