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One day remained before the duel.

An entire month had passed—one that Ethan had spent in a completely different world from his own.

A life utterly unlike the one he had lived on Earth.

After the ergency eting of the hunters was dismissed, Ethan left with his squad. He had successfully convinced everyone with his explanation, and the threat of being questioned about what he had done was now gone.

"Is it really true... that my grandfather was the one who told you about the dungeon?"

Moon asked him that as they walked together outside.

Ethan answered with a smile, without the slightest hesitation.

"Yes. That’s right. I’m sorry for not telling all of you... but Sir Asterion asked to keep it secret until the very end."

It was a lie.

A complete and perfect lie.

But Ethan was skilled at lying—so skilled that he left no room for even those closest to him to doubt his words.

His companions believed him.

Yet they looked troubled.

As if what had happened had hurt them rather than pleased them.

Ethan found that strange. He couldn’t understand them... and that pushed him to ask,

"Is sothing wrong? You all look rather gloomy."

He asked innocently.

Raiden was the one who answered after a long silence, his expression carrying a quiet pain.

"We understand, Ethan. We understand that you had to keep everything from us... but forgive , old friend—it still hurts a little."

"What do you an?" Ethan asked with a frown.

Raiden let out a deep sigh before answering.

"You know, Ethan... this morning we were arguing about trying to convince you to withdraw. Because we were afraid we might see you die."

He clenched his fist.

"You may have lost your mories... but you’re still soone I consider a brother. The brother the heavens gave when my mother never gave one."

Raiden turned toward the rest of their squad.

"I’m sure everyone here feels the sa way about you... maybe even more strongly. We were afraid of seeing you die... afraid you might leave this world. I don’t know if they went through what I did... but I suffered terrible insomnia."

"I kept imagining that horrifying scene—your death right in front of ."

"For an entire month... we lived on edge."

"That’s why I tried to help you in every way I could. Even if it ant helping you dig that pit I thought was aningless at the ti."

"Raiden... I..."

Ethan tried to say sothing when he felt the weight of the young man’s words.

Even though he didn’t fully understand him... or his logic.

He still wanted to say sothing.

But Raiden raised a hand, stopping him.

"Don’t misunderstand, Ethan. We’re truly happy that you’ve beco stronger now—that you actually have a chance to win."

He smiled at him.

"But please... give us a little ti."

"When I realized that everything had been nothing but a play between you and Sir Asterion... my chest felt tight."

"A month of sleepless nights turned out to be built on a lie."

"I hated myself for it. Because instead of feeling happy for you... I found myself in pain."

Raiden turned away, giving Ethan one last smile.

"So please... just give so ti."

"And everything will return to how it was."

Then he left—without giving Ethan the chance to respond.

Confused, Ethan turned his head toward the rest of the squad.

But they followed Raiden silently.

Not a single word.

Because Raiden had already said everything they wanted to say.

What he truly ant was ...

’We wish you had told us... at least us. Your comrades who would never betray you.’

If he had done that... they wouldn’t have had to suffer every day imagining him dying before their eyes.

But Ethan hadn’t told them.

Because, quite simply... he didn’t feel any real connection to them.

He remained standing there alone, staring at the path they had taken.

After so ti, he gave a bitter smile.

"I don’t understand you guys. I don’t understand your pain."

"And I don’t understand... what mistake I made."

Ethan didn’t understand why he should have told them.

Human relationships were strange to him.

He had never experienced any of them in his life.

Yet sowhere inside his chest...

He felt a faint bitterness at seeing them like that.

"My plan was perfect... but this part, at least, wasn’t."

Ethan muttered as he finally turned and walked away.

Between him and the mbers of his squad—who cared deeply for him—

A crack had ford.

He seed close to them...

Yet at the sa ti, he was very far away.

Sotis pain doesn’t co from a blade.

Sotis it cos from sothing much simpler.

A kind of pain Ethan could not understand.

...

After walking alone for so ti, Ethan returned to his room.

He decided to isolate himself, locking the door until the ti of the duel arrived.

Night had already fallen.

But Ethan felt no desire to sleep.

Sitting at his desk, he began browsing through so of the books that had belonged to the body’s forr owner.

Everything was written in the language of the ga ...his native language making reading incredibly easy.

Yet after only a few lines, boredom quickly crept in.

They were books on philosophy and history.

Stories about the world and its past.

But they were filled with information Ethan already knew.

And so his interest faded quickly.

For several hours, he remained seated there...

Occasionally glancing toward the bed.

After so more ti passed, Ethan suddenly began laughing out loud.

"How strange... I’ve slept peacefully since the very first day I arrived here, yet tonight I can barely close my eyes."

In truth, he had suffered from terrible insomnia in the past ... sothing that once made sleep almost impossible.

And yet for an entire month, it had vanished completely.

Only to return tonight.

Leaning back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, Ethan began reflecting on everything that had happened since he arrived in this world.

"I pushed my body to its limits every day... whether by digging or training with the sword."

"As a result, I used to collapse into sleep the mont I entered my room. But today I did nothing... and just like that, the insomnia returned as if by magic."

He paused.

"It seems I still can’t bury the past."

Rembering the faces of his companions, Ethan wondered quietly,

"Did I cause them the sa kind of sleepless nights for the past month?"

"I slept peacefully... but at their expense?"

A laugh escaped him unconsciously.

"Could this be another deal from the Demon of Balance, I wonder?"

He kept laughing for a while longer before suddenly slapping his own face, regaining his composure.

"There’s no point thinking about that right now."

"I have a decisive duel tomorrow."

Focusing his thoughts on the duel between himself and Jas Heart, Ethan opened the Player System interface.

...

Na: Ethan Heart

Class: None

Level: 28

Current Souls: 65 Souls

Souls Required for Next Level: 4900 Souls

---

Vigor: 11 (Increases HP)

MP: 10 (Increases Mana)

Endurance: 10 (Increases Stamina)

Strength: 24 (Increases heavy weapon damage)

Dexterity: 10 (Increases speed-based weapon damage)

Intelligence: 10 (Increases magic power)

Faith: 10 (Increases holy incantation power)

Arcane: 23 (Increases luck and bleed effects)

---

Ethan glanced over his stats before fiddling with one of his Blessings.

"There’s sothing I want to test."

It concerned the Blessing (Class Change at Will), which allowed him to choose any class he wanted without restriction.

"In theory, I should be able to change classes whenever I want... but if the system works by leveling up and raising stats every ti, then this Blessing would be completely useless."

His reasoning was sound.

Right now, he was essentially a swordsman.

But if he wanted to use magic, he would have to raise Intelligence and Mana.

To do that, he would need to level up beyond 28—aning his progression would slow down drastically as the number of required souls increased each ti.

"To use two classes simultaneously, I would need to be at least level 50..."

"And that would limit greatly. It would also make it impossible to accurately determine my rank."

Normally, level 50 corresponded to the rank of Saint.

But if Ethan divided his stats—half into magic and the other half into swordsmanship—how would he even be classified?

Would he be a Saint-ranked knight?

A Saint-ranked mage?

Or neither?

"That makes no sense... and it isn’t practical."

"Which leads to believe that this isn’t how the Blessing works."

The ability already ca with a powerful drawback—forcing him to pay double the souls for every level.

It might not seem like a heavy price now.

But the higher his level rose, the harsher that cost would beco.

At so point, others might need 100,000 souls to level up...

While Ethan would need 200,000.

And the larger the number beca, the harder leveling would grow.

If he wanted to fight using multiple classes, then by that logic he would eventually need to reach a completely absurd level.

Which was impossible, no matter how many souls he gathered.

Convinced this wasn’t the true function of the ability, Ethan opened the player interface again and extended his hand.

"Class Change at Will... activate."

You are reading The Last Legendary Weapons Master: Rise of the strongest player Chapter 70: The Night Before the Duel on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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