Journey to Become the Zenith

Chapter 239: The Weight of a Borrowed Body

The Weight of a Borrowed Body

Azriel who left after he was done talking with Henrick, that Azriel who looked and sounded dominating before, was now breathing heavily under a tree.

The night forest had become strangely quiet.

Cold wind drifted between the trees, carrying the smell of damp soil and blood from the battlefield far behind him. Moonlight slipped through gaps in the canopy, scattering silver patches across the ground. Leaves rustled softly overhead, but beneath that calm scenery, another sound existed.

Heavy breathing.

"Haa..."

"Haaa..."

Azriel leaned his back against the rough bark of a giant tree.

His chest rose and fell heavily.

Sweat had already soaked Victor’s black shirt underneath the golden jacket. The hand resting on his knee trembled slightly.

Though he looked relaxed when facing the enemies, in truth Azriel was already pushing Victor’s body to its very limits. The techniques he just used were his weakest, some of them weren’t even techniques just simple sword slashes, yet it took Victor’s body a great deal to do them.

His face twitched.

A sharp pain suddenly spread through his shoulder.

Then another through his ribs.

Then his legs.

"...Damn."

Azriel clicked his tongue.

The sensation wasn’t unfamiliar.

Pain itself meant little to him.

He had gone through wars that shattered mountains.

He had stood inside rivers of blood before.

He had fought battles where even the sky itself seemed to collapse.

Yet this...

This was a different kind of annoyance.

Azriel’s slashes moved in perfect harmony with everything he was.

Body. Mind. Spirit. Mana.

Every motion flowed together so naturally that, in his original body, he had never even noticed it. His physique had long surpassed the point where such strain mattered. Swinging his blades was as effortless as breathing.

But this body...

This weak, mortal body...

It couldn’t endure it.

Pain crawled through every muscle like burning needles.

His fingers twitched slightly.

Crack.

A sharp sound echoed from his joints, and the simple act of bending his hand sent agony shooting through his arm.

Azriel stared silently at the sky above him, broken rays of sunlight slipping through the trees.

"...Ridiculous."

The word came out low and dry.

For a second, he almost laughed.

Almost.

"I barely moved."

His voice was calm, yet there was disbelief hidden underneath it.

After a long pause, he exhaled slowly.

"No..."

Golden eyes narrowed faintly.

"That’s wrong."

His gaze drifted toward his trembling hand.

"This body barely moved."

Silence followed.

Then Victor’s memories surfaced again.

Training alone until his hands bled.

Pushing himself beyond exhaustion.

Fighting despite fear.

Standing back up no matter how many times life crushed him down.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Growing stronger step by step.

Azriel became quiet.

Fragments of emotion lingered within those memories.

The loneliness Victor buried deep inside himself.

The frustration of weakness.

The desperate desire to become stronger so nobody could look down on him again.

For the first time since awakening inside this body, Azriel’s expression softened slightly.

"...Hmph."

A faint scoff escaped him, though it lacked its usual coldness.

"This brat really did work hard."

His tone sounded casual, but there was faint acknowledgment inside it.

Victor wasn’t weak.

Not truly.

Compared to ordinary people, Victor’s body was already exceptional.

His mana capacity alone was monstrous.

The problem was simply—

Azriel wasn’t ordinary.

Comparing Victor to him was like comparing a newly forged sword to a divine weapon tempered across endless ages.

Even mountains would seem small beside the heavens.

At this moment he could not move a single muscle, if someone were to attack him at this moment, they had a slight chance of victory since he couldn’t evade. So he cast an illusion spell in the surrounding area. If people passed by they would only see a bunch of trees clustered together.

Soft blue symbols suddenly appeared around him.

Runes floated silently in the air.

They spun slowly.

Then dissolved into countless tiny lights.

The surrounding scenery distorted slightly.

Like water rippling beneath moonlight.

Everything returned to normal afterward.

Yet if someone looked from outside—

Nothing existed there.

Only trees.

Only darkness.

Only ordinary forest.

Azriel closed his eyes afterward.

"Haa..."

For the first time since leaving that battlefield, he relaxed slightly.

The pain immediately became more noticeable.

His entire body felt like it had been beaten by thousands of hammers.

His muscles burned.

His bones ached.

Even breathing felt annoying.

’I thought it would have a bit of fun once I got out and moved a real body. Yet this body of the current incarnation is the weakest one yet. It is true that the amount of mana he holds is pretty huge and it keeps on slowly getting denser, but his physical body is too weak. If he uses Zenith Aura with this kind of body, it wouldn’t help him much. He needs to retrain himself from the ground up.’

Azriel frowned.

Then frowned harder.

"...How troublesome."

Retraining.

Again.

He had already done it countless times through countless incarnations.

Yet each time felt irritating.

Because strength wasn’t something gained overnight.

Muscles needed to adapt.

Bones needed to strengthen.

Mana pathways needed to widen.

Even breathing techniques needed rebuilding.

His eyes slowly opened.

He stared at his hand.

Victor’s hand.

Long fingers.

Calluses from training.

Small scars.

Not weak.

Just incomplete.

A faint smirk slowly appeared.

"Heh."

"Interesting."

Pain or not—

Potential existed.

And enormous potential at that.

Even Azriel had to admit it.

Victor’s mana pool was absurdly large for his current age.

The density kept increasing naturally without external help.

As if his body itself was unconsciously evolving.

"Hmmm..."

Golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"Looks like there’s more hiding inside this brat than I thought."

The wind blew past quietly.

Leaves drifted downward around him.

Far away, some nocturnal beast let out a low cry.

Everything felt peaceful.

Then—

Crack.

Azriel’s eyebrow twitched.

"..."

Crack.

Another muscle suddenly cramped.

"..."

His expression darkened.

"Damn weak body."

Azriel continued to grumble about Victor’s weak body as he tried to heal himself.