Lord of Caldera - Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Chapter 78
Sylas, who had been brooding, suddenly looked up with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“There might be a way.”

“A way, you say?” Lydia asked, curious.

“Take a good look at this sword,” Sylas replied, presenting the blade.

Sylas drew the sword from his waist and held it out with both hands. Lydia, gazing at the magnificent sword, couldn’t help but utter a word of admiration.

“What a beautiful sword.”

“Yes, it’s said to be a holy sword found in a dungeon.”

“A holy sword?!”

Lydia was taken aback. A holy sword, the weapon known to be the bane of demons! To think that it had been right before her eyes all this time without her realizing it!

“But there’s a problem with this holy sword,” Sylas added.

“A problem?” Lydia asked, confused.

“Despite the immense power stored within, due to its long dormancy, we can’t access any of that power.”

“That can’t be…!”

In reality, it wasn’t that the sword was powerless; it simply refused to lend its strength. But Sylas, seeing Lydia’s disheartened expression, wiped away the somber mood and spoke with newfound optimism.

“But there’s a way. From what I’ve heard, sometimes the power contained in sacred relics can be transferred to a saint.”

“Yes, there are those who have gained power from sacred relics. However, once the power is transferred, the relic’s strength weakens or disappears entirely.”

“If that’s the case, perhaps you, Lady Saint, could attempt to gain the power of this sword. If anyone can, it would be you.”

“Me? Gain the power of the holy sword?” Lydia’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected suggestion. Hearing the conversation, the cursed sword at Sylas’s waist burst into laughter.

“What a fool! Does he think I’m a relic? I’m just a cursed sword! Even if it were possible, would I allow it?”

“You can do it, Lady Saint. I truly believe that,” Sylas said, ignoring the mocking voice of the sword and extending it toward Lydia once more. She hesitated, still unsure of how to respond.

“But even if it’s possible, won’t the sword’s power diminish? Isn’t this your sword, Sylas?”

“It’s a holy sword made to save lives. How could I hesitate or be stingy with its power when it chose me for this very purpose?”

“Oh!” Lydia was deeply moved. In a world where lords would let their people starve to keep their precious warhorses, here was someone willing to sacrifice such a rare and valuable sword to save lives! Her heart swelled with emotion.

“Alright. I’ll give it a try.”

“I believe in you, Lady Saint.”

Without hearing the cursed sword’s mocking voice, Lydia approached the sword. Sylas gave her some additional advice.

“Don’t think of it as transferring power. Think of it as inhaling.”

“Inhaling?”

“Yes, breathe in the sword’s power, as though you were drawing it into your body. I’ve heard it’s more effective that way.”

“That’s interesting. I’ll try.”

Closing her eyes, Lydia followed Sylas’s instructions. She took deep breaths, visualizing the process. Inhale the power, draw the sword’s energy into her body as if she were breathing it in.

“Bahaha! I can’t take it anymore! What kind of clown act is this?!” the cursed sword mocked, laughing. But suddenly, its laughter turned into a scream. The power was truly being drawn from it.

“What… What is happening?! Why is my power…?! I never intended to give it away!”

“It’s working! It’s really working!” Lydia exclaimed, astonished.

“Keep going! The holy sword is willingly sharing its power with you!” Sylas encouraged her, still oblivious to the sword’s distress.

“No, no! Stop this! You must stop right now!” the cursed sword shrieked. With each breath Lydia took, the sword wailed in terror. What she was absorbing wasn’t just raw power; it was the essence that made the sword a cursed weapon—its very soul.

“Why is this happening?!”

‘It’s because she possesses the power of the Sacred Beast,’ thought Sylas. In ancient times, immortals weren’t uncommon, and many couldn’t even be killed by blessed heroes, so they were sealed away instead. But seals never lasted forever, so the goddess came up with a new solution.

“If they can’t be killed, why not devour them?”

And so the Sacred Beasts were created. Despite their holy name, their power was terrifying—they devoured and digested the souls and essences of all beings. Naturally, they became the source of fear for all spiritual entities. Even spirits were so afraid of the Sacred Beasts that they eventually had to be taken up to the heavens.

‘That’s how she defeated the demon in the past,’ Sylas recalled. Witnesses said that when the demon lunged at her, believing it had won, Lydia had devoured it. The Church had been in an uproar over the testimonies. A saint consuming a demon? That was far from any traditional notion of holiness.

Fortunately, after investigation, it was determined that her power came from the Sacred Beast, not some form of witchcraft or heresy. She avoided being branded a heretic or a witch, but the ominous image earned her the nickname The Black Saint. She wasn’t a heretic, nor a witch, but neither was she the pure, white saint they expected.

‘Given what the cursed sword is going through, it’s no wonder she got that nickname,’ Sylas thought.

“Please, spare me! Stop absorbing my power!” the sword screamed in sheer terror. Unlike the mist, which only caused pain, Lydia was siphoning off the very essence of the sword’s soul.

After a while, Lydia coughed and stopped.

“Cough! This is as far as I can go for now.”

“Is it impossible to take more?” Sylas asked.

“No, it’s just… if I were to put it crudely, it feels like I’m full. Once I digest what I’ve taken, I should be able to absorb more, but for now, it’s too much.”

“I see.”

So once she digested the power, she could absorb more. That was enough for now. After all, the sword had been of little use until now. If she could absorb even more later, it would be even better, not to mention the bond forming between her and the sword.

“How does it feel to have gained a part of the holy sword’s power?” Sylas asked.

“One moment. Let me test my divine power…”