Chương 78: Chapter 76: Gods

It had happened. The premonition that had been gnawing at Noa's instincts since the first clash finally took shape in the waking world. The Saint, who should have been a cooling corpse with a hollowed chest, was standing. [Judgment Prism (Unique) → Acquired] [Judgment of Sanctity (Unique) → Exalted Judgment (Legendary)] Noa skidded to a halt, his eyes widening as he sensed the radiant figure behind him. I knew something was up!

"Give me a break." Noa turned fully toward Jain, his expression shifting from exhaustion to entertained irritation.

"Now others are interfering as well? What is that, Jain? Your shitty-ass god?" He stared into the golden luminescence radiating around her. He could fully feel it now—the divine pressure of Liara herself bleeding through the Saint's skin.

"Don't address her like that," Jain said. As she leveled her spear at Noa, the fatal wound in her chest knitted itself together with golden stitches. Her hair began to glow, transforming into a river of liquid light that cast long, dancing shadows across the ruins. Noa let out a mocking laugh. Raising a blood-stained hand to flip the heavens a middle finger, he sneered, "Fuck your god! Tell her to come down here if she wants to fight me herself."

His own deep wounds had stopped bleeding, the edges of the gashes turning a bruised violet, but he was far from healed. I need to find a way to break this damn barrier. Noa's mind raced, scanning his surroundings. No skills, no artifacts, no entities… wait—Entities! A wicked smile carved across his face as the opportunity revealed itself. He tightened his grip on Acheron's hilt, the sword's sentient hum vibrating through his weary arm.

[Exalted Judgment (Legendary)] They stepped into the second round, and a constellation of radiant symbols ignited around Jain, orbiting her like vengeful suns. As spears and spheres of pure holy energy accelerated toward Noa, he sprinted straight into the storm. He parried the spears assailing him from every angle, dodging the golden spheres that detonated a second later, erasing the very ground beneath his feet. Acheron moved in a dark blur, weaving left and right to deflect the relentless barrage.

Noa's arm screamed in protest, the muscles feeling as though they might tear straight from the bone. Jain was on him again, her spear drawing a fresh line of crimson across his shoulder. While he was occupied by the constructs, she drove a vicious thrust toward his stomach. Noa angled Acheron just in time, the spear's tip grinding against the dark blade and sending him skidding a few paces backward.

Good, now I don't have to control them manually, Jain thought, descending from the sky alongside a rain of her spears. And I can recreate as many as I want, so long as the divine energy remains.

"Do you really have to keep this barrier up even now?" Noa asked, sliding through the dust to evade a crescent of energy that leveled a nearby building.

"The people are already out of the city. It's just us, Jain."

"I don't know why," she replied, her smile radiant as she unleashed another sweeping slash, "but you seem unable to use your main skill somehow… maybe because of that?" Noa clicked his tongue. He activated [Blink], weaving through a sequence of explosions that painted the ruined city in gold.

The moment Kaelen's blade left its sheath, Nill was already descending from the air, his sword a vertical guillotine of aura-infused light. Kaelen met the strike in a casual, almost bored manner, absorbing the impact before shoving Nill backward with a mere flick of his wrist.

"Have you not even acquired [Aura Blade] yet?" Nill asked, his voice low. He adjusted his grip on his sword, a small, mocking grin playing on his lips as he stumbled back, his boots dragging through the dirt. What was that? He just blocked an aura-infused strike with a normal sword? He thought to himself.

"I think that'll be too much to use on you," Kaelen said, glancing at his bare blade before locking his ocean-blue eyes onto Nill.

"So, this much should be plenty." The two blurred into motion, the shriek of metal echoing through the broken streets. One blade glowed with vibrant green energy; the other remained silent. Yet, with every clash, it was Nill who gave ground. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! Nill cycled through his skills, desperate to find a single opening, a single flaw in the man before him. But every skill failed. Every trick was effortlessly parried.

And through it all, Kaelen didn't activate a single skill of his own, leaving the knight trapped in a spiral of disbelief and creeping fear.

"Is that some power granted by your God?" Nill gritted out, his eyes wide.

"What god do you worship?" Kaelen didn't answer, staring at Nill with a genuinely confused look. He fought as easily as if he were in a sunny training courtyard rather than a blood-soaked battlefield.

"You're asking what 'god' I worship?" Kaelen asked, stepping cleanly into Nill's guard. He shifted his weight, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

"That's the God I worship." Nill followed the gesture even as they traded another flurry of strikes, and his eyes widened the very next instant. What he saw was not something anyone could call a God; it was merely human, a human who couldn't even wield a blade properly. Vionette. Nill's face contorted with disgust. The idea that someone would deify a woman who had just orchestrated a slaughter was an insult to his very soul.

"You call her a god? Have you lost your mind?" Nill roared, lunging forward with a strike.

"Then tell me," Kaelen countered, deflecting the blow with an effortless parry, "have you ever seen what your god looks like? Do you know her true purpose? Do you even know if she's real?" At the question, Nill could only remain in stunned silence. The man had long since ceased his prayers to distant gods—those silent arbiters who answered only through vague signs and unseen authority, never once lowering themselves within mortal reach.

What remained before him now was something else entirely: a god that stood in human form, close enough to be seen, close enough to be questioned—one that walked the same ground and carried her own selfishness as openly as any mortal.

"Why do you lot always assume that all the so-called Gods are righteous?"

"You disrespectful wretch… you dare mock the divine?" Nill backed away, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Aren't you a knight?! Aren't knights supposed to protect people?!"

"Yes, I always wanted to become a Royal Knight." Kaelen looked down at the broken cobblestones, then back up at Nill.

"But Knights only protect the people inside their own kingdom." Staring at the man with wide eyes, Nill muttered, "So you just save people because you want to play the knight; it's just a complex." Dragging a hand down his face, he let out a bout of mad laughter.

"I knew Geoas was right. The whole world is full of filth like you. I will kill you, and then I'll carve the heart out of that bitch." Kaelen's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. He asked in a voice devoid of warmth, "'Bitch'?"

"Ye—" Before Nill could finish the word, a deep, ocean-blue aura erupted around Kaelen, and Nill's voice died in his throat. The very atmospheric pressure shifted, and Nill felt as though Kaelen's very existence had suddenly become denser. Huh? Confused, Nill looked down at his own chest. A clean, diagonal fissure had appeared across his torso, blood welling up instantly to soak his armor. He looked back at Kaelen and found the man still standing far beyond the physical reach of a blade.

But now, Kaelen held a second sword forged entirely of blue aura in his off-hand.

"Surprised? This is the next stage of Aura Blade." Kaelen gestured slightly with the ethereal weapon.

"Blade Projection." There's a next stage to [Aura Blade]? [Aura Blade] was one of the most basic skills, one nearly every fighter managed to acquire. It served well in the early stages, but was abandoned once people unlocked Unique-class skills. The skill [Aura Blade] itself was nothing more than a convenience granted by the world, turning what should require control and precision into something effortless.

But what of someone who never received that skill, who was instead forced to grasp the nature of aura with their own bare hands? What of someone who was forced to master Aura Blade, rather than [Aura Blade]? Even so, the technique itself required no Aether to activate. And so the question remained: where did the vast quantity of Aether naturally resting within Kaelen's body go? Nowhere. It did not flow outward, nor did it take shape as a skill.

Instead, it remained contained within him, circulating endlessly, forced deep inward where it could find no release. In doing so, it continuously refined his flesh and bone alike. And beyond that, there was his Existence—risen, thickened, made heavier still, further amplified by the Fable Mark. Nill fell to the ground below, his sword clattering uselessly against the stones. He looked up at the suffocating presence towering over him, cold sweat pouring down his face as his own blood pooled rapidly on the ground.

"... Monster," Nill whispered into the silence, right before the clean whisper of metal parting flesh.

Noa glided through the rubble of the ruined districts, the concussive force of Jain's skills relentlessly driving him back. He sprinted through the hollowed skeleton of a building, shattering through remaining glass windows before vaulting from the second floor directly toward the Saint hunting him. The moment his boots hit the cobblestones, he instantly closed the distance.

They clashed in a flurry of hand-to-hand combat, Noa trading vicious punches with the radiant woman until a golden spear manifested blindly from his flank, forcing him to leap backward into a cloud of dust.

"Bye-bye." Jain's eyes widened, her golden brows knitting in confusion. Why say goodbye now, when he was the one pinned down? [Blink] He vanished. Noa had spent the last few minutes desperately steering their chaotic brawl toward this specific alleyway, taking a beating just to close the distance to his real target He chained the teleportation skill several times in rapid succession, flickering through the ruined structures to misdirect the Saint's pursuit as much as possible. Then, he came to a dead halt.

His boots skidded to a stop mere inches away from the fading, pitch-black entity known as It, who had been left kneeling in the dirt, abandoned by the shifting battle. Noa's fingers locked around the creature's throat. A wide, predatory smile split his face as he hoisted the struggling entity into the air.

[Echo Reclamation] [Mind Fortress] The moment Noa activated the skill, all the negative emotions of every victim the entity had ever consumed came flooding into his mind—and he welcomed the dark tide with open arms. Then, the world suddenly fell dead silent. The sounds of battle, the golden glow of the barrier, and even the sensation of his own ragged breathing vanished entirely. Everything was wiped blank—no touch, no smell, nothing but a vast, echoing emptiness.

Then, from the depths of the void, a silhouette began to emerge.

"Keyla, what are you doing here?"