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Chapter 39: Spear Technique

The sound of her voice echoed through the courtyard like the brush of an icy blade against the back of his neck.

Damon’s eyes widened and he whirled around, his spear in hand instinctively raised in guard.

Behind him, standing in the shadow of one of the courtyard’s columns, was Ester.

Her crimson eyes were half-lidded, watching him with the unwavering air of soone who had already judged and condemned before even hearing explanations. The woman’s cold beauty made his heart race, but not with desire—it was the sa sensation as standing before a superior beast, staring him down only to decide whether or not he was worth crushing.

"Esther..." he began, his voice breaking slightly, still breathless.

But there was no ti for words.

She took a few steps forward, her gaze roaming the spear in his hands, the cracks in the ground, the sweat on his skin. A soft sigh escaped her, heavy with disapproval.

"Hmph. Ridiculous," he said, his tone so cold it sounded like a slap. "You force energy like a child trying to fill a broken vase. That’s not how you use a spear."

Damon’s heart pounded. The pride in his new strength, the excitent that vibrated in every fiber of his body, was shattered in a single sentence.

He opened his mouth to retort, to at least defend himself, but Ester held up her hand dismissively, silencing him before he could make a sound.

From his sleeve, he pulled a rectangular object and threw it toward her. Damon, surprised, instinctively dropped the spear to receive the item.

It was a book.

The cover, made of dark leather, was marked with golden inscriptions in an ancient language, symbols that pulsed like live coals. The weight of the to in his hands wasn’t just physical—there was power there, a power that refused to be ignored.

He looked up at her, confused, but Ester didn’t wait.

"Study," he said simply, his voice firm and brooking no argunt.

Damon looked down at the cover again. As his fingers brushed over the golden symbols, a wave of energy coursed through his skin, almost as if the book recognized him.

Instantly, sothing flashed before his eyes.

[You have received the Technique: Emperor’s Spear]

Damon’s heart raced. The title glowed like fire in his mind, accompanied by threads of information he could barely absorb. It was as if the knowledge had been injected into his core, just waiting for him to open himself up and assimilate it.

But with the euphoria ca doubt.

Why was she giving him this?

He looked up again, eting Ester’s gaze. She stood motionless, arms crossed, red eyes burning with coldness and disappointnt.

"Your weakness is irritating , Damon," she said, almost spitting his na out like a burden.

Damon clutched the book to his chest, his breath quickening. Humiliation burned like fire, but at the sa ti, there was a hidden warmth in her words: she had deed him worthy of learning that technique.

Ester then turned, as if she had already fulfilled her role, and took a few steps toward the courtyard exit.

"I..." Damon began, but words failed him.

She didn’t look back.

She simply raised her hand in an almost indifferent gesture and said,

"Prove you’re not just another failure."

Silence fell again as she disappeared beyond the columns.

Damon remained there, alone in the courtyard, feeling the weight of the book in his hands. His heart burned with humiliation and desire, with anger and excitent.

He lowered his eyes to the cover, his fingers tightening on the inscriptions.

"Emperor’s Spear... Hehehe... doing things stupidly to get her to notice is working... a cultivation technique and now a spear technique..."

His chest tightened, and a demonic smile ford on his lips.

"You’re quite simple, Ester Deathstriker."

[Side quest unlocked: Master the Emperor’s Spear — 0%]

Damon slowly ran his fingers over the cover of the book, feeling the leather vibrate beneath his touch. It was as if the to had a heart of its own, beating in sync with his. Taking a deep breath, he opened it.

The pages exuded a faint tallic scent, like dried blood mixed with freshly forged iron. The golden symbols on the cover spread across the interior as well, lines of runes that writhed and seed to change shape whenever he looked away.

The first sentence, however, was clear.

Written in black, razor-sharp letters:

"The spear is the will of an emperor. It does not exist to strike; it exists to subdue the world."

Damon felt a shiver run down his spine. It was unlike anything he had ever read. The technique wasn’t just about movent or how to channel energy—it was a philosophy. A declaration of absolute mastery.

He continued, his eyes devouring the lines.

"Those who wield the spear without understanding its essence are rely warriors.

But he who wields it as an extension of his will becos sovereign.

Do not cut, do not pierce, do not twist—command.

And the world will obey."

Damon narrowed his eyes, absorbing every word. He rembered the blows he had delivered earlier in the courtyard, full of raw energy, violent, but empty of aning. Now he understood the reason for Ester’s contempt. He only fought. Only attacked. But the "Emperor’s Spear" was not a weapon of combat—it was a weapon of dominion.

Turning the page, symbols began to project into his mind. Lines of movent, flows of energy, diagrams that described how power should circulate through the body before rging with the weapon. It was writing that seed made of pure energy, burning directly into his consciousness.

A throbbing heat spread from his demonic core to his hands. The book seed to react, the pages fluttering on their own, as if approving his reading.

"First Stance: The Decree."

It was the beginning.

The foundation.

"Do not raise the spear to strike. Raise the spear to declare.

Every strike is an order.

Every movent is a sentence.

If your heart wavers, the spear will waver.

If your will wavers, it will break.

But if your conviction is absolute... even the heavens will bow."

Damon took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words sink deep into his mind. It was unlike anything he had ever learned. Strength wasn’t enough, fury wasn’t enough. He needed sothing more—authority.

He looked up at the empty courtyard, his hands closing the book tightly. The spear rested nearby, leaning against the stone.

A smile crept across his lips again, no longer just malicious, but ambitious.

"So that’s it..." he murmured, his eyes glowing a deeper red. "It’s not just about fighting... it’s about domination."

The wind blew, and for an instant, Damon swore he heard the echo of distant thunder, as if even the sky had responded to his initial reading.

[Technique Progress: Emperor’s Spear — 3%]

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