At a single word, the crowd dispersed like the tide retreating.
Even the holy knights who had been groaning on the ground tried their best to help each other up and evacuate the area. In just a few seconds, the chaotic battlefield cleared up, and before long, I was the only one left standing in the empty space.
The rest of the onlookers had long since fled to a safe distance.
Only then did I let out a sigh of relief and wipe the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.
The implication of this sequence of actions was singular.
Is it finally coming?
Right after that…
With a sound of “boom,” an intangible pressure crushed my whole body. It was to the extent that I unconsciously knelt down and groaned, “Guh.”
It felt as though gravity had intensified several times.
I needed to get up, but I couldn’t even move a single finger. My eyes, which had clenched their teeth, reddened involuntarily.
Could this also be one of the opponent’s abilities?
While making such premature assumptions, at the moment I managed to somehow lift my head…
My gaze momentarily turned vacant.
Jebek, jebek.
A boy with sky-blue eyes was walking towards me with the sunlight at his back. From that distant peak, he was stepping on thin air.
It was an absurd sight.
I had heard rumors that one of the ancient saints once walked on water. This was a level achievable by martial artists who had reached the pinnacle through precise manipulation of magical energy.
But stepping on the void?
More than that, the expression on the saint’s face was as peaceful as if he was simply out for a stroll.
It was as if there was a glass staircase installed solely for the boy standing there. The ease with which he took each step exuded the unique grace and composure of a true master.
And as the boy stepped down one stair at a time, the pressure on my body grew stronger and stronger.
Boom, boom, boom.
Only then did I realize.
The saint hadn’t intended this pain. Even though I felt like vomiting everything inside me, it wasn’t the saint’s intention.
His mere presence was just too overwhelming.
It was akin to how there are white foams left where a whale had passed.
With each step, the world seemed to adjust itself to the rhythm of his footfalls. Before long, his sky-blue eyes, which once seemed so impenetrable, were now gazing in my direction.
“Hmm, interesting… I heard you’re the rising star of the Empire and wondered if you could be the old man’s disciple in his twilight years…”
Just after the saint trailed off like that, the gravity that had pinned me down vanished entirely.
I might have looked pitiful, lying flat on the ground like that.
Regardless, I had finally reclaimed my freedom. There was no reason to miss this opportunity.
My body, hastily rising, performed rapid up-and-down motions as I tried to catch my breath. While I regained my composure, the saint stepped into the open space where I stood.
“Could it be that you are Her disciple?”
One step, two steps.
The two feet of the saint quietly touched down. At that moment, I finally got a good look at his appearance.
A youth with silver hair and blue eyes. His thin jawline and soft skin added to a somewhat androgynous charm.
He looked like a boy who hadn’t yet hit puberty.
At a glance, his apparent age seemed no older than mid-to-late teens.
But I couldn’t let my guard down.
The opponent was an old monster who had guarded the Holy Kingdom for hundreds of years. Let alone the acknowledged strongest of the Empire, the Swordmaster, who couldn’t even claim superiority over him.
In every sense, he was a worthy opponent deserving of respect.
I bowed with the utmost reverence, despite the stiffness in my body. My head bent deeply as I offered a respectful greeting.
“Salutations to the mentor of all brawlers, the Holy Saint.”
“An embarrassing title. Life involves sometimes being a mentor and other times a disciple.”
The saint raised his hand slightly without saying a word.
At the gesture, the scattered weapons nearby began to vibrate. They were items left by the holy knights I had defeated, but one particular weapon caught the saint’s attention.
A mace.
It was a blunt weapon with a thick, dull end. It didn’t look like something a brawler would use, and my gaze momentarily turned vacant.
“Brother, I would like to hear your resolve. What is your intention for standing there? And what are you defending by standing where you are?”
“To not run away.”
Biting my teeth, I pointed my sword towards the saint.
Every sense in my body tensed automatically. My instincts screamed—this opponent would allow no room for hesitation.
There was nothing left to rely on but the art of ‘release’.
Even if I can’t completely deflect the saint’s attack, it will at least help me endure a few strikes.
With my parched lips moistened by saliva, I spoke.
“…That’s all.”
The saint let out a faint chuckle and lowered his head.
“It seems you wish to walk a difficult path.”
“Then what if you make an exception for a distant junior?”
“Impossible.”
Lowering the hand that held the mace slowly, the saint smiled benevolently.
“If summoned by the law, must I not fulfill my duty? Besides, there’s also some flavor in occasionally responding to a junior’s challenge.”
It was the answer I had expected. Since I hadn’t even dared to hope for it, I stilled my breath and lowered my stance.
That’s how weaker ones should approach the strong.
A posture solely meant for endurance—surely the saint had caught the intent.
The saint’s smiling face turned upwards towards the sky.
The sun still hung at its zenith.
“…Then.”
It was a short signal.
The saint adjusted his stance at an almost leisurely pace.
Raising the mace high, he crouched, bending his knees.
And then, in the next instant.
The sky-blue eyes locked forward, and a fierce smile formed at the corner of the boy’s lips.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Crack, and like the world itself fractured around one being.
It’s coming.
I concentrated all my energy into my sword under the jarring intuition that ran through my spine. The silvery aura swirled and began spreading like mist.
In the next moment, lightning raced forward.
It was a speed comparable to light itself. The trail it left behind shimmered like a mirage, trailing off into streaks. However, thanks to the saint’s earlier hint, my posture was already complete.
All I had to do was disperse the aura.
As I thought that, the instant my gaze met the mace the saint held…
Time stopped.
The heavy mace of iron radiated no light at all. Not only visually, but employing all senses, I couldn’t detect a fragment of aura.
What in the world…
My gaze drifted aimlessly in this frozen moment until it suddenly caught the faint outline of those pale blue eyes.
The space shuddered violently as reality screamed.
The still world of ‘stop’ was being torn apart. The boy’s arm, violating all flow and laws, began its acceleration.
Most importantly, those sky-blue eyes.
In those eyes, an unmistakable thrill was visible.
And for a moment, I thought I heard a faint greeting by my ear.
“…Emmanuel!”
With a crack, my skull shattered.
My body tilted precariously. Or was it tilting?
That was my final sensation.
Then darkness.
*
I gasped for breath, drawing in air sharply as my eyes opened.
My hands shook. My body was already sprawled on the ground, and my mind incessantly replayed the previous moments.
My skull had split.
I should have died. So why am I still drawing breath?
Was it all an illusion?
It took only a few seconds for that hypothesis to crumble.
My eyes weakly scanned the surroundings. The area within a radius of several dozen meters was caved in and devastated.
A frightening landscape, as if a meteor had struck.
And most importantly, the traces of blood and water cascading around me left harsh impressions on my retina.
I was already dead.
Not my body, but my instincts were shouting. You’ve already died once and come back.
This wasn’t even comparable to a near-death experience. The overwhelming fear surged through my body like a tidal wave.
My shaking limbs wouldn’t even obey commands.
Jebek, jebek.
Through the swirling cloud of dust, someone was walking toward me.
“…What was the afterlife like?”
My fear-stricken gaze slowly moved upward.
The blue eyes of the boy gleamed even through the thick mist. It was clear and transparent, impossible to avoid.
‘The Saint.’
In his hand was the mace. The broken counterweight, shattered by the impact, seemed hollow.
The boy lightly tapped it against his palm.
“I understand your resolve well. Also, it’s not possible to take the life of a youthful knight who will lead the future here.”
While groaning…
I tried my best to rise. My muscles, convulsing on their own, continuously begged.
Run. Right now.
“So don’t worry.”
The sound of the mace tapping against the palm echoed.
“You won’t die. No, you will die, but only to come back to life.”
Wobbling, my body fell back down.
The eyes of the saint met mine in mid-air.
The saint’s expression was extremely tranquil. It seemed as if the frenzy from just a moment ago had never existed.
“…As long as I don’t permit your death.”
Only then did I recall the saint’s nickname.
‘The First Disciple of the Heavenly Deity.’
‘The Mentor of All Brawlers.’
And also, ‘The Arbiter of Life and Death’ and ‘The Gatekeeper of the Heavenly Kingdom.’
He was a monster who could even manipulate life and death.
