Several hours later—
I had reached the deepest part of the Forest of Death, where I sent Aron to challenge the forest’s ruler—the Basilisk.
“Haah!”
Aron, his body strengthened by enhancement magic, swung his sword at the enormous, iguana-like monster. The Basilisk dodged with a backward leap and turned its shimmering golden eyes toward him.
“Aron!! Move exactly as I taught you!”
“Yes!”
Aron lowered his gaze, focusing on the creature’s legs instead of its eyes.
That was the anti-Basilisk tactic—one devised by Aron himself in the original story.
The Basilisk’s eyes could turn anyone who met its gaze to stone.
To fight it, one must predict its movements by watching its feet.
This was the event that led to Aron’s awakening—his battle for survival against the Basilisk.
But he couldn’t awaken if he turned to stone first, so timing was everything.
Aron activated his enhancement magic—concentrating Powerrest on his legs and layering Quickness twice, just as I’d instructed.
His speed surged, and he began to land blows more consistently.
“Uooooooh!!”
“GYAAAAAAAA!!!”
The Basilisk shrieked as a slash cut across its throat. Its twin eyes flashed, unleashing twin beams of light that turned nearby trees to stone in an instant.
Here it came—the second phase, just like the original.
Realizing direct gaze attacks wouldn’t work, the Basilisk switched to wide-area petrification via light.
…Time for the finishing move.
“Aron!! Step into the light!!”
“Wh-What!? But that’ll turn me to stone! You even taught me how to avoid that!”
“Trust me!!”
All the conditions were ready. I only needed one more thing—a trigger.
To awaken Divine Endowment, Aron needed to experience true fear and despair of death.
“GIIIIIIIIII!!!”
The Basilisk roared, unleashing its petrifying light.
After a brief hesitation, Aron clenched his teeth and leapt straight into the beam.
I pulled a vial of anti-petrification medicine from my coat and hurled a smoke bomb at the Basilisk’s face with my free hand.
“GYAA!?”
The creature reeled backward, blinded by the smoke. Good—time bought. Now I only had to wait for the signs of awakening, then cure the petrification.
“A—gh…!”
Aron’s body slowly stiffened. The gray stone texture crept up his skin, already reaching his chin.
“Gi…l…mas…”
He looked at me, eyes pleading. But there was still no glow—no awakening yet.
He still believed—that I would save him.
That faith, that reliance, was the very thing blocking his awakening.
Because he hadn’t yet fallen into true despair.
Looks like I’ll have to give him that final push myself.
I stepped close, leaning down to whisper into his ear.
“You did well. I didn’t think it would go this smoothly… Bash will be pleased. Everything went exactly as we planned.”
“Wha—!?”
“Farewell. Enjoy the afterlife.”
Aron froze—his face twisting in shock and betrayal.
And in that moment—
it appeared.
“It’s here.”
Light burst from Aron’s chest, flooding the surroundings.
The radiance surged outward like a wave, illuminating the entire forest.
The sky itself brightened—yes, this was it. The unmistakable sign of awakening.
“Gi…GIGIIIII!?”
The Basilisk, clearing its eyes of smoke, recoiled in fear before the glow.
I immediately splashed the anti-petrification medicine over Aron.
The stone encasing him crumbled away, restoring his body.
“Guildmaster… this…?”
Aron looked down at his hands in disbelief, feeling the new power coursing through him.
“The power that now dwells within you is the legendary skill Divine Endowment.
Your body can now surpass human limits, endlessly stacking physical enhancement magic without breaking down.”
There were two fundamental limits to enhancement magic—mana depletion and physical collapse.
Even if one had infinite mana, the body itself would crumble under excessive strain.
No amount of training could overcome that.
Normally, you could safely stack enhancement magic around three times before reaching that limit—unless you possessed an exceptional unique skill.
But now, Aron had transcended that boundary.
He had gained an innate immunity to physical collapse.
No matter how many times he layered enhancement magic, the skill would prevent his body from destroying itself.
Self-enhancement beyond mortal limits—superhuman strength incarnate.
That was the power of Divine Endowment.
For one who specialized in support magic like Aron, it was the ultimate, most fitting skill of all.
But I needed to clear up one thing—before he got the wrong idea and turned on me.
“The final key to awakening this power was the terror and despair of death. Aron… I’m sorry for deceiving you.”
I bowed my head, making sure my expression looked as sincere as possible.
“Guildmaster…”
In the original story, Aron reached this awakening after wandering the forest alone, cast out and broken.
He fought the Basilisk while half-turned to stone, awakening in the depths of despair.
To shortcut that process, I’d gained his trust first—and then shattered it.
A fabricated despair, but despair all the same.
“I understand. When I feel this power… I can tell why you did it.”
As Aron spoke, the Basilisk, regaining its senses, lunged toward us with a thunderous roar.
“GYAAAAAAAAAA!!!”
It crashed through the trees, charging straight at us.
I tossed Aron a mana recovery potion.
“Aron—show me your power.”
“Yes, sir!!”
Draining the potion in one gulp, Aron raised his sword and focused his gaze on the monster’s feet.
“Powerrest—times ten!!”
He poured all his restored mana into pure offense, strengthening himself to the utmost. Then—
“HAAAAAA!!!”
One swing.
“GY…!?”
The radiant slash cleaved through the Basilisk’s massive body.
It split cleanly down the middle, collapsing lifelessly without a single death cry.
The great beast fell, the earth trembling beneath it.
“Incredible…! I defeated that huge monster in a single strike…!”
“With this, your potential has been unleashed. Now then—let’s go deliver a little expulsion payback.”
I smirked at him.
Aron smiled back—his expression filled not just with joy, but with something deeper.
Trust, perhaps.
―――――――――――
Translator’s Note:
Jilkane’s deception mirrors a common trope in Japanese fantasy—forcing “despair-induced awakening.” The twist here is his cold calculation: he recreates the protagonist’s tragedy on purpose, proving he’s both shrewd and ruthless. Aron’s “Divine Endowment” (神宿し) literally means “the god’s dwelling,” symbolizing human will transcending its limits through suffering.
