'But though these facets co from one's interactions with the world itself, they are entirely ours… The world communes with these facets to indirectly control and stir us… but it's only because most, if not all, have no idea these facets exist…'
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'…and can be controlled. These facets are fundantal and inseparable parts of the very fabric of our existences.'
An exhale left his lips, carrying a foggy heaviness.
'So this is how Adari did it. He used his understanding and control over Laws to attack through my Karmic Brand and isolate my arm, as if it were an existence on its own yet still linked to .'
'Then, he severed the karma between this false existence and myself, essentially rewriting my entire… existence. To make it as if I'd never even had an arm in the first place.'
'Not only is it a deep application of karma, life, death, and ti laws… he also added chaos laws to disturb the harmony of my existence itself.'
'What a monster. What a monstrous genius—the bastard essentially created a technique that… rewrites your opponent's existence.'
These thoughts tore through Caine's mind with inexplicable ease, his Dao Heart bouncing off the endless vitality of his life heart to forcefully overload his brain, pushing him deeper and deeper into his enlightennt.
And in turn, the scope of his mind widened while retaining its elasticity, allowing for… much more.
Much, much more.
'The Five Aspects. The sixth aspect. The four facets.'
Caine's gaze turned upward, his eyeless face staring at the skies above.
Above his head, he had no star. No thread. No line. No brand.
Observing this, Caine couldn't help but grin madly. At that mont, two terrifying techniques were birthed in his mind.
***
A few days passed.
After spending ti sparring and familiarizing himself with the other Holy Knights, Caine was finally summoned by the Pope.
[Holy Capital—Sacred Hall]
In a wide and empty hall, its towering ceilings adorned with ancient paintings, thick golden pillars radiated qi, holding the structure aloft.
The floors of black obsidian reflected the faint light of the room, giving the space a somber, ethereal quality.
Caine and Pope Francis faced each other.
Pope Francis sat lazily reclined on a throne, his chin resting on his closed fist. His gaze, full of amusent, calmly observed Caine.
On the other hand, Caine stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, his deanor entirely serene. He didn't move, speak, or act.
He simply waited.
The Pope smiled and finally broke the silence.
"You've changed quite a bit, little Velios."
"How many years have passed since we last t, from your perspective?" he asked, leaning forward and interlocking his fingers.
"Five years in a few hours," Caine replied directly.
"Interesting," the Pope muttered. "Well, I'm sure you have quite a few questions. Go ahead and ask them."
Caine remained silent for a few monts, his thoughts drifting back to their first encounter.
More specifically, to a set of words the Pope had spoken back then:
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