Leon recalled a lesson from El-Cid not long ago.
—The first strike is the most important.
In the chained secret technique of four strikes, the first blow was the anchor of everything, the pivot that set all else in motion. In the deep application technique of Alkaid, Piercing Moon, “to pierce” ant exactly that: to drive through.
—In martial arts, the word ‘pierce’ is used in many ways. To pierce through an enemy’s guard, to pierce through his movents, to pierce one step ahead. It applies across offense, suppression, and foresight alike.
So, in this chained technique, what did “pierce” truly an? Leon had been taught that thoroughly.
Alkaid was the only thrust within the Grand Chariot. When enough willpower was added to a thrust focused into a single point, it beca the technique best suited to break through walls. Leon had asked a follow-up question, and El-Cid’s answer had been sothing quite absurd.
—What wall, you ask? Space itself.
At first, Leon thought it was a joke. However, after relentless practice, he realized it wasn’t. Though that didn’t make it any easier to accomplish.
It was like pinning an insect to the ground with a toothpick—except here, the insect was the enemy, and the ground was space itself.
—That’s why it’s called Piercing Moon. A thrust that pierces a single point in the air, like threading the moon in the sky.
How many tries had it taken? Leon rembered only that the failures had passed into the triple digits.
Leon shook off the mory that kept surfacing. Since he had succeeded, the failed tries didn’t matter anymore. That was enough.
It worked.
Indeed, it had. Struck by Leon’s swordlight, Alkaid, the Hive Walker froze. Pierced through space itself, even gravity’s hold faltered for a few seconds.
It was, however, just that: a few seconds. No hole alone could undo space’s power of recovery.
Leon didn’t fail to take advantage of that tiny window of ti. Once again, the Holy Sword drank in light.
Seconds. For most people, that might have been just enough to blink once or twice. For a Master-level swordsman, it was enough to overturn life and death.
From the mont Alkaid landed, Leon was already in motion for the next.
“Grand Chariot.”
Unleashing Alkaid was difficult, but so were the three slashes that had to follow in flawless sequence. He had collapsed from exhaustion countless tis trying to ti them right.
Leon let out a faint smile without realizing it as he twisted his body. The principle was simple enough.
Fix the enemy in place with a thrust, then erase it by binding it in three slashes with no gaps.
If the thrust was a point, the three slashes ford a plane. This was the sword designed for complete annihilation.
However, unlike a point, the three lines had to cross with such precision that they might as well be simultaneous. Any error, and the power would leak away, reducing the force by half.
Still, Leon neither hesitated nor faltered. He simply advanced.
“Heavenly Core, First Form: Dubhe.”
As the downward cut snapped into a horizontal swing,
“Heavenly Jade, Second Form: rak.”
And at last, he unleashed the third slash.
“Heavenly Authority, Fourth Form: grez.”
The light of Dubhe’s strike linked to the end of rak, stretching into a long diagonal slash. Almost in the sa instant, two other arcs intersected with grez, forming a triangle of swordlight. Finally, a wave of light marked the completion of the brand-new chained secret technique.
As Leon pressed forward, the three strokes gathered, condensed, and beca a surging tide that erased everything in its path.
“Chained Secret Technique: Four Stars of Vast Heavens.”
For the first ti in three centuries, the chained technique, Four Stars of Vast Heavens, tore open the night sky, its form shaped like a triangular pyramid.
At its apex, the Hive Walker writhed, fixed in place. As if it had felt the threat of a certain death approaching, it struggled to break free of the space it had been pierced through, even if Nigel’s black mage knowledge and the instincts of seven royal knights cried that escape was impossible.
With a deafening roar, the wave of light struck the Hive Walker, rendering its desperate thrashing completely futile.
And that was the end.
The instant the Hive Walker touched the light of the Four Stars of Vast Heavens, it vaporized without leaving a trace. There was no lting flesh, no burning bone, no boiling blood. It was simply gone.
As if it had never been there in the first place, only the void scorched by fierce heat remained, looking unnatural.
“Phew, it worked.”
Only after confirming the monster’s complete annihilation did Leon relax his stance. The Four Stars of Vast Heavens had been brutally demanding—far more draining than three ordinary strikes—and his head spun from the exertion. At least the moonlight helped him recover quickly.
El-Cid, who had been watching, spoke up.
—That was close. If grez’s link had lagged even by a fraction, you wouldn’t have pulled off the plane formation.
“Ugh. Yeah, I thought so.” Leon accepted the advice with a wry smile.
—The difficulty of grez is high, but it’s a seam you can’t skip if you want to progress. Fix that gap, even if you take so extra ti to practice it.
Leon took the words of advice to heart. The true value of the fourth strike, grez, wasn’t pure destructive power so much as the way it functions as a connector for the rest of the sequence. It allowed Leon to link Dubhe and rak into a single unified plane. It would be an important part whenever he used other chained secret techniques later.
Karen, who had co over, steadied him at the waist as he wavered and asked, “Leon, are you okay?”
“Thanks, Karen. That was the first ti I used it in a real fight. I must have overexerted myself.”
“It was pretty insane,” she replied.
Karen had been troubled already by the Hive Walker’s undying regeneration. To her, Leon’s new technique, Four Stars, was a move she should never let near her; even a graze could be catastrophic. Judging by how he had skipped the interdiary steps and erased that thing outright, its destructive power per unit area might exceed a dragon’s breath.
Just then, Elahan, joining a beat late, called to him to alert that the Margrave of Alger was approaching the trio from the manor’s direction. It was a bold move. He must have watched the whole battle with the Hive Walker, and now, with no guarantee of his own safety, he was walking over to them.
“What should we do?” Karen whispered, but Leon hadn’t planned anything either.
Fleeing was an option, but that’d only look more suspicious. Before they could decide, the Margrave of Alger drew near and bowed formally. His bow was low, but his expression was no less dignified.
“Pleased to et you, honored guests from afar. “Thanks to your aid, my lands, manor, and people were spared terrible devastation. Before we speak anything regarding recompense, first, I must sincerely thank you.”
“...”
“More than as a lord or nobleman, but as a warrior, I am truly amazed by your skill and courage,” The Margrave praised plainly and proudly. “I will not ask your nas. If you desire a reward, I will strip my private coffers to repay your favor. But...”
Their ears pricked at the turn in his tone; there was sothing else.
“...I would ask only one thing. I beg that you answer honestly.”
“What is your question?” Leon replied.
The Margrave’s gaze narrowed as he continued, “About the incident that just occurred in my domain—were the people involved directly connected to the present Emperor?”
The lords weren’t ignorant. They’d watched the mysterious purges, whispers of aristocrats being erased, and odd imperial directives. There were also small deploynts to the frontier that made no sense. The Margrave of Alger had slled sothing rotten coming from the dead Nigel’s presence.
“If we tell you that that is indeed the case, would you believe us?”
Leon deliberately countered, testing him. Even if the imperial court had disappointed the Margrave, reaching out to outsiders was a whole other issue.
The Margrave only smiled wryly and replied, “Of course. You saved my life and my castle, and you possess the force to kill if you wish. How could I distrust those who still show courtesy?”
Leon and his companions exchanged glances. Unexpectedly, he seed like soone they could talk to.
***
Unlike the torn-up courtyard, the Alger manor itself had taken little damage. It showed that Leon’s party had completely sealed off the monster and held control of the entire fight.
The Hive Walker might have been a seventh-tier undead summon, but it was still only that: seventh tier. Facing not just three Aura Masters, but also a Saintess and the Hero himself, it was only natural that it ended in ruin.
The three were led into the reception room with the Margrave.
“I see. I understand the general situation,” the Margrave, setting down his teacup with elegance. “What you are saying is that the Holy Church has believed for years—perhaps decades—that the Clyde imperial family was colluding with the Evil Order.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” Elahan replied. “The Mad Emperor Nex’s fits of madness, along with senseless decrees and atrocities... Everywhere in his conduct, you can see the classic hand of the Evil Order.”
“Hm...”
Sotis, the blunt truth was more terrifying than persuasion.
Elahan, who had morized all the Order’s history at the Grand Church, recited the facts dispassionately.
“Weakening the borderlands to expand the war is also one of their typical tactics. If my mory serves, it was the sa thod used in the destruction of the Kingdom of Con forty-eight years ago.”
The Margrave of Alger felt the sa. If the Clyde imperial family had truly joined hands with the Evil Order, then there was no longer any reason to remain loyal to the Emperor. Who in their right mind would pledge loyalty to a ruler who tried to turn their fief into a sacrifice at the hands of black mages?
“And the army of Jugend is to move within two weeks?” the Margrave asked.
“Yes,” Leon answered.
“Hah... a true dilemma. Not only is this the reward for generations of loyalty to the crown, but now, I must face Jugend with a traitor at my back...”
Jugend was practically the only country Clyde dared not provoke. With vast ore veins and dwarves combined, their tallurgy and weaponry were decades ahead of other nations, and on top of that, they were tied to the Holy Church’s cardinals. It was, quite literally, a hornet’s nest.
Even if the Alger Fortress was formidable, just one Master-level knight breaking through would make its defense impossible. If war broke out in earnest, his defeat was guaranteed.
“There’s no helping it,” the Margrave muttered as he chose to seize the opportunity. “Sir Leon, I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes? Ah, please, go on.”
“Would you write a letter of recomndation?”
Before Leon could even ask what he ant, the Margrave gave a wry smile and added, “One that certifies my declaration—that my domain, Alger, will renounce its allegiance to Clyde and turn its nationality over to Jugend.”
woo: Now this is a level-headed lord.
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