He twisted his wrist and sent Mars flying.
"Martial Arts are divided into ranks. Common. Rare. Exquisite. Legendary."
Zeus slipped into the opening created by Mars’ attack, striking low. His fist was caught effortlessly.
"One who has a Rare-rank Technique Spirit is stronger than one with a Common-rank Technique Spirit. Even at the sa Realm."
"We know that too," Zeus said through clenched teeth. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
The Martial King’s gaze sharpened.
"There is a legend," he said slowly, "that a fifth rank exists. Beyond Legendary."
Both Zeus and Mars froze for half a breath.
"If you can learn Martial Arts (Extre Arts) of that rank, and cultivate them to the Third Realm, you will be able to fight Fourth Step Cultivators."
For Martial Artists, Technique Spirits were the manifestation of their Martial Arts. They were one and the sa.
Unlike Elental Gods or Divine Beings, Martial Artists themselves had no inherent rank.
Their strength was defined entirely by their Technique Spirits.
Even if soone had a Third Realm Technique Spirit, learning a new Martial Art ant starting from the beginning.
The new Technique Spirit would have to be cultivated all over again. It would not be at Third Realm just because the Martial Artist had one at that rank already.
The Martial King looked at the two of them carefully.
’I don’t know where the two of them were until now, but if it’s them... they might begin a golden age for Martial Artists,’ he thought,
His expectations were high.
Mars might be able to learn a Martial Art beyond Legendary rank.
Zeus might be able to reach the Fourth Realm and carve out a path to survive it.
They were the most talented Martial Artists he had ever seen.
That was why he had decided to place his hopes on them.
When the training finally ended, the Martial King left without another word, leaving the healers to tend to their broken bodies.
After being patched up, Mars jumped to his feet imdiately.
"Hey, Zeus," he said, stretching his arms. "Want to train together?"
"I’m busy," Zeus replied as he turned away.
Before Mars could say anything else, Zeus teleported, vanishing into the night.
Mars stared for a mont, then scratched his head. "That guy’s weird."
Zeus moved silently through the darkness.
He had been training in secret for a long ti now, hunting cultivators far from the Martial King’s senses.
It wasn’t sothing he spoke about, not to Mars, and certainly not to his master.
There was a reason for it.
It also helped distract him.
But tonight, the cultivators were hard to find.
So his thoughts drifted.
To his past.
To his mistakes.
To the countless tragedies he had caused.
Neo had revived everyone Zeus had killed.
And yet, Zeus had never gone to see them.
Not his forr comrades.
Not even his sister.
Even if they were alive again, the things he had done could not simply be forgiven.
That was why he stayed away.
’I did everything to kill the Devil of Cruelty, and now I’m helping him,’ Zeus thought bitterly.
If Apollyon won or Neo won, stability would return to the Cosmos.
Since it did not matter to Zeus which side won, he decided to be on the side of his sister.
The reason Zeus had been obsessed with erasing the Devil of Cruelty until now lay in the Akashic Records.
More specifically, in the First Child of Mana.
Euphemia Theodore.
He had t her by chance once. Or so he had believed at the ti.
She had shown him fragnts of a prophecy. A future where the Devil of Cruelty destroyed the Cosmos.
That was why Zeus had hunted down every seed that might beco him.
Only after entering the True Blessed Land did Zeus realize how limited his perspective — a perspective of Stage 6 God — had been.
How narrow his understanding was compared to the truth.
’First Child of Mana. Euphemia Theodore.’
’Also known as the First Witch, and the Witch of Greed, .’
He had learned her true identity after eting Elizabeth in the True Blessed Land.
’Why did a Witch help create the Akashic Records?’
’And why did she guide toward killing the Devil of Cruelty?’
Zeus had tried to find her.
But she was within the Great Net of Life (Sea of All Consciousness).
Accessing that place was nearly impossible unless certain conditions were t.
And Zeus didn’t yet know what those conditions were.
...
Neo’s POV
Neo kept training.
Not just alone, but with others.
He sought out people who could pressure him in different ways, who could expose his blind spots. One of them was Veydran.
They stood facing each other after a long sparring session.
"How strong is Apollyon?" Neo asked.
Veydran tilted his head slightly, thinking.
"Hmmm."
After a mont, he spoke.
"He killed Master and Hades the mont he returned from the True Blessed Land. Back then, he was still a mortal on the Elental and Divinity Paths. As a Martial Artist, he was at the Third Realm."
"...What?" Neo asked.
"Yes. He spent most of his life here. He didn’t have access to proper elental training. That’s why he relied almost entirely on Martial Arts."
Neo’s expression darkened.
"And after that," Veydran said, "he began walking the Elental Path in earnest. Eventually, he beca the Fate Supre."
So elents existed naturally.
Death. Fate. Ti.
These were not created by individuals. They were woven into the Cosmos itself. When a Supre of such an elent was born, they didn’t invent a Law. They inherited control over an existing one.
Other elents were different. Fire, Ice, Lightning, and countless variants only ca into being when soone reached Supre rank and carved their authority into reality.
.
After eting with Veydran, Neo continued seeking out others.
He spoke with people who had fought Apollyon directly, people who had witnessed fragnts of his power.
The answers differed in detail.
But the conclusion was always the sa.
Apollyon was overwhelmingly strong.
When Neo finally finished, he sought out Paul.
There was sothing else he needed to confirm.
"Hey," Neo said casually, sitting down beside him. "Do you know how Ultris and Julie ca to know about the Devil of Cruelty?"
Paul thought for a mont.
"They found a docunt in the Forbidden Lands. It was believed to be from a previous Eon. The docunt claid that only the Devil of Cruelty could defeat Order."
Neo nodded.
"So because Apollyon acts as Order, they started searching for the Devil of Cruelty," Paul continued. "That’s what led them down that path."
"I see."
Neo didn’t say anything else, but his thoughts were already elsewhere.
’As expected, they entered the Forbidden Lands, found one of Hades’ records, and mistook it for prophecy.’
He had only seen a brief summary, and major turning points of Hades’ life.
But Neo was certain.
Hades had written that docunt.
’Order didn’t an Apollyon. It ant the Cosmos itself.’
Ultris and Julie had misunderstood.
Still, the Devil of Cruelty did exist.
And it could certainly defeat Apollyon. So, in a way, Ultris and Julie were not wrong.
Devil of Cruelty was supposed to be Alia.
But now the [Fate] had split.
Part of it rested with Neo.
Part of it rested with Alia.
No one could say for sure which of them would beco the Devil of Cruelty in the end.
’The more I learn, the more I understand why the Mother of Dragons went insane.’
He looked up at the sky.
"The Dao is corrupt," he muttered.
The words made him shudder, as he was beginning to realize their true aning.
...
Apollyon’s POV
Apollyon sat on the throne within his palace.
Golden threads drifted through the air around him, humming softly, tangling and untangling in complex patterns.
Each thread carried fragnts of possibility, cause and effect woven into one.
Before him hovered a projection.
It showed the Sect.
Neo. Elizabeth. The others.
Are we going to attack? Are we going to attack?
The Golden Threads buzzed insistently.
"No," Apollyon replied.
Why? Why? Why? You know their location. You learned it when you t that child in the dream.
You were always capable of finding them even before that. Why are you wasting ti? Why?
The threads trembled, confused and agitated.
Why aren’t you killing the spy? Why is Paul still alive?
Why are you allowing the Martial King to train Mars and Zeus? Why aren’t you killing the Heavenbreaker before he regains his strength?
Apollyon didn’t answer.
He closed his eyes.
His mind returned to his eting with Neo.
The calm gaze. The quiet resolve. The kindness that felt familiar in a way Apollyon hadn’t expected.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
You are smiling?
You? You? You? You?
The Golden Threads buzzed louder, almost alard.
Apollyon opened his eyes and erased the smile.
"If I attack him now, Fate tells there’s a high chance he will escape."
That made the threads pause.
"That’s why I will attack him in a few years when—"
Hahahahaha!
The Golden Threads erupted in laughter, vibrating with excitent.
In a few years he will regain his strength!
And he will beco infinitely more powerful!
You will lose if you fight him then!
"I will not lose. He can gain as much strength as he wants. He will still be defeated."
You will lose!
You will definitely lose!
You trust the tapestry of Fate within your Cosmos, but that child is already approaching the level of existence from the True World!
A tapestry from a lower realm can no longer predict his future accurately!
The threads twisted and spun, almost gleeful.
You will lose if you fight him later, Apollyon!
They waited.
Buzzing.
Anticipating his response.
"I will not lose," Apollyon repeated.
So you won’t attack until the ti is right?
"Yes."
Hahahaha!
The Golden Threads were satisfied.
If you say so, then fine.
But trust us. You will lose.
And when you do—
Bahaha!
Don’t worry. We will save you if you lose!
Apollyon glanced at the threads from the corner of his eyes.
He said nothing.
His gaze returned to the projection.
’He is kind. Just like Hades.’
He closed his eyes again.
This ti, he recalled words spoken long ago.
Words of Ouroboros.
No—of his father.
—The next generation will always surpass the previous one. If we cannot find the answer, then we must raise the next generation properly. So that they can do better than us.
’You were right, Father.’
’The new generation is splendid.’
His eyes opened.
The projection showed people gathered together.
People who lived peacefully.
People who had been born into the utopia Hades had created, whether they realized it or not.
’But...’
Apollyon’s expression hardened.
’I do not wish to leave my problems to the next generation.’
’The duty of the older generation is not to hand down suffering.’
’It is to create a safe haven where the next can grow without fear.’
His gaze lingered on the projection.
On the Heavenbreaker.
A being who had never been part of Fate or the [Entity]’s grand calculations. Soone who had not been chosen, predicted, or prepared.
And yet, sohow, had beco an umbrella protecting everyone beneath him.
’Just a few more years.’
’And I will finally be able to break the cycle of suffering.’
Only a few years.
Apollyon would be able to complete his duty.
And finally rest.
Reviews
All reviews (0)