The room is dark.

A man kneels inside it, his body bound in chains as his head hangs low.

Though the room is vast and was once filled with all kinds of luxuries, all of those excesses have been removed.

The murals on the walls have all been blocked off by thick sheets and the cover of darkness.

In this domain, there exists only one person.

The kneeling man.

Naked.

On his back are several scars.

Some are from whips, others from searing hot metal casts. He also has laceration scars and several patches that represent barely closed wounds.

Although many will consider this a hideous appearance, the man displays it proudly.

His back is hunched.

His body is still… silent… solemn.

As if in prayer.

Then, he moves.

With quick motion, he draws his arms closer to each other, flexing his bulging muscles.

Instantly, the chains snap.

He rips off the metal bracelets on both wrists as though they were brittle paper. Then, he snaps the constraints that bind his feet.

Only after that does he target crack open the thick metallic choker that presses on his neck.

Once all of this is done, he slowly exhales.

Then… he rises to his feet.

"Haaa…"

He stretches his body, raising his hands in practiced motion.

The muscles on his back are fully displayed with these movements, displaying his monstrous physique.

Standing at nearly seven feet tall, this juggernaut of a man had muscles that would put any Knight or professional fighter to shame.

Many would call it the epitome of human achievement—the peak of human ability.

So he stands at the apex.

The apex of evolution—a being of unmatched strength and latent potential.

Kalakuta!

"... As always, it is unpleasant."

After whispering these words, he leaves the darkness and walks towards the entrance of the room.

After knocking only once, the door opens, and a robe is passed to him from outside.

He grunts softly as he wears the simple-looking but thick fur robe, finally shrouding his nakedness.

Only after doing this does he proceed outside.

Once he does, he is greeted by tall men with respectable physiques. However, compared to him, they might as well be children.

"How was your night, Chief?" The two men blow once they ask him.

"It was… the same." He responds, almost absentmindedly.

With long overflowing black hair and tough ebony skin filled with scars, this man appears intimidating even without an inkling of violence in his countenance.

He looks gentle.

Considerate.

Wise.

"I already told you to stop calling me Chief. There is no need for unnecessary hierarchy during normal times. There should only be divisions and a chain of command in battle."

"U-understood… Kalakuta."

"Yes… Kalakuta."

He smiles once he hears those words.

Patting the two men on their shoulders, he nods in appreciation and flashes a smile filled with much kindness.

"Thank you, my brothers."

He only leaves after saying this, walking a lonely path in the corridor as his followers stare at him with deep respect.

This is the Righteous Hero of the Forgotten.

The Liberator of Slaves.

Slayer of the Corrupt.

Terror to the Wicked.

King of Nothing.

Ruler of None.

Chief of the Freedom Fighters!

The Mighty Ebony Giant… Kalakuta!

*******

"We sent a search party as you requested, and we finally found our brethren who were sent after the fleeing party. They were all dead—no survivors."

In the vast meeting hall, there was silence.

All had grim expressions.

Even Kalakuta.

He was seated cross-legged on a mat, and his fellows were also seated on the same mat—though they had kneeling postures instead.

He had told them several times to sit however they wanted, but these people were adamant to sit like this.

Since it was against his principle to force the actions of others, he let them be.

This isn't time to think about that, though.

Right now, something worrying has happened, a scenario that even he could not have anticipated.

'We took down the Empire a week ago. Although some escaped, they were supposed to be captured and brought back several days ago. When they didn't, I had Kamal send scouts to check on their wellbeing. To think they all perished…'

It feels unbelievable to even conceive.

These were a thousand warriors!

Seasoned fighters!

His own brothers in arms!

'The escapees weren't even up to hundred. In terms of skill, most Imperial Knights aren't even their match. Even if the ones who escaped were the cream of the crop, their skills would only be relative to our warriors.' Kalakuta's brow creases up as he considers this.

He is well aware of the state of the Empire.

Of its deep-seated corruption.

Most Imperial Knights don't actually get their positions through merit but instead through their connections.

Nepotism is the name of the game.

They also have very little combat experience, and rather than training in practical fighting styles, they use flashy movements instead.

This is why Kalakuta considers most of these Imperial Knights inferior to his own people.

These people have survived in all kinds of harsh climates, living in the Northern Mountain, exploring the Western Tundras, and eventually taking down the Eastern Archipalegos.

Only after amassing enough power did they finally challenge the mighty Northern Empire and successfully take it down.

His brothers have seen countless wars.

They have survived many battles alongside him. He would trust them with his very life, and all of them know this.

'So how did they all die?'

These conflicting thoughts swirl in Kalakuta's mind as he tries to reconcile his own perception of these people with the news he has just received.

"We also saw many corpses belonging to the Empire's Knights. But it appears about thirty survived and made it into No Man's Land."

"No man's land, huh…?" Kalakuta's expression turns darker.

That is the only place hasn't dared to venture into. Despite his great strength, he has never once mistaken himself to be invincible.

Kalakuta is no god.

He is a man.

He knows that traversing the endless wilderness is suicide.

This is what has discouraged the Central Plains from invading the Northern Empire despite their close proximity.

They cannot cross No Man's Land.

As for the Western and Eastern Nations respectively, they had fought with the Northern Empire in the past, but they now have a non-aggression pact.

Kalakuta knows all of these details.

After all, even though there is relative peace in this continent, it wasn't always this way.

Many have forgotten, but he hasn't.

He still remembers…

The times when blood and fires painted the world he knew. The wars that were fought on behalf of these rulers who had neither pride nor honor.

Countless lives lost… immeasurable blood shed… just to satisfy the interests of those in power.

And all for what?

The battles were abandoned, swept under the rug once the higher-ups reached an agreement.

But what about the lives that were lost?

What of the people affected?

The families ruined?

Absurd!

How absolutely absurd!

This is why Kalakuta fights—why he refuses to forget!

Those atrocities happened.

He is living proof.

So, rather than live with a false sense of security and pretend the world is fine, he has chosen to do something about it.

Along the way, he met those he called his brothers.

And he found those he calls his wives.

All these fateful encounters…

… They are a sign from the heavens.

They tell him his path is true.

His cause is right!

Liberation… True Freedom!

This is the cause of the Freedom Fighters… The ideal of Kalakuta.

"I assume you have arranged for their corpses to be brought back…" Kalakuta sighs, staring at Kamal, the man who was speaking earlier.

"Yes, Kalakuta." The much older man responds with serenity, his body light and thin, a sharp contrast to Kalakuta's.

"Good. We will host a proper burial for them once the corpses arrive."

"What about the survivors?"

"What is there to fear?" Kalakuta sighs, his gaze remaining distant. "The wilderness will consume them. Even if they manage to survive, they will be of very little concern."

"But—"

"I know your worries. The spy did tell us about an Imperial Sanctuary that could offer them safety. It is possible that they could find safety and even rejuvenation in such a place. But I am not worried. Do you know why?"

All the nine members who sit before him stare with curiosity.

They watch as he forms a light smile.

"Because I know that greedy man… the Emperor. He will certainly make a premature move against us. That's why we should simply wait and be expectant."

Although Kalakuta shows an exterior of confidence, he isn't without caution.

Despite his appearance, this man is no boor.

In fact, many consider him shrewd.

How else could he have banded together a ragtag group of people and led them against an entire Nation?

Tens of thousands follow his words.

They believe in him.

Because of their trust in him, they were able to take down the Northern Empire—one of the five rulers of the known world.

Not only did Kalakuta make contact with a spy, but he also expertly used the information they provided to advance his scheme. He even managed to uncover the plans of the Imperial Family regarding the Great Bridgeworks!

"No matter what happens, we can't let The Great Bridgeworks succeed. Even we are no match for the combined might of those Nations."

"Agreed." One other member of the council, Jeophrey, spoke up. "We have to assume that those two are part of the thirty who escaped."

"Tyrrion and Enryndal, huh? We didn't see them flee, but they had to be within one of those carriages. My men and I tried to shoot down as many Imperial Knights as we could, but we had to be careful not to target the carriages, since we didn't know which one they occupied." Garret speaks in addition to the words of his comrades.

Several others add their thoughts, and Kalakuta nods at them for the most part.

Only after they finish does he speak.

"It's a good thing that the runaways have trapped themselves in the wilderness. They won't be able to traverse No Man's Land to reach the Central Plains. Likewise, returning to the Northern Empire will spell their doom."

"I will make sure security is tight around the border. They won't be able to sneak in even if they tried."

"Thank you, Khalil."

Kalakuta's smile broadens even more now.

Although the deaths of his comrades sadden him, this is still a momentous occasion.

"Our brothers knew there would have to be sacrifices for this great cause. Their souls will watch over us as we continue in our mission."

Everyone nods and bows their head.

"The Northern Empire is only the beginning. Once we calculate our losses and absorb our gains, we will set our sights on another Nation and bring down the corrupt leaders who occupy their thrones!" Kalakuta rises to his feet at this point, raising both hands as he declares with a passion.

"We won't stop until all lands are liberated and all people are equal!"

"For freedom!" They all shout in the room.

"For liberation!"

"For justice."

"... For Kalakuta!"

********

This isn't good.

My Apotheosis hasn't ended yet.

I'm still stuck in this Trial Scenario, even though I have no idea what exactly I'm supposed to do now.

It has been a whole week since I began my Trial Scenario, and although we made it to the Sanctuary safely, I see no other possible routes.

'The Sanctuary is a large underground bunker that has a lot of stored foods and preserved water. It also has many rooms that are more than sufficient for us. But…' As I lay on my bed and stare at the dimly lit ceiling, I can't help but ponder on the most important question.

Where do we go from here?

What can we do?

The answer I have come up with after much speculation… is NOTHING!

We are trapped!

'The Central Plains exist beyond No Man's Land, but it's too far away and the wilderness is too dangerous to tread.' I sigh in frustration, thinking of the other alternative.

'We also can't return to the Northern Empire.'

The Kalakuta warriors, or Freedom Fighters as they call themselves, will surely swarm the border.

'If helping the Great Bridgeworld succeed is the goal of this Trial Scenario, how exactly am I supposed to make that happen?' Right as I am thinking of this, a sudden thought enters my head.

Almost like a flash of inspiration.

'Wait… why didn't I think of this before?'

Why…

… Did I think that No Man's Land is so dangerous?

The Desert Creatures?

But what precisely are these things? Are they not Magivores in the end?

So…

"Can't I just use Existential Compulsion on them?"

How could I forget something so important?

No… did I really forget?

In my mind, I simply concluded that Magivores couldn't be reasoned with, so I never thought to use Existential Compulsion.

A fault on my part.

But… I can't help but find this unnatural.

This isn't like me at all.

'Could it be due to the influence of this body?' I ask myself, shuddering at the sudden realization.

'Then, does that mean—?!'

I jump to my feet, feeling beads of sweat form on my face.

'The longer this Trial Scenario drags on, the further my memories will be eroded?'

[A/N: I'm sure some readers would have been quick to point out my 'mistake' in the previous chapter. If Javier can control Magivores, he should have done so against the Desert Wyrm and the other Magivores he encountered on this journey. Well… I hope you are somewhat satisfied now.]

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