Black hair, black eyes, simple clothes.
Yet, the aura radiating from his very bones—an aura that reigned supre above all living beings—instilled an impulse in everyone who laid eyes on him to bow down in worship.
He—was none other than Hair.
With his Divine Power no longer restricted.
Hair defied the laws of physics, suspended in mid-air. Step by step, as if treading on an invisible staircase, he descended from above.
His feet made contact with no physical object.
Yet, the air beneath his feet seed paved with invisible steps of jade.
With every step he took, a ripple visible to the naked eye would spread through the void.
That was not magic, but a phenonon created by pure Divine Power compressing the physical laws of this fragile world.
The clamor below had long since vanished.
Whether it was the young girls brandishing bamboo swords or the boys with their faces caked in makeup, at this mont, they were all like puppets whose pause buttons had been pressed. They could only crane their necks, watching that figure descend from the heavens step by step.
Finally, Hair stopped in the high air, roughly ten ters away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the Headmaster's Office.
His gaze penetrated the layer of specially-made bulletproof glass, falling unobstructed upon the black-haired girl.
Their gazes t in the air.
Hair spoke slowly.
His voice was not loud, yet it transmitted clearly into the eardrums of everyone present, like a great bell tolling directly in the depths of their souls.
"Do you want to understand the aning of life?"
"Do you want to truly... live?"
This classic line, which was unknown how many planes of existence it had echoed through in this universe.
Now recited by a true deity, it was no longer a simple inquiry, but a dialogue that struck straight at the soul.
The mont these words ca out.
The corners of the mouth of the girl behind the window curled up slightly.
There was no fear.
There was no panic.
In those black eyes that usually revealed only arrogance and boredom, a cluster of flas nad 'fanaticism' finally ignited.
"Interesting."
Amou Kirukiru murmured in a low voice.
Facing that suffocating Divine Might, she raised her head, revealing an excited smile.
"If you can really let experience what it ans to truly live, then I don't care what happens."
As soon as Amou Kirukiru's voice fell.
Hair's figure vanished abruptly.
No afterimage, no sound of breaking wind.
It was as if this specific fra of the scene had been directly cut out.
In the next instant.
Hair was already standing in front of Amou Kirukiru, the distance between them less than half a ter.
Close enough to clearly see his own reflection in the other's pupils.
At the sa ti.
Hair also felt the thumping in Amou Kirukiru's heart caused by his descent.
"I sense from your heart that you desire to challenge ?"
"Do you wish to challenge?"
"To challenge a god with a mortal body..."
"Such ambition is indeed rare in that world."
Hair was not repulsed by Amou Kirukiru's fighting spirit; on the contrary, he appreciated it exceptionally.
After all.
In Orario, among those adventurers standing at the apex—Level 6 or even Level 7—who among them did not harbor intense ambition?
So even truly possessed the qualifications to touch the domain of the gods.
"I do."
"Since that is the case."
Hair lowered his eyelids, looking at the girl whose muscles instantly tensed to the extre.
"Then, co."
Shwip—
The instant Hair's voice faded.
Amou Kirukiru moved.
No, it was a concept faster than movent.
Her body's center of gravity sank instantly.
Her right foot slamd down, shattering the floor beneath her.
Her entire person was like a fully drawn strongbow; the brute strength accumulated over several years erupted without reservation in this mont.
Her hands transford into sword-hands, her fingertips gleaming with a cold luster resembling tal.
[Ryukyu Ancient Martial Arts · Uechi-ryu].
This was an ancient martial art that tempered the flesh to the extre, turning every inch of the body into a lethal weapon.
Spear hand, elbow strike, knee smash...
In the instant she assud her stance, thousands of attack routes, force-exerting techniques, and muscle rhythms unfolded, decomposed, and reorganized in Hair's mind with absolute clarity, like a holographic projection.
The Authority of the [Master of Weapons] allowed him to instantly perceive all the mysteries of this martial art.
Even more thoroughly than the founder who created this martial art.
"Too slow."
Hair said softly.
Bang!
A muffled explosion detonated between the two.
Amou Kirukiru's sword-hand, sharp enough to slice through steel, was forcibly deflected by an irresistible, colossal force the very instant before it touched Hair.
That force savagely tore apart her stance.
It penetrated her defense of muscles—which she prided herself on being as hard as steel—and blasted directly into her body.
This force was enough to cripple a seasoned Level 1 adventurer.
"Pfft—"
A blossom of blood blood on her finger.
It was the blood vessels bursting, unable to withstand the instantaneous pressure.
Amou Kirukiru was sent flying backward, slamming viciously into the office desk behind her.
The solid wood desk instantly shattered into pieces.
She fell wretchedly into the pile of wood chips, clutching her finger. Bright red blood flowed through the gaps in her fingers, dripping onto the floor, making a drip-drop, drip-drop sound.
Pain.
Intense pain.
How long had it been since she tasted this flavor, ever since she reached the summit and tempered a body of copper skin and iron bones?
Three years?
Five years?
Ever since those so-called strong people fell at her feet one by one, her world had only remained with boring domination.
But now...
That long-lost pain, which felt as if it were tearing her soul apart, made her body tremble uncontrollably.
Not because of fear.
But because of excitent.
"Ha... Haha..."
Amou Kirukiru swayed as she stood up, looking at the blood covering her hand. The smile on her face grew wider and wider, even appearing sowhat twisted.
"Is this blood?"
"Is this pain?"
She raised her head, those black eyes staring dead at Hair, who stood in his original spot. Her eyes were filled with fanaticism.
Hair looked at the girl whose montum had actually surged despite her injury, a trace of appreciation flashing in his eyes.
As expected of the person he had set his sights on.
In that strike just now, the force he used was enough to break the bones and tendons of a seasoned Level 1 adventurer.
But Amou Kirukiru, rely by resisting with her physical body, had suffered only a minor injury; not even a few bones were broken.
This level of physical intensity was already no less than those low-level adventurers wearing light armor.
As long as she was granted Grace, her potential would be imasurable.
Hair made a fair evaluation.
However.
Before Hair could speak.
Instead, Amou Kirukiru, who had just been revealing her madness and looking as if she would rush up to fight for her life in the next second, made a move that sowhat surprised Hair.
She did not hesitate.
Bending one knee.
She knelt heavily on the floor covered in debris.
She lowered that head of hers, which had never bowed to anyone, and knelt before Hair in a posture of near-total submission.
"God."
"Please take away."
"To that place you spoke of, where I can truly live."
Amou Kirukiru respected only the strong.
____
New Story: Danmachi: But I am a God, ti to make a family!
🔥 25% off sothing at the funeral parlor... care to take a look? 🔥
✅ Read 40 chapters ahead on all series.
✅ Get exclusive content and updates.
Help us hit our targets:
🎯 100 Powerstones = 1 free chapter for all
🚀 140 MBERS = 5 bonus chapters (all stories)!
👻 P - Walnutchan
User Comments
0 comments from readers