Avatar of the Absolute Martial God

“Oh!”

Maka’s eyes widened in surprise as he gazed at the platinum-colored orb Jang-il had drawn. 

The playful glint that had been present in his expression moments ago had completely vanished. Jang-il, feeling uneasy, hesitated before speaking.

“D-Did I pick the wrong one?”

Maka neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he simply let out an impressed sigh before explaining the reason for his astonishment.

“If the universe were a person, it would still be a mere child, just beginning to stretch its limbs. And you, a being of no particular rank within it, are like a mere speck of dust. That is why I find this hard to believe. Even with the best luck, you should have only been able to draw a 2-star authority at most… but you have pulled a 10-star authority.”

“10-star…?”

Jang-il, not understanding the significance of this, looked even more confused. Noticing this, Maka elaborated further.

“To put it simply, the odds of you drawing a 10-star authority were far less than one in ten quintillion. In other words, an impossible outcome. And yet, you have accomplished it.”

“……”

Jang-il, though barely educated, understood enough to grasp just how utterly absurd the situation was.

And yet, for some reason, Maka’s expression remained uneasy.

The reason was simple.

“No matter what authority you have obtained, as a bearer of a 10-star power, you will no longer be easy to kill. However, the real issue is you. Your current being is far too weak to properly wield this authority. At best, you might be able to access the power of a 1-star.”

That should have been a frustrating realization—yet Jang-il’s face brightened.

Maka, a being of immense power, would not speak empty words. That meant he now had a chance to survive.

Seeing his thoughts so plainly written on his face, Maka let out a dry chuckle.

In that moment, he was reminded of just how insignificant and fleeting a mortal truly was.

Still, he continued.

“But because you are inherently a 10-star, even if you can only manifest a fraction of its power, its nature will be vastly different from that of a mere 1-star. You will at least have the ability to break free from certain laws, meaning your potential will be at least 2-star level or higher.”

That statement carried profound implications.

However, to Jang-il, it was all still an abstract concept—something he would only truly understand through experience.

—Rumble!

At that moment, a tremendous cry rang out, shaking the very air around them.

Jang-il flinched at the sheer force of it, but Maka simply frowned.

“Tch! Is it because this star is still young? How reckless… I had planned to stay and witness your authority’s awakening, but it seems I will not have that luxury.”

Casually mentioning that the scream belonged to the star itself, Maka quickly turned back to Jang-il.

“To obtain your authority, you must consume it. Hurry—once I vanish, the laws binding this world will be lifted.”

“U-Understood.”

Jang-il didn’t know exactly what was happening, but he did understand one thing—if the world returned to its original state, his fate would be sealed.

Without hesitation, he brought the platinum-colored orb to his mouth.

It was larger than expected, making him wonder if he could even swallow it.

But that concern was unnecessary.

—Shhh…

The moment it entered his mouth, the orb dissolved like mist, seeping effortlessly into his body.

And yet—contrary to his expectations—nothing happened.

Puzzled, Jang-il instinctively turned to look at Maka.

But Maka was already gone.

“!!?”

Jang-il hadn’t expected him to disappear so abruptly, and his eyes wavered in shock.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

—Rumble!

The eerie cry echoed once more—

And then, as if time itself had been freed, the world began to move again.

At first, it was sluggish, like a slow yawn. But gradually, the pace increased.

—Clench!

Jang-il understood what this meant.

There was no time to hesitate.

He tightened his grip on his sword—

And with the lingering strength left in his body, he forced himself to move.

He had no choice but to head toward the side, as moving forward or backward was impossible.

But soon, he ran into a new problem.

In the direction he was heading, a towering warrior—standing seven feet tall and radiating a terrifying aura—was wreaking havoc across the battlefield.

Jang-il was merely a beginner in martial arts.

There was no way he could ever hope to face such a being.

He had to run.

But there was another issue—

He had nowhere to run.

There was only one option left—a gamble.

‘He hasn’t noticed me yet.’

Or perhaps… he simply hadn’t deemed him worth noticing.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

Although the flow of the world was gradually returning to normal, it was still moving at a sluggish pace.

A fleeting moment—just a brief instant—was all that was needed.

Jang-il unleashed every last ounce of his strength, pushing himself to his very limit.

And the result was nothing short of astounding.

—Hup! Slash!

‘?’

Jang-il, moving alone at speeds dozens of times faster than everything else, suddenly appeared at the enemy commander’s side. No matter how skilled an elite warrior he was, he had no time to react.

Only after his head was severed did his eyes widen in disbelief, as if finally understanding what had happened.

Just like that, Jang-il successfully claimed the enemy commander’s head.

‘What a waste…’

For a brief moment, Jang-il had a regretful thought.

Had the situation been just a little different, simply claiming this head would have earned him an enormous achievement.

Perhaps… it could have even granted him an early retirement from this wretched battlefield.

But that was nothing more than a passing delusion.

Snapping back to reality, Jang-il gripped his sword once more and resumed his movement.

—Stab! Slash! Clang!

Cutting and stabbing his way through anyone who stood in his path, Jang-il pressed forward.

However, before long, his limbs grew heavy.

It wasn’t just exhaustion—

The once sluggish flow of time, which had slowed to a crawl, had now sped up to single-digit levels.

Naturally, this meant there were now enemies capable of blocking his crude sword strikes.

From that moment on, Jang-il found himself rolling across the ground, desperately avoiding attacks.

Before he knew it, time had sped up to five times its normal rate.

“Cheong-dan? What’s that brat doing here?”

“Does it matter~?”

“That guy just took down that bastard commander~!”

“In that case—welcome!”

In what could only be described as a stroke of luck, Jang-il, while tumbling to evade attacks, stumbled upon an elite unit from his own army.

Their leader, immediately recognizing Jang-il’s unit, found it odd that he was alone. However, upon hearing his subordinates’ cheers, he let it slide.

After all, the enemy commander Jang-il had slain was a relentless adversary who had relentlessly pursued their forces.

Though technically only a Hundred-Man Commander, his skill was on par with that of a Thousand-Man Commander—a true monster.

For Jang-il to have slain such an opponent was beyond belief.

If anything, their leader was tempted to shower him with kisses out of sheer joy.

“What are you standing around for? Get him up!”

“Got it. Hey, can you stand?”

“Huff… Huff…”

Jang-il, unaware of the significance of the enemy he had killed, was puzzled by their kindness.

But his confusion quickly turned into dismay.

He could tell—the bizarre distortion of time had completely returned to normal.

His internal energy was drained.

The physical strength he had forced out of himself was nearly depleted.

He no longer had any chances left to survive.

—Slash! Clang! Clang!

“Push forward! Keep pushing!”

“What are you waiting for? Clear the path!”

“Commander! What are you doing?”

“Alright, let’s move, you bastards!”

Despite his bleak situation, there was one glimmer of hope—

The unit he had stumbled upon was composed of elite soldiers.

And they knew how dire the battlefield situation was.

The moment the enemy commander fell, they wasted no time carving out a path to retreat.

Especially their leader—who was as skilled as any Hundred-Man Commander—proved to be a decisive factor.

“Huff… Huff…!”

Seeing a chance to survive, Jang-il pushed himself forward, struggling to keep up with them.

Simply following their pace was already overwhelming.

Noticing his struggle, the commander turned to him and barked out,

“Hold on! Just keep up, and you’re guaranteed a promotion!”

For a soldier who had only served a year, getting promoted was a big deal.

Most soldiers had to survive at least five years just to become a Ten-Man Commander.

‘I don’t care about that.’

But to Jang-il, those words did nothing to lift his spirits.

Ambitious men might have been overjoyed, but he…

What he truly wanted was to return home.

If his master had been alive, perhaps he would have felt differently—

But his master had died.

Right before his very eyes, in the most horrific way possible.

—Grit!

Yet, just like anyone else, he wanted to live.

And so, grinding his teeth, he ran.

And ran.

And ran.

—“Aaargh!”

—Slash!

“These bastards just won’t die, will they?!”

As the enemy, consumed by the madness of battle, continued to charge, the commander deflected a spear thrust and lopped off another head.

Though irritated, a flicker of hope shone in his eyes.

The resistance at the rear was stronger than expected, but there was hope in breaking through the battlefield’s flank to create an escape route.

However, Jang-il’s complexion was far from good.

—Kuhk! Kuhhk!

His breathing was completely wrecked from pushing his body beyond its limits while already being drained of strength. His face, once darkened by soot and grime, had turned deathly pale. His lips, no longer merely colorless, were now tinged with an eerie shade of purple.

For him to survive, someone needed to carry him forward.

But unfortunately, there was no such person here.

No—rather, the fact that they had even allowed him to tag along without lifting his sword was already an act of great generosity.

—Tremble…! Thud!

In the end, Jang-il tripped over a rock and collapsed with a resounding crash.

“Huff… Huff… Kuhk!”

—Thud!

And as if it had been lying in wait, a razor-sharp spear shot through the air—and pierced straight through his body.

“Damn it! Why the hell are you tripping now?!”

The so-called “commander” of the group shouted in frustration as Jang-il convulsed from the unbearable pain.

But that was all he did.

He had his own subordinates to protect—he wasn’t about to risk everything just to save one soldier.

—Stab! Stab!

And with that, even the faintest glimmer of hope was snuffed out.

A second spear pierced through his back.

Jang-il’s body trembled violently, his silent screams swallowed by the sheer agony crashing over him.

‘No… No…! Is this really how I die?!’

The death he had narrowly escaped so many times now loomed over him, inescapable and merciless.

Overwhelmed by terror, Jang-il succumbed to his fate.

And then—

Something unbelievable happened.

[The condition for the awakening of the Authority: Clone (Death) has been fulfilled.]

[The 10-star Authority Clone has been downgraded to 2-star due to the user’s influence.]

[Due to its downgrade, the Great Laws are interfering with the Authority’s manifestation.]

A system message—something reminiscent of modern games—appeared before him.

And from its contents, one thing became clear.

The condition for awakening the Authority that Maka had granted him—was death itself.

Every Authority required certain conditions to be met before awakening.

This was precisely why Maka had wanted to keep an eye on Jang-il until that moment came.

If he was unlucky, he could have lived his entire life without ever awakening it.

Despite this, Maka had chosen to withdraw without hesitation—for two reasons.

The first was the risk of Jang-il’s existence being exposed if Maka tried too hard to manipulate the laws of the stars.

If the divine entities of this world took notice, Jang-il would become an irresistible prey for them.

It was a risk Maka could not afford.

The second reason was simple—Maka believed in Jang-il’s luck.

Jang-il was someone who had already defied a one-in-ten-quintillion chance to obtain a 10-star ability.

If that wasn’t proof of extraordinary luck, then what was?

And as it turned out, Maka’s judgment was correct.

In the blink of an eye, Jang-il had died, fulfilling the condition for awakening.

Though, there was one unexpected outcome.

Contrary to Maka’s expectations, the awakened Clone Authority wasn’t at 1-star—it was 2-star.

This was only possible because Clone required the ultimate price—death—to manifest.

Had it not been for this extreme condition, Jang-il would have needed countless years to reach even 2-star.

Regardless of the details, Jang-il’s death had awakened a bizarre and terrifying Authority.

And with it—the fate of the entire continent had become more uncertain than ever.

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