Can’t Define a monster

⸻

Chapter 10 – [Top 6 Rankings – YCT Round 1]

Top 6 Rankings:

1.Arthur Valerian – 3,000 points

2.Feldine Sagnius – 2,300 points

3.Julien Reinhart – 1,800 points

4.Georgina Evans – 1,500 points

5.Nyx Akers – 1,300 points

6.Davis Aisenworth – 1,000 points

Julien stared at the ranking board without much surprise.

"As expected," he muttered under his breath. "Arthur or Feldine… no one else could take the top two spots."

His expression remained calm, but his eyes narrowed slightly at the fifth name.

Nyx Akers.

He had never heard of that name before. No noble house. No prominent merchant family. It rang no bells—not even among the minor baronies.

He clicked his tongue. "He's ranked above Davis… which means Davis is probably seething right now."

Julien turned toward his retainer.

"Jin, have you ever heard of anyone with the surname Akers?"

Jin bowed respectfully. "No, Young Master. The name isn't listed in any noble registry or trade guild archives."

Julien raised an eyebrow. "Then… a commoner?"

"I believe so, Young Master."

A small grin crept onto Julien's lips. "A commoner surpassing a noble… this is going to be interesting."

In theory, the Elydrion Empire prided itself on equality. The First Emperor had famously declared, "All are equal under the skies of Elydrion." Generations of monarchs had echoed those words, promoting a vision of fairness and unity.

But reality was different.

Most nobles harbored deep-rooted prejudices. They viewed commoners as lesser—tools to be used, servants to be commanded, and threats only when armed with unnatural talent.

Only a few houses—like the Valerians or the Imperial family—still upheld the original ideal.

Julien recalled the sayings whispered in noble gatherings:

"You can teach a dog to walk upright, but it's still a dog."

He had heard countless phrases like that.

As a child, he too believed commoners were inferior. But as he grew older, he began to question that belief.

His father, Count Reinhart, though strict and cold, respected strength above bloodline. He had even appointed Jin—a commoner—as his personal retainer.

"Young Master, it's time to go. Your brother is waiting for you at the warp gate," Jin said.

Julien snapped out of his thoughts. "What brother?" he asked, voice tinged with disgust.

Jin looked troubled. He had raised Julien since childhood and knew just how much he resented hearing about his stepbrother.

"He came under the Patriarch's orders," Jin said carefully.

Julien's anger eased a little. "Father's orders?"

"Yes, Young Master."

Julien narrowed his eyes. "Let's go."

⸻

Meanwhile…

In the heart of Valerian County stood a towering structure that seemed to pierce the heavens. Runes shimmered along its walls, pulsing with arcane energy. The Crimson Magic Tower—as wide as ten football fields—buzzed with mages and artificers in glowing robes.

A black-haired boy with golden eyes gazed up at it in awe.

"So this is the Crimson Magic Tower…" Arthur murmured.

Back on Earth, he had seen skyscrapers and architectural marvels, but none compared to this.

Beside him, Rubina Valerian—his mother and a peak Rank 7 Archmage—smiled.

"Haha, do you like Mommy's workplace, baby?"

Arthur turned to her. "Mother, why did you bring me here?"

Rubina chuckled. "Because the thing you asked for… can only be made here."

⸻

Flashback – After Round 1 Victory

Arthur stood before his father, Count Alaric Valerian.

"Say your wish," Alaric said. "I'll grant it."

Arthur blinked. "Uh…"

Alaric laughed. "Come on, say it already."

Arthur thought deeply. He had a powerful defensive artifact. What He wants to form his core. He was thinking of asking for a level advancement potion, but then dismissed the idea. Potions and shortcuts didn't appeal to him. He wanted to walk his path through effort.

With his three unique skills and the blessing of a divine entity, he can surely reach the top of this world.

'That blessing… I still haven't seen what it does. What's the point of getting something "special" if it doesn't even activate?'

Arthur snapped out of his stupor and said,

"I want a sword—one that can grow with me, so I won't have to keep replacing weapons."

He had already thought it through—if he had a weapon like that, he wouldn't need to switch to another one later. Also, the YCT doesn't allow artifacts above Rank 1, which is why he can't even use his defensive earing.

Count Alaric's gaze sharpened. An upgradeable weapon was rare—and smiths capable of crafting them even rarer.

"I'll inform you when it's ready."

Arthur bowed and left.

Moments later, Alaric picked up a magical communicator and dialed.

[Hello, hubby.]

[Hello, Rubina. I need your help.]

He told her Arthur's wish.

Rubina laughed. [That's just like you.]

[What can I say? He takes after me,] Alaric replied.

[Alright, I'll take him to the Magic Tower. We just hired a peak ranked 6 artifact master recently.]

⸻

Back at the Magic Tower…

Arthur and his mother is walking into magic tower everyone is bowing towards them respectfully when they see them

"But Mom! Why did you barged into my room without knocking—I was changing!"

Rubina giggled. "Haha, little boy, I've changed your diapers. You shy now?"

Arthur flushed red.

As they walked through the corridors, every mage bowed respectfully to Rubina.

Arthur couldn't help but feel proud. After all his mother is tower master of crimson magic tower.

They entered a magical lift and ascended to the 95th floor. There, the air was thick with magic. Blades gleamed, enchantments floated midair, and molten metal hissed as it was poured into rune molds.

"Arthur, come," Rubina said.

They finally reached a quiet chamber, where only the soft crackle of fire could be heard.

An old man with steel-forged muscles and a long white beard carefully etched runes onto a glowing bow.

Arthur activated his appraisal skill.

[Cannot view. Target's level exceeds yours by over five times.]

He murmured . 'Seriously? This skill is useless sometimes.'

Rubina smiled. "Thorne, this is my son."

The man didn't even look up. "Welcome, Tower Master," he said curtly.

Arthur frowned slightly.

"You're still as warm as ever," Rubina joked.

"What do you need?"

"I want you to forge an upgradeable sword for him."

Thorne looked up at Arthur, eyes narrowing.

"That's difficult. Ask for something else."

"I'll pay you ten times your monthly salary," Rubina replied casually.

Thorne paused. "Done."

Arthur blinked. So much for pride. This guy is loaded with greed.

"What're you staring at, kid? You think experiments run on rainbows and dreams?"

Rubina interrupted. "Save your rants. Just make the sword."

She turned to Arthur. "I have some matters to attend to. I'll leave the rest to you."

She vanished in a flash of light.

Thorne crossed his arms. "Come here, boy."

Arthur stepped forward.

"To make your sword, I need to gauge your Sword Spirit."

"Sword Spirit? What's that?"

"You've never heard of it?"

Arthur shook his head.

Thorne sighed. "It's a measurement. Every being—human, elf, vampire, werewolf, even dragons and demons—has a spirit aligned with a certain weapon or craft: sword, spear, magic, smithing… It reflects your natural affinity and talent."

He continued, "That's why it's usually tested when forming your core. If people find out their spirit is weak, many lose motivation and give up before even trying."

Arthur nodded, thinking, Yeah, back on Earth too… people give up before they even begin, just because they think they're not talented.

"How do I test it?"

"Hit that stone tablet over there with your full strength. Your Sword Spirit rating will appear on the screen beside it."

Arthur nodded and drew his sword.

He gathered mana into the blade and infused it with lightning. A storm crackled around him.

My strong attack it is Heaven's Descent… but i need something else something more stronger i need to focused. What if I combine it with Thunder Strike… condense it into a single-point slash…

He raised his blade like a katana and murmured:

[Heaven Breaker]

With a flash, he vanished and reappeared in front of the tablet, slashing down in one swift, devastating motion.

Silence.

The stone tablet remained intact.

Arthur blinked. "Did it… do nothing?"

Then he looked at the screen.

[Can't Define]

Arthur frowned. "What does that mean?"

Thorne approached, examining the screen and tablet with narrowed eyes. "What the hell…?"

Arthur asked again, "What does 'Can't Define' mean?"

Thorne looked shaken.

"You… cracked the outer runic layer. That thing has twelve enchantments—it's not supposed to budge from a Rank 0's hit."

Arthur's eyes widened. "I cracked it?"

"The diagnostic system glitched. It couldn't classify your Sword Spirit. That's what 'Can't Define' means. Either it's broken—or you're a freak."

Arthur scratched his head. "Is that good or bad?"

Thorne chuckled darkly. "Hell if I know. But the only other person this ever happened to ended up becoming a Sword Saint."

"A what?"

"A Sword Saint. The peak of the sword path. One in a generation—if they survive."

He took a puff of his pipe.

"If your spirit can't be defined, it means your potential doesn't follow normal rules. You don't just have talent—you have something… unnatural inside you."

Arthur stood silent, letting it all sink in.

Thorne pointed the pipe at him. "Don't get cocky. Potential means nothing if you don't bleed for it."

Arthur nodded. "I wasn't planning to slack off."

Thorne grinned. "Good. I'll make your sword. Not just any sword. A soul-bound, upgradeable weapon worthy of that freakish spirit."

Arthur's eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"Yes. But it'll take time. It needs to resonate with your mana, sync with your aura, and match your fighting style."

"How long?"

"A week.I'll need rare materials—mithril, storm crystal, a sliver of void steel… and your blood."

Arthur blinked. "My blood?"

"Just a few drops. For a soul-bound weapon, I need your essence."

Arthur nodded and made a small cut on his fingertip. Thorne caught the drops in a glowing vial.

"Perfect," the old man said.

As he turned toward the forge, he muttered, "Come back in a week. If you're lucky, I'll be alive. If not, this sword will be my magnum opus and my tombstone."

Arthur laughed. "Thanks, old man."

"Don't thank me yet. Once it's done—you'll have no excuse to lose anymore."