Junian said she had to attend a meeting about the special trial transfer.
"They'll probably approve it. If not, you can take the day off and start tomorrow instead."
"It's okay," I replied.
Truthfully, I still wasn't at full strength, but it didn't feel serious enough to bring up.
"Then wait here for a bit," she said.
"Ah—wait." I stopped her just as she turned to leave. "Is Instructor Ainsburn still around?"
"The Law Master? Why do you ask?" Her tone was unexpectedly sharp.
Confused, I answered, "I learned something from my fight with Juan. He might be a church member or at least an informer."
"I see. I thought as much."
I was taken aback by how quickly she agreed.
"After you and Juan disappeared, he suddenly claimed illness and demanded to be discharged. I guess his conscience caught up with him," she explained.
" Oh , so he's already on the run?"
"He left the camp," Junian said with a twisted smile. "But he hasn't escaped the Badnikers. They detained him at the forest checkpoint."
I guess even instructors can't just leave mid-assignment."
"Correct."
As expected of the Badnikers. Their rules applied equally to both instructors and hero disciples.
"I will interrogate him."
The thought of an active inquisitor conducting the interrogation filled me with awe, and I nodded. "While you're at it, could you look into whether any more rats are hiding around?"
"The previous investigations didn't turn up anything. But I think we can get something out of Ainsburn if we handle him right. Fine. I'll take care of it." Junian waved her hand and walked off.
While waiting, I walked to the backyard of the hero disciples' building.
There, I drew the Seven Sins Sword, ran my hand along its blade, and whispered, "Martial God?"
—Speak.
I heard the Martial God's voice instantly as if he'd been waiting. His tone, perhaps influenced by his mood, sounded curt.
"Are you angry?"
The Martial God laughed before responding bluntly.
—Angry? Me? Why would I be? You're not some snot-nosed brat. Whether to take advice or not is up to you. By fifteen, one should be able to stand on their own.
Yeah, he's definitely mad.
—In the end, you returned to this world. That means your judgment was right. I was wrong. I nearly made a serious mistake. From now on, I won't say a word, no matter what kind of crisis you face. Rest easy.
He's angrier than I thought. Hard to believe a god could hold such a grudge.
Still, since it all stemmed from his concern for me, I couldn't bring myself to feel bad about it.
"I'm sorry." I started with an apology.
Before the Martial God could respond, I quickly added, "In fact, you don't know how much I regretted and feared falling into Hell alone. I should've listened to your advice, Martial God. I regretted it even more..."
The Martial God didn't speak.
"That's when I realized—ah, this is why you don't ignore the ancients' words. When adults speak, at least half of what they say is worth hearing."
He remained silent.
"From now on, I'll never take your advice lightly again. I mean it!"
—Really?
"Of course. I don't lie!"
The Martial God sighed deeply.
—That is a lie. You don't sound remorseful, but I can sense your genuine concern for me. So, I'll let it go.
"Thank you."
—But never again. Don't ever step into Hell again. Dark Qi is far too dangerous for any living being.
This topic came up just in time.
I spoke as if I had been waiting. "This is what I want to talk about. Are blessings the only way to resist Dark Qi and the power of a demon king?"
—What do you mean?
"I have only one blessing. It isn't even combat-oriented, so I can't train it. After being so deeply exposed to Dark Qi this time, I realized that it is a feeling that that kind of power isn't something you can handle with just mental or physical fortitude."
—Hmm...
The Martial God sounded like he agreed.
—It is as you said. You humans may classify them as good gods or gods of disaster, but they are all the same at their core. Until you reach a certain level, the only thing that can counter the power of a god is another god's power.
"Then, could you grant me a blessing...?"
—I'm sorry, but I don't have that much power now.
The Martial God's tone was bitter.
—But there is a way. You just have to sign a contract.
"A contract?"
—A god's blessing can only be given to those who carry the blood of heroes. But if it's the power of a divine beast, you can borrow it by signing a contract, with no special conditions other than that.
The Martial God's tone grew curious.
—Messenger, shouldn't you know this since you have the blood of a hero?
I knew about divine beasts but didn't realize I could borrow their power this way.
"What exactly is a divine beast?"
—A beast that has become a god. In their lifetime, they were known as spiritual beasts, fantasy beasts, or even monsters. Most of them were friendly to the seven races. As long as you earn their favor, their contract terms won't be too strict.
I hummed in response.
—Messenger, you carry the blood of the Black Fairy Kuset, don't you? If so, the power of the divine beast that supports your lineage must be considerable. You should speak to the person in charge when you get the chance.
The person in charge—did that mean the Iron-Blooded Lord?
I nodded. "I understand. Ah, then..."
—What else?
The Martial God didn't seem in any rush to vanish like before, so I took the opportunity to ask the questions I'd been holding back.
"I would like to ask you something about the White Sun Eclipse."
—Go on.
"I got an inspiration for the second half." I explained slowly the thoughts I'd developed on Spirit Mountain—the connection between the First Fire Technique and the White Sun Eclipse, the symbolism of flames, and the second half's focus on evasion and defense.
The Martial God listened until the end, then nodded.
—That's a good approach. There's no rule that every move has to be offensive. The first half alone should already carry more than enough destructive power.
"Right?"
—You are flexible in your thinking. Well done.
Unexpectedly, my emotions started to fluctuate when I heard the words Well done .
The Martial God didn't seem to notice and continued.
—In that case, the most important element will be the flow of the movements.
"Flow?"
—To unify the different techniques into a single martial art, the transitions between them must be seamless. For instance, even if you reorder the forms—say, from first to last or in reverse—it should still feel natural.
"Ah." So essentially, after using Fire Wheel, I could follow with Falling Fire. Then, from Falling Fire, I could move into Scorching. It didn't have to follow a strict sequence from beginning to end. I should be able to use the moves fluidly, even in reverse.
"I see. Then I will be able to bind all my moves together."
It wasn't a groundbreaking realization, but I felt a newfound appreciation for martial studies.
"Please teach me more about the mysteries of the Galaxy Sword."
—Hm?
I immediately drew the Seven Sins Sword and showcased the Galaxy Sword.
—Interesting.
This was the first time the Martial God was seeing my Galaxy Sword. After a moment of quiet appreciation, he had a question for me.
—Have you been practicing the Galaxy Sword while I was unconscious?
"Huh?"
—I'm surprised that you have already reached the Dubhe Stage.
"Ah... yeah, I guess it just sort of happened."
—I see.
There was a note of satisfaction in his voice.
—Reaching the Merak Stage is easy. You only need to compress the sword trajectory you just demonstrated.
I tilted my head, confused by the unfamiliar concept. "Compress...?"
—Messenger, don't you carry the black fairy's blood?
"Yes, that's right."
—Then, with both human and black fairy blood flowing through you, reaching the Merak Stage won't be difficult. However, from the third stage onward, progress will be harder to achieve through training alone.
"What do you mean...?"
—The Galaxy Sword's secret lies within the Seven Sins Sword. To unlock its full power, the principles of the seven races are essential.
Was that why the Seven Sins Sword had reacted to Mir last time?
—Hmm... It is still a bit early for you to worry about that.
"No, I found it fascinating."
—Is that so? If you have any other questions, feel free to ask.
I had only just displayed the Galaxy Sword, yet somehow, the Martial God's demeanor had softened.
Seizing the moment, I demonstrated Thunder Stomp Footwork and Scorching Dash.
"These are techniques I recently created," I explained. "Somehow, the transition between them felt natural, even though they aren't really connected, aside from both being martial arts."
The Martial God hummed in response.
"Still, it feels off to treat them as one style. But if I combine or perform them in sequence, the effect seems stronger. What do you think, Martial God?"
—Was the technique you showed earlier inspired by thunder or lightning?
"Yes. I named it Thunder Stomp Footwork," I answered, slightly surprised.
As expected of the Martial God. His insight is uncanny.
—The name is tacky.
I chose not to respond.
—Still, if its origin is lightning, it makes sense the movements flow together. Fire and lightning share similar properties. They blend well.
"Exactly. I've always viewed fire as a concept broad enough to encompass even lightning."
—That is an intriguing interpretation. The foundation of martial studies begins with observation. The ancient ancestors were inspired by nature, and from that, they created countless techniques. But two people observing the same thing may interpret it differently, leading to distinct martial arts.
The Martial God spoke in a rare joyful voice.
"Could you elaborate?"
—For example, when two masters look at the sea, one might be struck by its vastness, while the other might be in awe of its unfathomable depth. Therefore, the laws of nature are open to human interpretation. Sometimes, a deeper observation reveals that the essence of a thing is entirely different from what we assumed.
His words carved themselves into my mind.
—The principles of martial arts are already engraved in your heart, in your own unique way.
"So that's how it is," I murmured, lost in thought.
A realization suddenly struck me. The Martial God's personality was the opposite of Bai Luguang's. If I hadn't encountered my master, I would have gladly accepted the Martial God as my master.
—Now that you understand how to walk and run, you should focus on researching how to move your body more efficiently for balance.
"I understand." I nodded, suddenly grasping that the Martial God was referring to the light body technique my master had once mentioned in passing.
"Luan?" Junian's voice cut through the quiet. "Why are you hiding in the backyard? I've been looking for you."
"Sometimes, it's places like this that help me find my calm," I replied while sheathing the Seven Sins Sword.
"As expected, you really are cut out to be an inquisitor—"
"What was the meeting's outcome?" I interrupted her.
"It went well, of course," she said, pointing toward the forest. "You can head in now, or wait until the Swordmaster gets back if you'd rather speak with him directly."
"I'll go now."
"Want to see what's available for purchase?" Junian held out a piece of paper. "It's nearly identical to the list we handed out for the second trial."
I glanced over it quickly before handing it back. "Nothing particularly useful here."
"Are you sure you looked carefully?" she asked.
"Of course."
" Hmm... Well, fine. Just don't regret it."
I turned my gaze toward the forest. Now, let's get down to business.
***
"C-Charon has a purple orb...!"
Hector cast a cold glance at the one who had spoken.
In some ways, Hans Vander been the busiest hero disciple during this training camp, snooping around like a bat. He had always looked older than his age, but over the past five weeks, it felt as though he'd aged six more years.
"You are spouting nonsense." Beside him, Eddie burst into laughter. "You've been buzzing around Charon like a mosquito. Do you think we'll just believe you now just because you suddenly kneel? Right, Sir Hector?"
Eddie turned to Hector.
"There's nothing to listen to," Hector spat. "Killing's against the rules, so we'll just break a limb or two and send you packing."
"I swear it's true, Sir Hector! Please believe me..." Hans begged, his head lowered.
Hector's voice was steady as he spoke. "Let me make one thing clear. Let me make one thing clear. Whatever happens at this training camp, I will hold no grudges once it's over. In the first place, the system here encourages competition, so I've decided that what happens here stays here."
"Y-yes..."
"But this is different, Hans Vander," Hector continued, his tone hardening. "If you're lying, I can promise that your family won't be able to thrive. I swear on my other name."
His other name...? Hans paused, and then his face drained of color. T-the Anatos family...!
Hector's maternal relatives weren't as powerful as the Badnikers, but they were still formidable. More importantly, their estate was close to the Vander family's.
Hans, once one of Hector's closest confidants, knew the truth. Unlike the Badnikers, the Anatos family followed Hector's will without question. Their current head, Zenon Anatos, was Hector's maternal grandfather, and he would do anything for his grandson. If Hector spoke, the target would suffer a brutal end.
Hector withdrew his gaze from the gulping Hans and murmured, "Do you understand? I must win first place in this training camp."
A heavy silence followed.
"Because that is a promise I made to someone who is no longer here."