The Sun Sword Style was a swordsmanship technique created by Reynald Helios, the leader of the Great Five Heroes, who had sealed the Demon God five hundred years ago. It consisted of nine forms, each one exponentially more powerful and complex than the last.
According to Yuren, even Reynald Helios himself never fully mastered the ninth form, and it existed only in theory.
In any case, while it was called a sword style, only the first four forms of the Sun Sword Style resembled conventional sword techniques. An upward slash, a downward slash, a horizontal slash, and a thrust—these four movements, honed to their absolute limits, made up the first four forms. Starting from the fifth form, the Sun Sword Style could no longer be considered mere swordsmanship. From that point on, it was something closer to magic, or even miracles.
Under normal circumstances, Dale lacked the mana to execute anything above the fourth form. But now that he had ingested the Soul Stigmata Amplifier Potion, for the next five minutes, he could reach a level that was otherwise completely beyond his grasp.
The white radiance blazing from Dale’s sword made the demons flinch and shield their eyes.
“Gah! M-my eyes!”
“W-what is this light?”
Before they could adjust to the blinding light, with horrifying sounds, three demons’ heads were severed from their bodies. This surprised the other demons.
“W-what the hell?”
Dale hadn’t even moved. It was the light pouring from his sword. The bodies of those who came into contact with it were sliced apart, as if it were a blade.
One demon dove to the side, trying to avoid the deadly glow, and shouted, “I-it’s the light! Don’t let it touch you!”
However, even the slightest twitch of Dale’s sword caused the man’s torso to split in half. It was a slash that ignored distance. Anyone touched by the white light spilled blood and fell to the ground.
Calyx furiously shouted at his subordinates, “You idiots! Don’t dodge like cowards and charge him all at once! He’s alone!”
At his command, the demons drew their weapons and rushed toward Dale.
“Y-yes, sir!”
“Surround him!”
However, two more were cleaved apart before they could even reach him, their bodies split by the light.
Still, those who narrowly avoided the light managed to close the distance. A demon thrust a short spear crackling with dark mana straight at Dale’s chest. “Die, you bastard!”
The attack seemed well-timed as Dale had just swung his sword, and it was headed straight for a vital spot, but Dale grinned, baring his teeth. He twisted his body with perfect precision, catching the spear under his armpit. It was a movement so tightrope-thin that even a minor error would have resulted in his heart being skewered. Even seasoned heroes would hesitate at such a reckless technique.
The demon looked at him and said, “You crazy—”
Dale had zero hesitation, as if he had several lives to spare. He yanked the short spear and twisted the demon’s neck with his bare hand.
Another demon, charging with a weapon raised, let out a choked gasp upon seeing his comrade’s neck broken in front of him.
Dale tossed the limp, broken body to the ground like trash and licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “What, getting scared already? It’s only been one minute.”
Then he pounced, like a predator, at the enemies surrounding him. The demons were terrified.
“Gaaah!”
“AAAAARGH!”
“P-please! S-spare me! Gurgghk!”
For those attacking from afar, he slashed his sword and unleashed waves of white light. For those who dared come close, he used hand-to-hand combat to bring them down. He maneuvered to keep his back to the walls and pillars, avoiding encirclement, while slipping between the attackers and making them clash into one another. It wasn’t a battle; it was a massacre. In under three minutes, the thirty-strong group of demons had been halved.
With no way to counter him, the cultists looked to their leader in desperation. “P-Priest Calyx!”
Calyx furiously ground his teeth. “You useless wretches!”
What the hell is that fucker? he thought.
Even though this human was supposed to be just a cadet, if Calyx were to consider all possibilities, a cadet could be just as strong as an active hero, or even stronger. It wasn’t entirely impossible. Yuren Helios, for example, had held the top spot in the cadets’ overall ranking for three consecutive years. There were even rumors that he was far more powerful than most professors.
However, the way Dale moved with flawless technique and no mercy, even under the pressure of thirty opponents, was different. This wasn’t a cadet; rather, it was a human with a presence one would expect from a veteran hero, long since retired after decades of warfare.
Calyx bit his lip in frustration. “Damn it!”
He hadn’t even joined the fight yet, but the scene before him made it clear: We can’t beat him.
It wasn’t possible even with his power, which took him to the position of priest. After all, the opponent was a monster who had already butchered fifteen of his men in just three minutes. But Calyx knew that if he ran away, that person wouldn’t spare him.
Just imagining the Archbishop’s wrath sent a chill down his spine. Calyx pulled a wand embedded with a fist-sized mana stone from his cloak and aimed it at Dale. If he was going to die, he would take the human down with him. A black radiance burst from the soul stigmata on his chest, summoning dozens of dark mana spikes that floated in the air around him.
A barrage of dark mana spikes shot out like a storm. Caught in the crossfire, a nearby demon was impaled and screamed in agony, but Calyx didn’t stop.
Dale clicked his tongue, unimpressed by the deadly barrage. “You’re really trying hard, huh?”
Then, instead of retreating, he charged forward, stomping down hard with the Berald Combat Style: Tremor Step.
The entire hideout shook as if an earthquake had struck it. Rotting planks and mounds of dirt burst from the broken floor, forming makeshift shields that intercepted the raining spikes of dark mana.
Calyx winced, squinting through the thick cloud of dust that had exploded into the air. At that moment, a streak of blinding white light pierced through the dust, grazing the arm that held his wand. His flesh tore open and blood sprayed, then an electrifying pain surged from his arm and spread throughout his body.
“Khrrgh!”
Clenching his teeth, Calyx grabbed his half-severed arm with his other hand, groaning through the pain. But he didn’t have the luxury to wallow in agony. With narrowed eyes, he switched the wand to his good hand and glared at Dale.
It didn’t matter if he unleashed dozens, or even hundreds, of dark mana spikes. There was no suppressing that monster by sheer might alone.
Calyx knew he couldn’t win the battle through brute force. So, he took a deep breath and wrapped his fingers around the fist-sized mana stone embedded at the top of his wand. The mana stone hummed as it resonated with his dark mana, power rippling outward. Tiny fractures appeared on its surface soon, and it crumbled into dust.
Using the mana stone as an offering, he invoked a magic spell, one granted only to those in service to his master, Archbishop Astaroth. “O’ illusion of dreams, heed my call!”
This was a dreadful enchantment that imprisoned its target in a realm of illusions, the so-called “Dreamscape,” where their mind would be twisted and broken.
Blood trickled from Calyx’s eyes and nostrils as he channeled power far beyond his limits. He was merely a priest, not even a Bishop; wielding the Archbishop’s magic demanded a life-threatening price from him. But this wasn’t the time to hesitate.
As the wand disintegrated in his hand, a shroud of black energy burst forth, engulfing Dale in its wake. Then, Calyx said, “Get trapped in the Dreamscape and die!”
The rampaging predator who had torn through his subordinates like a wolf among sheep suddenly stopped moving. No matter how strong one’s body was, if the mind collapsed, it was all for nothing. Watching Dale stand motionless, Calyx smirked triumphantly. “Huhu... That’s right. No matter how wildly you thrash, there’s no resisting that person’s magic.
He then turned to his stunned underlings. “Before he wakes up, quickly kill hi—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a cold, metallic sensation pierced through his gut. A jagged gasp escaped his lips, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. When he looked down, he saw the impossible: a sword was buried deep in his abdomen and the human who had supposedly been paralyzed in the Dreamscape was right in front of him.
Calyx’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “H-how?”
How had he escaped the Dreamscape? There was no way,
Dale’s lips curled into a faint smirk as he looked down at the stunned priest. “Looks like that trick doesn’t work on me.”
“Guh! Hghh!” Calyx’s knees gave out as he clutched his bleeding gut, collapsing to the floor.
The black aura that had been swirling around Dale returned to Calyx, like a summoned beast retreating to its master. The Dreamscape had been shattered mid-cast, and the residual dark mana returned to its source. In that fleeting moment, a psychic connection was established between them, and Calyx’s mind was momentarily linked with Dale’s. It was a phenomenon known among mental-type mages as “Mental Resonance.”
Suddenly, Calyx’s perspective shifted, and his vision flipped. He violently convulsed as the shared connection dragged him into Dale’s psyche. “What... the... hell... is... this?”
Everything was burning, and the entire world was on fire: roaring, cracking, and sizzling.No matter where he looked, no matter where he turned to, all he saw was an immense, world-consuming inferno. The red flames blazed like the tongues of devils, greedily devouring the illusionary world Calyx had so painstakingly constructed.
Calyx had experienced Mental Resonance before, but never anything like this. He was wondering what this was when he saw it.
What is that? What... the fuck... is that? he screamed inside.
Amidst the raging inferno, curled in the center of the flame, was a black figure. As if it had heard his thoughts, the figure slowly raised its head. Then, a pair of glowing green eyes, burning with scorching intensity, turned to face him.
Calyx staggered backward, still skewered by the sword. “Ah!Uh!Aaah.”
As if he had forgotten the blade pierced through his gut, Calyx crawled away on all fours, frantically trying to put distance between himself and Dale.
With only one thought in his mind, to run away, he scrambled toward the entrance of the hideout. What would happen if he fled? What about his fear of Archbishop Astaroth? None of that mattered anymore. All that remained in his mind was the raw, unfiltered terror of this nameless cadet.
“Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!! R-run! H-hurry!” he said.
This time, Dale was the one full of confusion. “What the hell is wrong with this guy all of a sudden?”
He casually walked over to the fleeing Calyx and pressed a foot against his throat. Calyx wheezed as broken gasps squeezed past his lips. Dale clucked his tongue and pressed harder. “Well, I doubt I’d get anything out of you anyway, thanks to that geas. You can just die.”
Calyx’s neck twisted grotesquely, his body twitching once before going limp.
The remaining demons stood in stunned silence, staring at their fallen leader, who hadn’t even managed to put up a proper fight.
“S-Sir Calyx?”
“No way...”
They began backing away, glancing at each other with panicked eyes.
Dale checked his Hero Watch, then turned his gaze to the retreating demons, his lips curling into a grin. “Let’s see... I think there’s one minute left. That’s plenty of time.”
Then, once again, a blinding flash of white light filled the darkness of the hideout.