Chapter 48: My Goal
Ethan reappeared in the rest zone—his body breaking, reforming, evolving.
A Talent is bound to one's soul. And when a Talent changes, the soul follows. The body, in turn, obeys.
A burning sensation coiled within him, like molten steel pouring into his bones. His muscles tensed, compacting—each fiber tightening with raw, condensed power. His pale skin stretched as he grew taller, now standing at a commanding six feet.
And then—his hair.
It shifted. Bled.
Black strands intertwined with streaks of white, cascading to his shoulders, shimmering like dusk and dawn entwined.
His emerald eyes darkened, the color draining into an abyss—deep, endless, consuming. But within that void, something remained: pupils glowing like celestial rings of balance, stark white against the darkness.
If he had once been striking, now he was otherworldly.
Even the so-called Handsome Goblin was unworthy of sitting at his table.
His beauty rivaled the gods.
Ethan inhaled deeply. Huuu…
This trial had done more than make him stronger.
It had made him whole.
And with that, a truth settled in his core—one he had ignored for too long.
He was not perfect.
Perhaps he never would be.
He would make mistakes. He would fail. He would take on more than he could handle and suffer the consequences.
Because like all mortals—he was flawed.
But that was what made mortals dangerous.
They fall. They break.
And still, they walk forward.
Trial after trial. Suffering upon suffering. They bleed, they despair, and yet—they rise.
They forge bonds. They find love. They carve a path toward something greater, not because they are perfect, but because they refuse to stop.
It is a journey.
A journey toward perfection.
A journey toward immortality.
And when the final moment comes, there must be no regrets.
To live without regret means to live by one's belief until the very end.
Every action must align with one's true purpose.
One's goal.
So…
"What is my goal?"
His voice cut through the silence, directed at the unseen forces watching—his system, the Tower, the very universe itself.
"Do I really need to chase something grand?"
His words hung in the air.
"Do I need that? Can't I just want to be strong enough so that no one can threaten me or my loved ones? So that I can live freely, lazily, without worry?"
The answers came swiftly.
[You can do so, Host.]
{You can indeed do so, O Allholder.}
See?
Let the complicated things be handled by my subordinates.
I'll just be strong enough to protect them if they mess up. Or to protect myself.
"Show me my intent and my new talent."
A notification flashed before his eyes.
[Intent - The Grand Accord]
All power is balanced in your presence. No one can cheat in your presence. In your presence, all is fair and just.
Note: Stronger beings or those with immense willpower can resist your intent.
[Talent - The Infinite Claimant]
You can claim anything and give endlessly.
— You can claim abilities, skills, artifacts, bloodlines, memories—anything—from those who direct killing intent toward you (up to two ranks above you).
— Everything you give can be reclaimed.
— Everything you give, you may keep a copy of, should you wish.
[You have lost your auras: Aura of Profanity and Aura of Sacred Devotion.]
[You have gained a new aura: Aura of Balance—a weaker version of your intent.]
I see… so auras are just incomplete, unrefined versions of intent.
When you find your aura, you build upon it, shaping it until you awaken your intent.
But for me? My auras were given to me. I skipped the basics. That's why I couldn't master intent.
My foundation is weak.
If I grow too fast without a solid foundation, I will c
Most of his skills had come from the system, not through training or true mastery.
Knowing a skill isn't enough.
Understanding it isn't enough.
My body and mind must become attuned to them—so that in battle, they activate as instinct, not just thought.
And for that… I need training.
His foundation had to be the strongest in existence.
I have all the resources one could dream of.
The question was—how should he use them?
His knowledge was limited. He had neglected his House's library out of laziness, and now it had come back to bite him.
Tch.
For now, only one thing could fill the gap.
The 10th floor.
His plan remained unchanged—reach the 10th floor.
But before awakening his class, he had to perfect his foundation, create his bloodline, and grant himself new traits.
Ethan exhaled slowly. Huuu…
Alright. I feel refreshed after this transformation.
Let's clear the ninth trial.
He raised his gaze.
"Tower, I am ready."
{As you will.}
⸻
The world shifted.
Ethan found himself in an arena—no, atop a mountain of ice.
The air was freezing, his breath visible in the sharp cold. The ground beneath him was pure ice, slick and unforgiving.
And he was not alone.
Surrounding him were dozens of humanoid beings—blue-skinned, battle-scarred, eyes glinting like frostbitten steel.
{Ninth Trial: The Skadryn}
{Description: The Skadryn are a territorial race who worship the Goddess of Winter, Skadi. You have trespassed upon their land. They demand your blood.}
{Objective: Kill them all.}
{Time Limit: One day.}
{Reward: A direct audience with the Goddess of Winter, Skadi.}
{Good luck, O Allholder.}
Ethan cracked his knuckles, feeling the new power coursing through him.
This wasn't just another trial.
This was the beginning of his true journey.
—End Of Chapter 48—