“……!”
It wasn’t an accusation.
It wasn’t mockery.
It wasn’t even an insult.
The moment Lee Cheon-gi heard Limon’s words, which sounded more like a lament, he felt—surprisingly—the emotion of shame.
Originally, he did not know shame.
In this Iron Age, a Monarch was an absolute being, and he felt entitled to act with dignity no matter what he did.
But this time, he couldn’t.
You may take pride in this.
Your swordsmanship has a value that exceeds a thousand skills.’
‘Is that so? When did I ever ask you to evaluate my swordsmanship?’
‘It is not an evaluation, but an acknowledgment.’
‘Since you can’t beat me with swordsmanship alone, you’re going to mobilize all your skills too?’
‘Because you are worthy of it.’
He had evaluated Limon.
He had acknowledged his sword.
He had discussed his worthiness to fight him.
All those words he had naturally spat out at Limon and taken for granted until now returned like daggers to pierce his own chest.
Now, he could understand.
Just how arrogant those statements had been.
To evaluate others, one must first know if they have the right to do so, and to acknowledge others, one must first be acknowledged by them.
Lee Cheon-gi had not done that.
He evaluated him without knowing anything.
He believed he had the right to do so.
However, Limon shattered Lee Cheon-gi’s arrogance into pieces.
With a single swing of his sword, he proved his own qualifications and informed him that he never had such qualifications to begin with.
More than anything else, his own precious sword, which had shattered in Limon’s hand, proved that fact.
The Immortal Sword Arondight.
A reward obtained for reaching Level 100.
A Monarch-class item, of which only ten existed in the entire world.
Among them, Arondight, which possessed the ‘Indestructible’ attribute, was the only weapon that could withstand him even if he poured out a thousand—no, ten thousand—skills all at once.
If such an Arondight shattered like glass, there was only one reason.
It was clearly because of Limon’s final strike.
To break an ‘Indestructible’ piece of equipment with a single strike.
That alone was enough to know that Limon was in a realm he dared not evaluate.
That was why Lee Cheon-gi had no choice but to ask.
“Why…… why have you been hiding such power until now?”
“Hiding my power? Me?”
Limon had an absurd expression, as if he were hearing something incredibly bizarre.
Then, he glared with a fierce look and growled.
“Hey, you crazy bastard! I fought the Seven Dragons Association for hundreds of years until blood was shed, and I even took down the Demon God by myself! So what more power do I need to reveal?”
Lee Cheon-gi felt speechless for a moment.
Because if he thought about it, those words were correct.
Limon Asphelter was the guardian deity of humanity.
He was a hero who had stopped several world-shattering crises, and the number of countries he had saved could not be counted even using both hands and feet.
He even reigned as an absolute being until the Iron Age began.
In other words, he was a great man who had lived for the past few hundred years flaunting his power as much as he could.
To ask such a person why he hid his power.
Even to himself, it was a ridiculous thing to say.
However, there was a reason why Lee Cheon-gi had no choice but to ask such an eccentric question.
“Isn’t that all in the past?”
Whether it was the rebellion of the Seven Dragons Association or the descent of the Demon God.
Those were events that happened decades or even centuries ago.
In that era when recording media was scarce, there was no way to accurately document what kind of great feats Limon had achieved.
At best, it was only passed down through written records or stories.
Furthermore, since the content was all so far-fetched, it was not unreasonable for people of the current era to believe it was an exaggeration characteristic of old records.
“So what?”
“I’m asking why you’ve never shown this kind of power in this era.”
Just once. No more, no less.
Even if Limon had showcased his power just once, the Sword Masters would not have fallen as they had now.
No matter how much this Iron Age revolved around Players, there was no idiot who would ignore a monster that could even strike down a Monarch.
Even so, why did he silently accept the downfall?
Limon’s answer was clear.
“Because I had no reason to use it.”
“…What did you say?”
“I haven’t had a proper fight in decades, you prick. I already killed the Demon God a long time ago, and the war is over, so where would I use this kind of power?”
“That……! *Cough! Cough, cough!*”
Was it because it was so absurd?
Lee Cheon-gi, who barely managed to stop coughing up blood, asked as if protesting.
“Do you think that makes any sense?”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
However, Limon’s attitude was entirely dignified.
No, beyond being dignified, he looked down at Lee Cheon-gi with a sneer.
“You think I should have gone around beating up you Monarchs just to prove I’m strong?”
“……”
Lee Cheon-gi was once again at a loss for words.
He realized that for Limon—who couldn’t enter dungeons and had no level—the only way to prove his strength was to actually start a fight.
And that would mean fighting to the death with a Monarch, just like right now.
No, perhaps even that would not have been enough.
Just as Lee Cheon-gi had believed Limon would be no match for him even after hearing he had wiped out 150 high-level Players, including two Archdukes.
Even if Limon fought and won against a Monarch, there would be many who would consider it a fluke, luck, or foul play.
No matter what evidence existed.
No matter what records were left.
Because people tend to believe what they want to believe.
If Limon wanted to prove himself beyond that disbelief?
He might have had to beat down all ten Monarchs completely.
“Do you know what they call it when someone goes around knocking down easy targets just to brag about how strong they are?”
Lee Cheon-gi was speechless.
Looking at him, Limon said sarcastically.
“It’s called acting like a thug, you pathetic errand boy.”
“Are you… perhaps comparing the Monarchs to ‘easy targets’ right now?”
“It’s not a comparison; it’s a direct statement.”
Limon openly mocked him, asking how it could be a metaphor when he was calling easy targets exactly what they were.
Lee Cheon-gi could not bring himself to deny that fact.
The way he looked now, having suffered a total defeat after being unilaterally toyed with, was evidence that those words were by no means a bluff.
Still, it must not have felt good.
Limon, seeing Lee Cheon-gi’s deeply furrowed brow, let out a short chuckle.
“It seems my direct way of speaking isn’t sticking with you, so I’ll mix in some metaphors as you wish.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Whether Lee Cheon-gi expressed his gratitude like he was reading from a textbook or not, Limon didn’t particularly care.
He simply began to speak in a languid voice.
“Let’s say there’s a huge bomb. Yeah, a bomb with the power of, say, ten million tons of TNT.”
“Are you saying that with any idea of how much that is?”
“Shut up and just listen, prick.”
To the cold counterargument that such a bomb capable of wiping out an entire city couldn’t possibly exist, Limon ignored it and continued.
“You have the switch to that bomb. But the snot-nosed brats in the neighborhood don’t believe such a bomb exists, and they even look down on you and pick a fight.”
Limon crouched down in front of Lee Cheon-gi.
And while matching his eye level, he asked in a languid voice.
“Then, would you detonate that bomb right in front of the kids’ eyes just to prove it exists?”
Lee Cheon-gi’s face hardened.
It was only then that he understood.
Limon was asking how running wild to prove one’s strength was any different from detonating such a bomb.
“……Who would do such a crazy thing?”
“You think they wouldn’t? Really?”
“……”
“What I felt while working as a PAB agent is that you people handle power too lightly.”
Swordsmanship, psionics, magic, spirit arts, and more.
There were many powers that ruled the world in the past, but none were as easy to obtain as skills.
Not that it was necessarily a bad thing.
The problem was the side effects that came with it.
“Because it’s power obtained easily, you use it easily. Instead of worrying about whether it’s okay to use it, you only think about how to use it to gain more.”
There is no master to teach the meaning of power.
There isn’t even time to build pride and conviction.
They are anxious to show off the power they’ve gained.
Just like how anyone wants to brag when they suddenly get a good item or record a high score in a game.
“Well, I suppose it’s only natural.”
Limon didn’t particularly criticize that fact.
He just calmly acknowledged a single truth.
“Because in the end, you are all ‘Players’.”
Lee Cheon-gi realized for the first time.
A ‘Player’—something everyone in this era wished to become and was seen only as a symbol of success.
That title could also sound like a derogatory term mocking those who live as if the world were a game.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like you can necessarily use power properly just because you obtained it through hardship.”
Then why did he use that metaphor?
To Lee Cheon-gi, who was brooding over it, Limon suddenly asked.
“In that sense, have you ever heard this saying? That with great power comes great responsibility.”
“I’ve heard something similar.”
Lee Cheon-gi answered as calmly as possible.
In this era where the role of high-level Players was significant, there were many catchphrases intended to inspire a sense of responsibility to promote their voluntary activities.
That was why he thought Limon was going to say that restraint is also part of responsibility.
“That’s a complete load of bullshit.”
But Limon declared it firmly.
He said that if you believe in that kind of thing, your life will be ruined.
“Power has no responsibility. There’s no such thing as being punished for using power wrongly; in fact, the more irresponsibly you use power, the more you gain.”
Arguments for responsibility like *noblesse oblige* have existed since ancient times.
But those responsibilities were rarely kept, and those rare few who tried to keep them mostly fell into ruin.
With the weight of experience from one who was like the living history of humanity, Limon said decisively.
“Because the world is unfair.”
“Are you planning to spread nihilism?”
“No, I’m talking about how easy it is to abuse power.”
Because there is no responsibility, when and how to use power becomes entirely the freedom of the possessor.
And at least as far as Limon knew, in any era, those who gained wealth and honor were those who realized that fact early on and properly abused their power.
“Like you said, showing off my strength… there’s no reason I couldn’t do it. If I acted like a thug just once, I could gain wealth and honor and make everyone crawl before me.”
Perhaps not for others, but for Limon, it was truly an easy task.
If they didn’t accept it after he beat down one Monarch, he just had to repeatedly beat them down until they did.
However, Limon sneered at that easy task and added a few more assumptions.
“But what happens after another thirty years pass like that?”
“What if the next generation forgets my power again and holds their heads high?”
“The thuggery I thought would be a one-time thing would be repeated in just thirty years. And it would be even bigger and more flamboyant than before.”
That was a point that Lee Cheon-gi, as a Monarch, had never even considered.
To begin with, Players had the stage called dungeons to prove their strength, and they didn’t even need to consider things thirty years into the future.
“Do you know what happens if you keep using power like that?”
On the other hand, a person who knows nothing but how to swing a sword.
Someone who has to fight to prove himself.
And Limon, who has lived through times where he can call thirty years ‘mere’ and will continue to live on, wore a cold smile.
“You become a monster.”
“Committing slaughter for no reason other than to flaunt your own power.”
“A monster that doesn’t die of old age, doesn’t know how to yield, holds and wields power forever, and might one day destroy the world just to kill time.”
“……”
“……”
Lee Cheon-gi fell into silence.
Limon’s voice, filled with unshakable conviction as if he had seen such a monster firsthand.
More than anything, his golden eyes—sunken and devoid of emotion, beyond cold—made any words impossible for Lee Cheon-gi.
“That’s why I didn’t do it.”
Limon calmly told Lee Cheon-gi the single reason why he lived according to the flow of the times, even while losing everything and falling into ruin, never flaunting
his power, and even when he was framed as a traitor.
“Because I am a human.”
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