"Mhm… yeah, that's the one."
Nemesio's expression flattened into something almost comically unamused, as though the effort it had taken to arrive at such a simple conclusion had quietly drained whatever enthusiasm remained.
"Anyway, he's known as the strongest man in the entire Northern region… an absolute monster."
Jurgen's brows lifted at that, the reaction immediate, almost instinctive. "What… I thought you were the strongest?"
A faint pause followed, just long enough for Nemesio to glance at him with mild incredulity, the corner of his mouth lifting in restrained amusement. "Yeah… well, he's stronger. I did mention that a moment ago."
There was no defensiveness in it, only a calm acceptance, laced with something that resembled pride rather than resentment.
"He's one of the Four Pillars that stabilize and balance the world's power system."
Jurgen blinked, the statement settling more heavily than expected. "Four pillars… huh?" His gaze drifted briefly, hand rising to his jaw as he turned the idea over. "And he just… casually sits among everyone else? I mean…"
"You mean he's too powerful to be among us." Nemesio's smirk returned, subtle but knowing. "Exactly. You already look at him like a god, but he doesn't. He has a purpose for which he wields that power."
Something shifted in his expression then, the amusement giving way to a quieter intensity, his eyes catching the faint light reflecting off the water's surface.
"From the histories I grew up hearing, there were four friends who once stood against the greatest threat of the Senjin era… beings who served an entity far beyond ordinary comprehension. They called it Anuki… or so the stories claim."
The name lingered faintly in the air, carried by the steady rhythm of his voice.
"These servants exist to carry out its will. They were blessed with power that eclipses anything we would consider human… force capable of shaking entire realms, bending reality itself to purpose."
His gaze narrowed slightly, not in tension, but in focus, as though recalling something far older than himself.
"On their own level… they were gods."
The water remained still around him, untouched, as if even it listened.
"And naturally, the question follows, how does one oppose something like that?"
A faint breath passed through him before he continued, voice steady, precise.
"That is where the Four Pillars come in."
A quiet weight settled into the words.
"They are known as the Four Necessities of Mother Nature."
Jurgen said nothing this time. His gaze remained fixed on Nemesio, the earlier skepticism giving way to something more attentive, as though he had begun to realize that this was no longer idle conversation, but the unveiling of something far more significant.
"They were not chosen because they were the strongest… but because they were the only ones who chose to stand."
Nemesio's voice settled into something quieter, stripped of its earlier levity, as though the weight of the story demanded a steadier tone.
"They had the will to act… but not the power."
A faint pause followed, the surface of the spring remaining undisturbed, as if even the water refused to interrupt.
"So nature answered them."
His gaze remained forward, distant now, as though tracing the remnants of a history he had never witnessed yet somehow understood.
"Each was blessed with an element—wind, earth, fire, water. Not enough to guarantee victory… but enough to resist. Enough to push back."
His words flowed without strain, threading into one another with quiet continuity.
"They could not necessarily defeat the servants… but they could fight them. They drove them to their limits, wounded them, forced them into retreat… and in doing so, paid the price for it."
The weight of that cost lingered unspoken for a moment before he continued.
"Defeating the servants… cost them their lives."
Silence settled briefly, heavier now.
"And yet, that was not the end. When the first bearers died, their will, along with their power—did not vanish. It endured. Passed on. Reborn into new lives, carried forward as the next generation of bearers."
A slow breath escaped him.
"That is when everything changed."
There was a subtle shift in his expression, something darker, more critical.
"They were separated at birth. Each one taken to a different region, deliberately kept apart… ensuring they would never know one another, never meet, never form the same bond the first bearers once shared."
The implication settled heavily between them.
"Since the emergence of the second generation during the Senjin Era, this system has never changed. The Pillars stand alone, not as allies, but as distant forces, existing parallel to one another yet never intersecting."
Another brief pause followed, his tone lowering slightly as the thought reached its conclusion.
"Because if they ever came together, if they ever stood side by side again…"
A faint exhale slipped from him.
"…they wouldn't merely threaten the world. They could erase it entirely, should they ever choose to."
The gravity of it lingered for a moment longer before it was gently dismissed.
"Well… at least that's how I heard it from my old man."
With that, Nemesio rose from the pool, water slipping from his form in quiet streams as the warmth he had been resting in gave way to the cool air beyond.
"We've been talking all day. It's almost evening."
Nemesio's voice carried lightly as he stepped away from the spring, the fading warmth giving way to the cooler air of dusk. Behind him, Jurgen emerged soon after, dragging a towel across his face and through his damp hair, the lingering heat still clinging to his skin.
"Damn… that old man is really that powerful?"
The question slipped out as he slowed for a moment, his thoughts catching up with him, trying to reconcile the image in his head with what he had just heard.
A low laugh escaped Nemesio, easy and unbothered, as though the disbelief was both expected and amusing.
"He was so honored when the tournament was named after him… though, truthfully, it wasn't nearly as formal as it sounds. The prime ministers were gathered one morning, idling away time, making jokes of it… and somehow, the name stuck."
There was a faint trace of amusement in his expression as he glanced ahead.
"The Truemann Trials."
By then, he had already slipped into a deep blue garment, its design simple yet refined, thin silver lines tracing cleanly along its edges, catching what little light remained of the day.
They continued forward, their pace steady, the path opening up as the silhouette of something far larger began to take shape in the distance. The structure rose gradually into view, a vast expanse of steel and stone, its scale imposing even from afar, until at last, a massive metal gate stood before them, towering and unyielding.
Beyond it, movement thrived.