He continued, his eyes briefly brightening with focus as he shifted into explanation.
"From the histories I grew up hearing… there were four friends who faced the greatest threat of the Taiyoki era."
He paused only slightly before continuing.
"Threats that were servants of an all-powerful being… called Ponēros… or so the stories say."
His tone remained steady, neither theatrical nor uncertain, as though recounting something long settled in his mind.
"These servants carried out the will of Ponēros."
"They were said to possess powers beyond mortal comprehension… abilities capable of shaking entire realms."
He let the implication settle before adding more plainly, almost as a grounding point.
"On their own level… they were gods."
His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke, voice measured and precise. It was clear he intended this not as storytelling, but as a structured example for Jurgen's understanding.
"Now you must be wondering… how such monsters could ever be defeated."
"That is where the Four Pillars come in."
He continued without breaking rhythm.
"Also known as the Four Necessities of Mother Nature."
Jurgen listened in silence, his gaze fixed firmly on Nemesio, not interrupting.
"They were not chosen because they were the strongest…"
"…but because they were the only ones who chose to stand."
A brief pause followed.
"They had the will to act…"
"…but not the power. So nature answered them. Each was blessed with an element."
"Wind."
"Earth."
"Fire."
"Water."
"They could not necessarily defeat the servants… but they could at least resist them. They pushed them to their limits, wounded them, forced them into retreat."
A brief pause followed, carrying a heavier weight than the words before it.
"But defeating the servants… cost them their lives."
Silence lingered for a moment.
"After the first bearers died, their will and power did not vanish. It was passed on to new lives. Reborn… as the next generation of bearers. That is when everything changed."
"They were separated at birth. Each one taken to a different region, ensuring they would never know one another. Never meet."
"Never bond… as the first bearers once did."
His gaze darkened slightly.
"Since the emergence of the second generation during the Taiyoki Era… this system has never changed."
"That is why the Pillars stand alone. Not as allies… but as distant forces."
He raised a finger slightly, emphasizing the next point.
"It was said that a single Pillar is capable of wiping out an entire region if they fully awaken the power of the first bearers."
He spoke softly but firmly, ensuring Jurgen understood the implication — that what was now seen was only a fraction of what once existed.
Jurgen remained attentive, though it was clear the scale still did not fully settle in his mind.
"To put it simply… imagine cutting an orange into four pieces. The four regions are the world divided into four. Meaning…"
Realization finally formed in Jurgen's expression.
"A single Pillar can destroy one-quarter of the entire world if fully awakened."
Jurgen completed it. He leaned back slightly, blinking a few times as he processed it. The idea was so vast it bordered on unreal — something difficult to reconcile with what he had just seen and heard.
"That's why they're not allowed to stay together," Nemesio continued. "No one knows what might happen. Being together could trigger something, memories, resonance — something that might unlock their full potential. And no one has ever wanted to find out."
A brief pause followed as Nemesio turned his head slightly toward the direction leading out of the Swan Spring before facing forward again.
"Because if they ever came together… if they ever stood side by side again…"
A faint exhale left him.
"…they wouldn't just threaten the world. They could erase it. At least… that's how I heard it."
Without further elaboration, Nemesio stepped out of the pool.
"We've been talking all day. It's almost evening."
Jurgen followed, wiping his face and hair with a towel.
"Damn…" he muttered quietly. "…that old man is really that powerful?"
"Even during the fight against the servants, they severely fractured the world and threatened entire realms," Nemesio continued, his tone steady as he added context to the history.
"It ultimately forced Ponēros to shift the battle into another dimension."
Nemesio added before pausing briefly, as if acknowledging the uncertainty behind that final detail.
"Whether that was out of some regard for the world… or for reasons unknown, no one can say for certain."
He lingered for a moment, still processing the sheer scale of what he had been told. Given how large the world felt to him, the idea was difficult to fully internalize.
A low laugh escaped Nemesio.
"He was quite honored when the tournament was named after him."
"The prime ministers were sitting together one morning, making jokes about it…"
"…and somehow, it stuck."
"The Truemann Trials."
Nemesio casually slipped into his black robe. His movements were unbothered, comfortable, and unguarded in a way that suggested familiarity rather than caution.
Jurgen ran a towel over his face and through his hair, drying himself in steady, unhurried motions before slipping into his clothes.
His physique was striking, though not in an exaggerated way. His abdomen was well-defined, each line clearly set, while his arms carried a more restrained build —muscular, but leaner and less pronounced than that of someone who focused solely on bulk. The balance gave him a controlled, functional appearance rather than one built for display.
"It's crazy… just thinking about it, honestly."
Jurgen gestured loosely as he spoke, the motion uncertain, before running a hand through his hair. The reaction felt genuine; the scale of what he had just heard still hadn't fully settled into something concrete.
He paused briefly, his attention catching on something about Nemesio, subtle, but noticeable enough to draw his focus for a moment. Whatever it was, he did not pursue it. He let it pass, deciding it wasn't worth questioning, and moved on without comment.
"Yeah, don't think too much, kid. Let's go."
Nemesio spoke lightly as he turned, already moving toward the exit.
Jurgen followed, still processing fragments of the conversation as they stepped out of the Swan Spring. They had not fully cleared the doorway before something at the edge of his vision caught his attention.
He slowed, just slightly.
The sensation was familiar. Subtle, but distinct. He had felt it earlier on their way here — an indistinct presence that never fully revealed itself.
His gaze shifted toward the corner.
And in the same instant, it moved.
A masked figure lunged forward without warning, closing the distance in a single, decisive motion. Steel flashed briefly, a dagger, precise and direct, aimed cleanly for his neck.
Jurgen was caught off guard.
There was no time to think. No time to react.
Only the sudden realization,
and the blade already there.