A Holy Knight charged forward, swinging his arm broadly. His movements painted themselves in my mind. The cross-sword with its wide blade was heavy and sluggish, and its long guard made it entirely obvious which direction the blade would swing.
Even without telepathy, the current me could have easily dodged it. What a shame. If I dodge, everyone will just think it's all thanks to my mind-reading.
I raised my skewer and blocked the cross-sword. The skewer scraped fiercely against the broad blade—wide enough to reflect my face—sending sparks flying. Force is inevitably proportional to mass, and my body was pushed back by the hefty cross-sword. At point-blank range, my eyes met the Holy Knight's.
'His footwork is decent, but a mage is still just a mage! I'll overpower him with sheer strength!'
He kept his shoulder forward and rammed straight into me. A body check—simple, yet devastating. This reckless charge was backed by his battle precognition and absolute faith in the priests' healing.
Just where was his limit?
Bang. The Holy Knight's shoulder drove into my abdomen. Muscle compressed against steel. It hurt quite a bit. However, I had drawn him in exactly as much as I wanted.
'He's solid...! This isn't Aura! What is this? It feels like I'm grappling with a ferocious beast!'
I snatched the momentarily stalled cross-sword with my bare hand. Blood dripped from my sliced palm, but the Holy Knight's sword was firmly caught and couldn't budge.
I yanked the sword, retrieved my skewer, and pulled again, aiming for the Holy Knight's temple. The sharp skewer shot toward the Holy Knight with the speed of a lightning bolt.
'Death!'
Battle Precognition. Forewarned of his death, the Holy Knight twisted his body frantically. He shoved me aside with his shoulder and snapped his head back, evading the lethal trajectory. Simultaneously, he radiated his Aura to the absolute limit, enveloping himself in a protective Aura barrier. The Holy Knight's Aura lacked flexibility, but it was incredibly dense. Hardened Aura alone was enough to block a blade.
Tch. Missed. I reversed my grip on the skewer.
'...Precognition?!'
He saw his death. Since he prepared for it, there was no need to push further. Instead of stabbing his temple, I targeted his fingers. I slithered my hands between his grip on the cross-sword, jabbed and twisted, and forcefully pried his grasp open.
Having focused his Aura on his head, the Holy Knight's grip had momentarily weakened, and he was stripped of his cross with embarrassing ease.
A swordsman losing his sword, or a priest losing his cross. Which is more humiliating? I don't know, but this Holy Knight just suffered both. How about it? Humiliating, isn't it?
'What in the world is this bizarre hand technique?! He broke through my guard with the skewer, and the instant a gap opened, he coiled his fingers around the hilt and snatched it away! It's like dealing with someone who's trained their entire life just to steal sword hilts!'
Now's not the time for those thoughts. Especially when you've just been disarmed.
"Brother! It's dangerous!"
Just as I raised my skewer to finish him off, an interruption came. Two Holy Knights thrust their cross-swords forward in unison. Since I couldn't block their attacks with a single skewer, I shoved the captured Knight away and retreated backward.
Tricky, this is.
Because of their Battle Precognition, I can't land a lethal blow in one strike. Even if I wound them, they instantly recover as long as it isn't fatal. I need to methodically corner them using my superior strength and skill, but the Holy Knights, backed by their priests, move as a single organism and cover each other.
It's no wonder people hate fighting Holy Knights. They read all my moves, flawlessly counter even the most exquisite ambushes, and wars of attrition don't work against them. It feels like I'm being dragged down into a quagmire, and it's pissing me off.
"Those aren't the movements of a mage. Are you alright, Brother?"
"Careful...! That man sees right through all my movements. He exploits my blind spots with blasphemous and sinister methods, and worst of all, he's twisting our Battle Precognition...!"
"Twisting the divine revelations of the Celestial God? What nonsense is that? How could a mere creation defy a divine authority bestowed by the Celestial God?"
"He isn't defying it! You'll understand once you face him yourself! That man... is like a demon!"
Still, Holy Knights excel in defense, not offense. If I can just overcome their Battle Precognition, things will get much easier.
The problem is that Battle Precognition is a divine authority of the Celestial God. A power that has become order incarnate. A system called the 'Celestial God', which symbolizes the Holy Emperor's Church itself.
Can I really overcome it? Sigh.
"Hold fast to your faith! That man is a demon. Do not be deceived! Charge!"
"The Celestial God watches over us!"
Brimming with faith, the Holy Knights steadied each other's resolve and tightened their formation, pressing down on me.
***
"It's useless. All of you."
Passion is an emotion born from fighting, clashing, and the friction that follows.
That was why Lankart Spendry was so utterly dry. Blistering heat or fierce passion had nothing to do with him. Even facing a Cardinal blessed by the revelations of the Celestial God—a being whose power and authority stood at the very apex of the pyramid—Lankart remained freezing cold.
"I told you, righties can't invade my world. Brute force won't work. Not even if you're the Celestial God."
"Silence, you blasphemous wretch!"
Cardinal Elton leaped dozens of meters in a single stride. Blessed with revelation, he could do whatever he deemed necessary. When he stomped, the earth swelled to support him; when he kicked off, the wind surged to push his back. A spotlight flared into existence wherever his gaze fell.
Cardinal Elton's victory was guaranteed. As long as divine revelation was with him, he would never know defeat.
However, his opponent was Lankart Spendry.
Tantalos—the dumping ground for all the kingdom's dregs, evils, and profane filth. The incarcerated prisoners had rotted there for over a decade, growing ever more vicious, baring their fangs to devour one another.
The man who descended into that hell alone, slaughtered every last one who resisted, and strolled right back out. The strongest mage of the military state.
Lankart Spendry.
"Most strong people are right-handed, you see."
Cardinal Elton, mid-charge, realized his trajectory was inexplicably curving to the right. Though he was clearly stepping forward, the distance between him and Lankart wasn't closing. He was orbiting the man like a planet around the sun.
Lankart flicked his right hand in his direction.
'Divine Revelation...!'
Cardinal Elton was a monk as well. Battle Precognition acted as his guardian. Though, since becoming a Cardinal, his life had never been in direct danger, so it likely hadn't activated until now.
Within Lankart's Unique Magic Domain, he sensed 'death' from that mere flick of a finger. Reacting instantly, his holy chasuble moved of its own accord and enveloped his body.
Erupting from Lankart, an intense shockwave burst forth from the right-handed world and slammed into him. It struck like a cannonade. Explosive booms echoed in succession, and Cardinal Elton's massive frame was sent flying like a ragdoll.
His torn and tattered chasuble crumbled to dust. The divine power enveloping Elton healed him, but the shock that rattled his entire being left him momentarily immobilized.
Amidst it all, Lankart spoke, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.
"Come to think of it, isn't it written in the scriptures? God prizes the right hand."
In the distant past, such tales were told. The right was considered a direction of happiness, honor, and auspiciousness; the seat to the Celestial God's right was recorded as the most glorious position. Conversely, the left hand was sometimes deemed wicked and demonic.
Nowadays, sects interpreting the doctrines differently have emerged, but... Cardinal Elton spoke up.
"The Divine knows no bounds. Whether left or right, the Celestial God treats them equally. The right hand is merely an order imposed by ignorant subjects like us!"
God is absolute; what is lacking is merely human faith. Cardinal Elton preached the doctrine he believed in. An absolute being would favor no single side. If truly omniscient and omnipotent, He would treat left and right with perfect equality.
Lankart snorted at those words.
"The moment you say that, you're wrong. Right and left are not equal."
"...What do you mean?"
Lankart calmly raised his right hand.
A mage's Unique Magic Domain is his interpretation of the world's form. Mages who analyze the world and draw near to its roots eventually learn to project their own imagery onto reality. A Unique Magic Domain is the act of overlaying one's own rules onto the laws of the world.
That is why, among mages, such sayings exist:
The more powerful a mage's Unique Magic Domain, the more profoundly they have understood the principles of this world.
Lankart may be an overbearing, insufferably arrogant man, but the reason he was treated with such reverence was because his Unique Magic Domain was powerful enough to be counted on one hand even across the entire Floating City.
Among them, some doubted what profound truth a mere right-handed world could possibly hold, but Lankart paid them no mind. The words of fools incapable of comprehending such principles were no different from the howling of beasts.
Lankart declared resolutely.
"Because God is right-handed."
***
"Hah, ack!"
"Gasp, gasp..."
Despite their lofty reputation, the Holy Knights were more accustomed to defeat than victory.
Firstly, the Holy Knights did not fight the weak. If their opponents possessed faith and displayed proper etiquette, the Holy Knights would treat them as kindly brothers and offer their care. The Holy Knights only ever faced formidable and vexing foes—villains, heretics, dark mages, and mystics. They fought far more losing battles than winning ones.
Holy Knights excelled far more in defense than offense. Their Battle Precognition, healing, and Divine Aura were exceptional, yet entirely passive. They might maintain the upper hand throughout a fight, but they lacked the power to ultimately finish off their foes.
On top of that, having embraced faith over forging their own principles made their weakness inevitable. If they were truly strong, they wouldn't have needed to become Holy Knights in the first place.
However, Holy Knights did not fear defeat. They fought their entire lives for their faith; they believed that even if they died, their sacrifice would serve as the cornerstone for a new future.
But.
"A de...mon!"
Facing this single man, they felt true fear for the first time today.
'Revelation isn't working!'
Battle Precognition isn't working.
No, it was working. It was working, yet he mocked it like it was a lie. He would harbor genuine killing intent and push them right to the brink of death, but the moment they detected it with Battle Precognition and guarded against it, he would retract his killing intent like a lie and claim a different advantage instead.
The man, still wearing that unfathomable smile, let out a sigh and spoke.
"Do I look like a demon to you? Now that's just too much. I haven't even killed a single person yet."
Saying so, he suddenly thrust his head forward. Startled, the Holy Knight swung his cross-sword. It was a flawless diagonal slash—textbook perfect—with all the weight of the thick blade behind it.
He blocked the descending blade with his sleeve. A mere shirt cuff couldn't possibly block an Aura-coated blade. Shaking off his fear, the Holy Knight put his weight into it, intending to cleave right through the cloth. The divinely empowered blade made contact with his arm.
It should have worked.
Shwirrrk. The sleeve dissolved into dozens of cards that cascaded down. They were cards forged by spreading steel thin. Where they came from was a mystery, but the overlapping layers of cards blocked the blade like scale mail.
"Kugh!"
Even if it was blocked by armor, feeling the impact from that swing should have been normal. But this opponent was anything but normal. Unafraid of being sliced, he trapped the cross-sword in his armpit, yanked the Holy Knight forward in one motion, and thrust out his skewer. The skewer, shooting up like a bolt of lightning, pierced straight toward the space between the Holy Knight's brows.
The moment he felt the crisis of death, Battle Precognition painted the Holy Knight's future. He hastily raised his elbow to shield his face.
"My, my. It was just a joke. You're far too jumpy."
And then, a soft chuckle reached his ears. The skewer changed its target in that exact instant. The Holy Knight didn't even realize what had happened. He felt a heavy impact on his elbow, and before he knew it, his cross-sword had been snatched away. With fearsome dexterity, the man spun the cross-sword around before casually tossing it aside.
He was deliberately targeting the cross-swords, the very faith of the Holy Knights. It felt as though he was mocking them, asking if their devotion to the cross was truly that shallow.
However, they couldn't overcome that mockery.
That man rendered their Battle Precognition—the power of their faith—completely useless. The moment they reacted to its warnings and moved to counter, he would instantly shift his target to their cross-swords. It was as if he were purposefully denying the Divine itself.
No, it was undeniably his intention.
"Do not halt, Brothers!"
One Holy Knight gathered his courage and shouted.
"That man seeks to blaspheme our faith! Do not fear death! Charge forward! Surround him!"
The Holy Knights charged forward as valiantly as the words suggested. Once again, Battle Revelation descended. It painted a vision of the thrust skewer piercing right between his eyes.
'A revelation of death...! But! It'll be a feint this time too! I will not follow the Battle Precognition!'
It had been that way the entire time. If they read it with Battle Precognition and evaded, he would shift his attack as if he had anticipated it. His attacks were feints from the very start; he was always ready to pull back at a moment's notice.
It would be the same this time. If so, then he would ignore the Battle Precognition and thrust straight through.
'O Celestial God, forgive my blasphemy!'
The cold skewer plunged into the skull of the Holy Knight, who had momentarily abandoned his faith for the sake of his faith.