I'm the Crazy One in the Family-Chapter 300: The Secret Behind His Birth (1)

Keter had planned to breeze through this request as well. If he struck Ulter across the cheek with the intent to kill, he would surely get angry, and if he tried to fight only half-heartedly, it would rekindle his will to live.

However, Ulter did not budge, not even when subjected to an attack powerful enough to tear steel like paper, not even when he suffered the humiliation of being slapped. Instead, it was Keter’s palm that trembled.

“It feels like I just hit a mountain made of steel.”

Only because it was Keter did his hand remain intact. An ordinary Transcendental’s palm would have burst open. The rebound alone was that immense.

Seeing Keter troubled, Ivan’s lips curled into the deepest smile he had ever shown yet.

“Ulter is a Transcendental from the Warring States period, an age of endless war before the fallen Arcane Empire. He’s not someone the likes of you can do anything about.”

“A living fossil, huh.”

The Arcane Empire was the one and only empire to have unified all continents, and a fallen empire that had been gone for over a thousand years. Only now did Keter understand what it meant that Ulter had lost interest in the world.

He must’ve lived for thousands of years. There’s nothing he hasn’t tried.

Ulter had likely done everything a human could possibly do, and even things no human should have been able to. It might seem like there was no chance of victory at all, but the fire of Keter’s competitiveness did not go out.

If he had no lingering attachments to this world, he would’ve gone sightseeing in the afterlife already, but he didn’t, which means he still has regrets.

Keter didn’t confine himself to the idea of offering something Ulter had never experienced. Even if Ulter had tried everything, surely there was something different that he could provide.

Ivan folded his arms as he watched Keter think.

“Awakening Ulter is the Syndicate’s traditional initiation ritual. No one’s ever succeeded so far,” he said.

Ivan himself had failed. No matter what was offered, Ulter simply ignored it.

“You’ve lived for thousands of years, right?” Keter asked.

“...”

Ulter didn’t answer, but Keter didn’t care and continued speaking.

“You must be incredibly strong—strong enough that even I can’t guarantee victory. The result of our battle would be the same even if we fought hundreds, thousands of times. And not just fighting; there’s probably nothing else you haven’t done either... But there’s one field where I can beat you: teaching students. If your disciple and mine were to fight, the winner is obvious—mine.”

The corner of Ulter’s eye twitched. Ivan wondered if he’d imagined it. Keter, unsatisfied, pressed on.

“Know why I’m confident? If your student had truly made it big, there’s no way I wouldn’t know the name Ulter. There may be no Ulter Kingdom, but there should at least be an Ulter family, yet there isn’t. That’s proof you’re absolutely terrible at raising disciples. Ah, what a shame. If I could gamble on this match, I’d stake everything I own—including my soul, my family, my relatives, even the soul of the dog owned by my in-laws’ cousins’ friends!”

At the relentless barrage, Ulter’s eyes snapped open. Only then did Ivan realize that Ulter’s eyes were black.

Ulter raised only his upper body and looked steadily at Keter.

“Teaching students.”

Just two words. Keter nodded in response.

“Twenty years from now. We pit our students against each other. The loser gives everything to the winner.”

“Name.”

“Keter.”

“Keter. I will remember it.”

Rustle.

Ulter stood up. Ivan and Tuska, watching from the side, were frozen like statues.

“Sounds... reasonably interesting.”

As if moving for the first time in ages, Ulter clenched and unclenched his hands, loosening his body. For a moment, Keter was at a loss for words. Even lying there like a corpse, Ulter had felt overwhelming, but standing up, that presence multiplied dozens of times over.

He had strength that far surpassed even the ruler of the Lillian Kingdom. Ulter’s power clearly belonged to the realm Keter aspired to reach: an eight-star Irregular.

I’m fucked.

Even Keter felt a flicker of regret, as Ulter was an absurd monster of a man. But he quickly steadied himself.

I’m not fighting him right now. Why panic? I’m confident I can raise a student, too.

Of course, Keter had never properly trained a student before. But having taught the siblings in Sefira for a short while, he had found being a mentor surprisingly enjoyable. And Keter was the type to take anything he enjoyed very seriously.

Ulter traced his finger downward through the air, and the space in front of him split apart. It wasn’t magic, not a special ability; he simply tore space open with a finger alone, without any prelude.

As Ulter stepped toward the rift, he paused and tossed something to Keter.

“Payment for waking me.”

It was a fist-sized glass heart. It was also a token signifying that the battle of students had been set.

* * *

“...Lord Keter. Do you realize what you’ve just done?”

“Keter, l-let me take a look at that for a moment. I’ll appraise it for you.”

Tuska and Ivan approached Keter at the same time.

Keter pulled the glass heart back and said flatly, “Don’t get in my face. I’ll throw a punch.”

“Lord Ulter has neither blood relatives nor students. Do you know why? Because they betrayed him. What you’ve done just now is stab him in the deepest wound he has. If you lose that wager, it’s obvious what will happen to you. You’ll suffer for eternity, I guarantee it.”

“Hand that glass heart over to me. I possess three tools of Shade. I’ll trade them for that.”

Tuska tried to intimidate him. Ivan, on the other hand, made an offer.

Keter ignored Tuska and examined the glass heart instead. At a glance, it didn’t look like anything special. Even holding it in his hands, he couldn’t really feel how extraordinary it was supposed to be.

But Ivan’s eyes were bulging as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. It was clearly no ordinary object.

When you don’t know what something is, you start by pouring mana into it.

Just as Keter began to draw up his mana, Ivan lunged forward in panic.

“Don’t! If you use it now, you’ll die, and it’ll vanish as well!”

“Huh?”

“Lord Ivan. Just what exactly is that thing?”

Tuska, clearly curious as well, questioned Ivan about the glass heart’s identity.

Ivan hesitated and didn’t go into detail about the object. “I-it’s... a relic of immense archaeological value—an artifact from the Warring States. Its historical worth is astronomical.”

“Tell me what it is. If you don’t, I won’t treat your condition. And don’t even dream about me handing it over.”

“G-gah... Keter, that object is far beyond someone like you. I don’t know why Ulter gave it to you, but it’s... It’s...”

“Wow. Isn’t that a dragon heart? Looks like Lord Ulter took a liking to you, Lord Keter,” Killian said from behind Keter.

Thud!

Keter reflexively drove his elbow into Killian’s abdomen, but...

“Sorry for startling you. I didn’t realize you were here.”

Astonishingly, Killian blocked Keter’s surprise attack with just a single finger. Keter, who could beat Grandmasters senseless in the outside world, was powerless within the Syndicate.

Still, he didn’t make a fuss. From his previous life, he knew just how many hidden Transcendentals lurked in the shadows of this world.

“Wait, that’s a dragon heart? Aren’t dragons extinct?” Keter asked.

“Strictly speaking, no. Dragons chose naturalization rather than extinction. Before they departed, they left behind their essences in the form of these glass hearts. There were twelve in total. And as for their value...”

Killian pointed at Keter’s Terra Ring.

“Most of the Five Element Relics were made using dragon hearts. Beyond their value as materials, they themselves contain infinite energy. There are even records stating that the first emperor of the Arcane Empire subdued dozens of nations using just three dragon hearts.”

“So basically, this thing’s on par with one of the Five Element Relics?”

“Not quite as prestigious. A famed sword is renowned because of its blade, not its hilt, though that doesn’t mean the hilt isn’t important.”

“That’s a good analogy. Makes it crystal clear.”

“To put it simply, you could say it’s valuable enough to trade for a single Five Element Relics.”

“Hm... Then how do I use it?”

“I’d hate to deprive you of the fun of discovering that yourself. That said, completing four requests already... and in less than half a day. I’m impressed.”

Killian smoothly shifted the topic. Keter decided he could investigate the heart later.

“Competence has a way of revealing itself, no matter how hard you try to hide it,” Keter replied.

“Hehe. Much better than false modesty. If you don’t mind, Lord Keter, I’d like to keep introducing you to more clients.”

“Bring them all. What I start today, I finish today.”

“...Before that, I should warn you. This is actually why I came to see you, because the person you’re about to meet is extremely dangerous.”

Hearing that, Tuska interrupted before Keter could react.

“Lord Killian, you’re not planning to take Keter before King Kron, are you? I wouldn’t recommend it. He’ll surely die.”

“King Kron?”

The name was unfamiliar, but the title alone suggested someone extraordinary.

Killian addressed Keter in a grave tone. “You must never speak his name casually. We may call him King Kron due to our shared affiliation, but as an outsider, you must address him as the Mad Saint King. If you fail to do so, you will be killed without a shred of mercy.”

“Wow, that’s quite a scare tactic. Is he a god or something?”

“Not a god, but one could call him a demigod. Lord Keter, did you feel Lord Ulter’s level?”

“I did. An eight-star Irregular, right?”

“Did you think you could defeat him?”

“Not at all.”

“King Kron is someone who stands infinitely close to the nine-star realm.”

“Nine-star...!”

A level so high it didn’t even have a proper name. Calling him a demigod wasn't an exaggeration.

“So they really do exist...” Keter murmured.

Even in his previous life, Keter had never encountered anyone beyond eight-star. He had often wondered whether such beings truly existed, but he now knew it was possible.

Thump. Thump.

Keter clutched his chest. His heart was racing wildly. Fear and competitive exhilaration twisted together, driving him half-mad.

Just how strong is someone beyond eight-star?

Of course, the Godfather might well be above eight-star as well, but the Godfather felt different for some reason. Back then, Keter hadn’t even been capable of sensing his full depth.

Now, though, he stood close to becoming a Transcendental himself. His perception had changed, and so had the world he could see—now beyond Transcendentals and into the realm of gods.

Keter’s lips felt parched. Just imagining such an existence sent shivers through his body.

Killian, assuming Keter’s anxiety was natural, warned him again.

“Absolutely, under no circumstances, may you speak informally before King Kron. Always be respectful to him. Do not move a single finger. You must even breathe only with his permission. You must obey every command, and even then, you must not show displeasure or reluctance. You could be killed simply because he dislikes your expression. Even knowing all this... will you still meet him and accept his request?”

If this had been Keter a month ago, he would have refused. He’d already completed four requests and gained priceless rewards. There was no reason to risk his life meeting a mad demigod. But a week ago, Keter had reached an insight.

If I avoid something, that’s not the free life I believe in.

Keter was going to accept everything. Even if he avoided it later, he was going to face it first. That was the right thing to do.

“A Solver doesn’t discriminate between clients.”

It didn’t matter if they were a beggar or an emperor—he’d take the job regardless.

At Keter’s resolve, Killian smiled faintly.

“I’m relieved. I was worried you might refuse. Then... let’s go at once.”

“No! If you’re going, leave the dragon heart behind!” Ivan shouted from behind, but Keter merely flipped him off and stepped through the gate with Killian.

* * *

The deep sea: Keter had once descended into the depths of the ocean in his previous life out of pure curiosity, wondering what lay there. However, that curiosity went unanswered. After descending about five hundred meters, an unbearable pressure crushed down on him. He forced himself to continue anyway, but around eight hundred meters, he reached his limit. And now, Keter was feeling a pressure even greater than back then.

Even if I’m allowed to breathe, I don’t think I could.

This was a place where survival was impossible unless one was a Transcendental. The environment was so extreme that it made him wonder if the man who had introduced him here was actually a reaper, or if this was a Syndicate trap.

To make matters worse, Keter couldn’t see anyone—not Killian nor the so-called Mad Saint King.

This leaves me no choice.

Killian had warned him not to do anything, but at this rate, he was going to die. Just as Keter was about to draw upon his Ein...

—So you’re the problem solver Killian mentioned.

A majestic voice reverberated through the darkness. The echo spread endlessly, the sentence repeating over and over again without end.

...!

Just hearing the voice made Keter’s head burn. The mental shock was overwhelming.

Drip...

Blood flowed from Keter’s eyes and nose. However, he suppressed the Ein he was going to release.

—I am the Mad Saint King, the warden of the abyss. My duty is to prevent the chaos that seeks to flow into this world. Do you know what that means?

Keter tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn’t open. In truth, the Mad Saint King had no intention of listening in the first place.

—Yes, exactly. It means I’m dreadfully bored because I cannot leave this place! That’s why I asked Killian to send someone who could take my place, but... this is disappointing.

Endless malice poured down upon Keter. He felt the chill of death. At that moment, without any command from Keter, the Terra Ring began to glow, shielding him.

The Mad Saint King grew enraged.

—You dare defend yourself without my permission? Atone with death.

Killian hadn’t been wrong. Keter hadn’t done anything, yet he was already on the verge of dying. But Keter was not the type to die quietly.

He unleashed the Ein he had tightly sealed away. As the pressure dissipated, Keter lifted his head and glared toward where he presumed the Mad Saint King to be.

—What?!

Kron, who had been about to pass judgment on Keter, recoiled in shock. The crushing pressure vanished as if it had never been there.

What?

Keter couldn’t understand why the Mad Saint King was acting that way.

—You... What is your name?

It wasn’t that Killian had deliberately withheld Keter’s name from the Mad Saint King; the Mad Saint King had simply never once been curious about anyone else’s name, so Killian didn’t feel the need to tell him.

Now that the pressure was gone, Keter could answer.

“Keter.”

—Keter!

At the sound of his name, the Mad Saint King was shocked again—so shocked that the abyss itself seemed on the verge of collapsing.

“Do you know me?”

Keter didn’t know the Mad Saint King. This was their first meeting, and they were about to fight. Yet the Mad Saint King spoke as if he already knew him.

—How could I not know you?

Keter felt that the Mad Saint King’s tone had softened.

—Come closer. It’s all right.

The sudden familiarity only made Keter more uneasy, until the next words made him doubt his own ears.

—My son has finally come to find me.