Chapter 483: Proof of Existence (71)
Chapter 483: Proof of Existence (71)
“No, no… my apologies. Now that you have glimpsed the ‘Truth,’ you must have realized that a world exists which cannot be expressed through mere words. If that is the case, there is only one way for us to communicate!”
Boom! The iron rod the man hurled dug into the earth, sending a pillar of dust soaring dozens of meters into the air.
The ground cracked with a sharp creak, and a faint shadow of terror flickered in the eyes of the crowd. If they weren't careful, the Mountain Court, with its long and storied history, might vanish entirely.
If the Saint set his mind to it—no, if he simply let his focus slip for a moment—that outcome was entirely possible.
“Flesh! Yes… let us speak with our flesh! Welcome to the world of Mental Imagery!”
The Saint’s face looked utterly unburdened, as if his weapon had been nothing more than a restraint. The boyish face was bright, brimming with anticipation. He looked like a child waiting for a fun game to begin.
The more he smiled, the more I had to steel myself. This was a battle where not even a single moment of carelessness would be permitted.
As I corrected my stance, the Saintess, who had been collapsed and weeping, cried out in shock.
“Ian, what on earth are you trying to do…! Your body is already covered in wounds…!”
“Is this also the Will of God?”
It was a question I had uttered once before.
Not just me, but everyone must have felt it. ‘Greed,’ Yuren, and even Guildford, whom we had faced in the past, must have harbored such doubts.
Where is the Heavenly God?
Why does He not save us?
In truth, I didn't ask the question expecting the Saintess to answer. It was simply because a voice remained faintly etched in my memory.
“If so, then I must offer my obedience.”
Before she could offer a rebuttal, I took a step forward. The Saint stared at me, a fierce smile spreading across his face. It was a gesture that he would once again grant me the first move.
I had no reason to refuse. The moment I exhaled and drew a sharp breath—
Once again, a wave of silver swept across the world.
One by one, all things began to still, and countless points of starlight rose into the empty voids of the air.
I grit my teeth and took another step.
Deletion.
The process was lost along with the space.
Before I knew it, I had reached the Saint. His face, motionless, still bore that smile drenched in ecstasy.
This was already the second time.
The duration I could maintain this frozen world was but a fleeting instant. Even this was only possible because I was in the immediate wake of my Awakening. As the memory of seeing the ‘Truth’ faded, the time I could remain in this world would shorten as well.
It didn't matter.
I only needed to see the end right now. If I could save the Saintess, I would do anything.
Silver flames surged along the edge of my blade. My previous slash had been delivered in a daze, leaving only a shallow wound, but I wasn't foolish enough to repeat the same mistake.
I had to go deep.
Deep enough to damage his internal organs at the very least. Otherwise, it would be impossible to bring this monster down.
With everything I had. No, it had to be more than that.
The sound of my teeth grinding and shattering echoed in my ears. A strike delivered with every ounce of my being left a silver laceration within the monochrome world.
And then, it happened.
A strange crack rang out, and my body froze.
It was an instinctual intuition. My gaze hurriedly chased the source of the sound.
The light had returned.
The Saint’s sky-blue eyes had regained their color all on their own and were tracking the path of my sword. Faint fissures were spreading through the frozen world.
My mind went blank for a moment.
How?
My Mental Imagery wasn't an ability that could be explained by mere acceleration. There should be no being in this world capable of moving within a state of completely stopped time.
Yes, that should certainly be the case, and yet—
The Saint’s smile was growing disturbingly deep.
His parting lips delivered a slow vibration of sound.
‘Got you.’
And then, time flowed once more.
The Saint’s arm tore through spacetime, seizing my arm as I lunged with my sword. My exhausted body couldn't withstand the gravitational force that yanked me in. In the blink of an eye, I found myself hoisted onto the Saint’s back.
It was a familiar sequence of movements.
Sensing the impending impact, my body thrashed in a final act of desperation. However, the physical strength of the Saint, now unburdened by his weapon, far exceeded my imagination. A fleeting glimpse of those sky-blue eyes was the last thing I saw.
Suddenly, the world inverted.
Holy Kingdom Secret Art: Moon Reversal.
Like a lake struck by a meteor, the ground surged and exploded.
*
Once again, a handful of blood sprayed through the air in a wet mess.
It was a death so brutal it hardly retained a human shape. It didn't take long for the Saintess’s mind, which had barely regained its composure, to shatter completely.
“Ah, ahh… Aaaaaaaah! St-stop! No, no, please… Ian! Don’t do this!”
It was a truly overwhelming spectacle.
Literally, the world had turned upside down.
This wasn't just about Ian being slammed down. Though it lasted only an instant, everyone standing there witnessed it.
The world itself had flipped.
The Saint hadn't simply thrown Ian into the ground. Rather, he had slammed him into the sky.
It was merely a human body. There was no way it could withstand the weight of an entire planet.
Blood vessels throughout his body burst, and bones and muscles were mashed into a wet paste. A mixture of blood and cerebral fluid even sprayed from his nose and mouth.
It was a wretched sight.
Among all the deaths witnessed so far, this was undeniably the most horrific. It wouldn't have been strange for the Saintess to scream while covering her eyes.
Though Ian had reached the level of High Expert, a Master was a being of an entirely different caliber.
The outcome was clear. After only two exchanges, the Saint had once again seized complete victory.
At least, that was how it appeared on the surface.
However, the Saint, who had just crushed Ian, wore a dazed expression. And just after a crater dozens of meters deep formed in the ground, a delayed laceration appeared on his shoulder.
Spurt! Blood erupted.
The Saint’s eyes slowly drifted toward the sky. There, a hand axe, launched along a silver trajectory, was spinning through the air.
A stunned murmur escaped the boy’s lips.
“He should certainly be dead….”
Ian’s body, struck directly by Moon Reversal, had been crushed before it even had a chance to break apart. Normally, there should have been no room for him to throw a hand axe.
And yet, he had thrown it.
It left a second wound on the Saint’s body. Since reaching the level of Master, the times he had received a wound this deep could be counted on one hand.
Perhaps only that brat who was crazy for the sword had managed to inflict a serious injury.
But there was one more thing left to surprise the Saint.
Heave, heave.
From the center of the explosion that had left such a massive aftermath, the sound of panting could be heard. A sky-blue gaze, filled with doubt, turned toward the source.
A man, battered and broken, was pushing himself up.
The Saint hadn't intended to kill him. He had faithfully restored the body before the soul could depart. But even so, Ian shouldn't have been able to stand up immediately after the aftermath of such a battle.
That man was directly violating the laws of physics.
Much like a Saint who flips life and death.
After several seconds of silence, a faint smile formed on the Saint’s lips.
“……I see.”
A chuckle scraped through the Saint’s throat. He looked as though he were enjoying himself beyond measure.
“So that was your Mental Imagery, brother! An indomitable will that refuses to break, even in death! To think it can twist even the reality where you ought to be dead and unable to move!”
With that exclamation, the atmosphere shifted abruptly.
Thump, crack, snap.
The Saint’s body began to swell rapidly. The robes covering his upper body couldn't contain his growing frame and tore away. Powerful muscles forcibly straightened the Saint’s spine.
The body, expanded to its limit, was unrealistically muscular. Only after every muscle in his body had bulged to the point where no further growth was possible did the Saint’s transformation conclude.
He stood well over two meters tall.
The feast of muscle filling that vast frame was like a sculpture carved by God Himself for the purpose of war. His entire body was a weapon—a physique perfectly suited for the ultimate peak of martial artists who train their flesh without limit.
Along with his size, the Saint’s voice became even more thunderous. The booming sound was enough to make the faint-hearted cover their ears.
“However, a single Mental Imagery should only be able to contain a single miracle! I am quite curious how you were able to stop time… but very well! A man like you is worthy of receiving the full sincerity of this humble servant!”
With his sky-blue eyes burning with light, the Saint drew a deep breath. The stance he took vibrated through the world, radiating a majestic pressure.
Vroom, vroom, vroom!
Light, heat, wind, and all manner of forces were being sucked in, swirling into a vortex.
The omen alone was extraordinary.
Ian tried to move his trembling body somehow, but a surge of coughed-up blood came first. His blurred eyes turned toward the Saint.
“You may take pride in this… Aside from that brat of the Empire who was crazy for the sword decades ago, you are the only one to ever face this final strike!”
At those burning words, a commotion began to rise once more.
It was a chaos of a scale incomparable to anything before. For there was no one present who did not know of the ‘incident from decades ago’ that the Saint spoke of.