Chapter 66

Countless civilizations have risen and fallen in the cycle of time.

The way they used magical power was different each time, but the methods born in one era were never passed down to the next. Even if they were, they were inevitably lost as the cycle repeated.

Every time a new era began, talents sprang up like a fountain, and brilliant geniuses gathered to create the spirit of their age.

Only one inheritor carried on through all those eras, and that is the most powerful source that made the great scholar Gelié into the Primal Demon King.

*Slap!*

A bloodline streaks across her cheek as if cut by something, and blood gushes out. But she has no strength or will to feel the pain. Yurinel, leaning on the Sacred Sword, takes a step forward toward it.

“Ugh…!”

*Clang!*

Yurinel and the Sacred Sword scream in unison. Why didn’t she charge in and slash the Demon King in one go?

The moment she took a step toward Grimudo, an overwhelming pressure pushed her back. It felt like being crushed under the weight of the ocean in the depths of the sea. The magical power transformed into pure pressure, exerting a force beyond imagination.

Walking alone in a typhoon might feel like this. Looking around, there’s nothing to rely on, and the slightest mistake could send her flying over the mountains. Forget fighting—even approaching him was a series of impossible challenges.

‘What… what kind of technique is this?’

She clenches her teeth and moves only her feet forward. Lowering her stance as much as possible to reduce the pressure, she takes one step at a time. This is a technique called “foot energy,” a method of using magical power to strike the opponent. It was a popular way of using magical power in an era long before this one.

When concentrated in the palm, it becomes a palm strike; in the fist, a punch. When infused into a sword, it becomes sword pressure, emitting a sharp force that cuts through everything it touches.

Even with her entire body wrapped in Power Techniques to resist, it was difficult to overcome Grimudo’s palm strike. Not only her flesh and blood, but even the Sacred Sword, a pure embodiment of divine power, let out a cracking sound. The pressure, as if an entire mountain were pressing down on her, was truly agonizing.

“Power Techniques are an excellent idea. But did you think there was no technique comparable to it before?”

The Demon King retracted his outstretched palm and this time aimed a sword strike at her.

The sharp sword pressure struck Yurinel with a sound that seemed to tear her eardrums. She swung the Sacred Sword to cut through the sharpness, but blood flowed from her ears, and her sleeves were soaked with blood. Her arms ached and burned. It felt as if her tendons had been cut, and she couldn’t muster the strength to grip the sword.

“The possibilities of magical power are endless. So are the things you can do with it. If all you’re doing with it is creating Power Techniques, then it’s no wonder you’re being pushed back by me.”

Using the Sacred Sword’s divine power to reconnect her tendons, she somehow managed to get close to the Demon King. But the moment she thought she had, he stomped his foot.

Her head went numb, and blood spurted from her mouth.

It felt as if a mace as heavy as a mountain had slammed into her, sending her flying. Without a chance or method to resist, Yurinel crashed into the ground far away. Smoke rose from the Sacred Sword. Only then did she realize what had hit her.

That shockwave earlier, the one that erased Parnell’s magic from the ground. This shockwave is another method of using magical power, different from both foot energy and Power Techniques.

It’s also a technique from a previous era, lost in the cycle of time. While not as versatile as Power Techniques, its destructive power is unparalleled.

So, Grimudo may seem alone, but he’s not. The civilizations of past eras stand behind him, lending their strength to the Demon King.

How many talented individuals have been born and died? How many achievements have they created and discovered?

If one were to steadily accumulate that power and train for countless years, how much strength could one possess? Grimudo is the answer to that. He wasn’t strong from the beginning.

In terms of talent alone, in terms of the talent to wield magical power, he doesn’t even come close to Yurinel’s toes. He simply overwhelms her with sheer, brute effort over time.

No matter how powerful the techniques of past eras are, they cannot be used without training. All this power is something Grimudo built through his own efforts, not something bestowed from the heavens.

The hero couldn’t overcome this vast gap in time. She couldn’t surpass the wall of knowledge.

“Once, the quiet Leyman and the Elder Geher challenged me.”

The Demon King clasped his hands together, comforting the fallen hero. She wasn’t the only one who had lost.

Countless others had challenged him, and all had been defeated. Those who managed to escape alive could be counted on one hand. The Demon King still remembered the names of those rare few. Yurinel’s name now joined that glorious list.

“Even those who called themselves Grand Masters couldn’t defeat me and fled. So don’t take it to heart. You didn’t lose because you were inferior to me.”

Magical power takes form. It’s not Power Techniques shaping the form.

It’s more realistic, more specialized. While less versatile than Power Techniques, it excels in shaping forms.

The practitioners of old eras turned the world’s magical power into their own spiritual energy, using it to create diverse forms for combat.

The sword Grimudo wields is also shaped from spiritual energy. All these methods are incomprehensible to Yurinel, a completely different discipline from Power Techniques, so it’s no wonder she’s at a loss.

How on earth does he wield magical power like that? Without any foundational knowledge, no matter how talented she is, she can’t grasp it. Without shared common sense, everything remains a mystery.

The spiritual energy gathered like a mountain and deepened like the sea, forming a calm black pond in the air. From that dark pond, a furry beast with no eyes or nose leaped out, opening its only mouth wide to threaten Yurinel. Rows of needle-like teeth filled its maw.

*Clang!*

As it bit down on the Sacred Sword, a crack formed, and light burst forth. The beast was destroyed by the desperate beam of light, but the crack in the Sacred Sword remained.

“Th-the Sacred Sword… it’s cracked?!”

Parnell, exhausted from magical depletion, collapsed to the ground.

Yurinel herself wasn’t too surprised. She looked at the Sacred Sword with somber eyes, running her hand along the blade. She barely held back the tears threatening to spill.

‘Even you couldn’t hold on any longer, huh.’

From the moment she was toyed with by the sword pressure, she could feel the sword reaching its limit. From the moment the Saint, Araidel, showed a weaker side than Kyle, Yurinel realized and accepted that the Three Divine Gods weren’t as great as she had thought.

Her opponent is the Primal Demon King. The infamous whip of the Western Family, the Demon Killer, was cut down in one strike by this out-of-spec existence. The fact that the Sacred Sword held out this long was something to be grateful for.

“If you’re going to go, let’s go together. Can you stay with me till the end?”

The light in the Sacred Sword flickered. She’s been with this thing for ten years now.

After spending that much time together, even strangers become like a married couple. Yurinel could now understand what the sword was trying to say just by its flickering.

Wealth. Honor. Glory.

All of that may now be a vain dream,

but if she could die after landing one blow on Grimudo, becoming a hero who died fighting, that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s resignation. But giving up made her feel much more at ease.

“Fine. Come at me.”

Seeing the resolve in Yurinel’s eyes, the Demon King smiled in satisfaction. He extinguished his palm strike, dispersed his spiritual energy, and stopped the shockwaves. What he wanted to show her now was the technique he had most recently mastered—a technique still in use in this era: Power Techniques.

Behind Grimudo, black magical power writhed and condensed. The color of his magical power was a pure black, devoid of any other hues. Blackness means extinguishing all other colors. Any color that touches black becomes tainted and murky.

Only those with extraordinary determination and will can create black Power Techniques. The pure black Power Techniques took shape behind Grimudo.

It wasn’t the sun or the moon. It didn’t borrow the form of a dragon like Ardein or Harmail. Having already reached the pinnacle, why would he need to borrow someone else’s form?

“G-Grimudo…”

The black magical power formed Grimudo’s own figure, standing tall behind the Demon King. The Power Techniques, filled with an indescribable determination and near-mad will, glared at Yurinel with glowing eyes.

Color, form, and essence. Another Grimudo, embodying all three elements of Power Techniques, roared at the sky, and the world turned black. The Black Power Techniques had finally revealed themselves.

“I can’t win…”

Lucia Western’s eyes, having collapsed, filled with despair.

“That… I can’t win against that.”

Even the pride of the Demon Hunter was thoroughly crushed and overwhelmed. In truth, when it came to Grimudo, that pride was nothing more than recklessness from the start.

A person standing against a typhoon with bare hands isn’t bravery or confidence. It’s not even worthy of being called recklessness—it’s just madness.

“Cough! Hack!”

At that moment, a coughing sound echoed, and dust rose into the air. Breaking through the line of death drawn in the void, Araidel and Reinhaim finally escaped the dark force field.

Their hair was disheveled, and their once neat clothes were now tattered. With their divine power nearly depleted, the first thing they saw upon escaping was another Grimudo standing behind the original. The black “Grimudo” looked down upon the world as if it were a god.

“Good heavens…”

“Dear God…”

The two let out simultaneous gasps.

In that short time, the situation had gone from the worst they had imagined to something far beyond.