At this ti, Byron and Cortes stood atop a pyramid, right at the Flaying Temple.
SHIIING—!
Even though Byron was three ters away, a fierce sword wind suddenly scraped across his armor, leaving a long, narrow, shallow mark. Despite the cyan flas flowing around it, the armor instantly returned to its original state. However, Byron imdiately realized that the nature of the wind had been completely changed. Even a real piece of paper here would no longer dance with the wind but would be cruelly shredded into pieces by the opponent’s sword wind.
The next mont, the stone temple roof was instantly cut open in a perfect circle, and the two of them fell through. This enclosed structure had beco the ideal arena for a Swift Sword fencer to display their abilities. Then, Byron was completely enveloped by the "Ceremonial Circle."
CLANG, CLANG, CLANG...
In an instant, Byron felt surrounded by sword gleams from all directions. The Knight Spear in his hand, transford into a sword as usual, was hard-pressed to defend himself. Even if he could barely dodge the most lethal Thrusts, he was still battered, sending sparks flying. Even the muscles beneath his armor were frequently injured, and fresh blood quickly soaked the horse’s back. Clearly, in this state, it was no difficult feat for the Swift Sword, a Miracle, to slice through steel.
Like a mathematical formula, the "Supre Art," combined with the "Flow State" that granted him perfect self-control, provided Cortes with the most concise "equation" for his attacks. Even though Byron’s Storm Sword Technique was faster and his centaur-like strength greater, it was as if an insurmountable problem for an ordinary person had suddenly fallen into the hands of a top student, to be readily solved by more sophisticated swordsmanship.
However, this ti, finding himself in peril, Byron did not use his "Sword Truths," which had seen several upgrades: Storm Axe Quickli; Storm Axe Knockout Drug; Storm Axe Molotov cocktail... Instead, he relied solely on his own Storm Sword Technique to tough it out. After all, it was his consciousness that had descended into the servant’s body, and his true self could not die. This gave him the utmost confidence to fully let loose and refine his swordsmanship.
The Conqueror, Cortes, failing to overwhelm Byron in one go, ant that his Sword Moves, full of mathematical beauty, naturally all beca precious nourishnt for Byron’s improving swordsmanship. Without any hesitation, he projected all of his consciousness into Alvin’s body. He completely imrsed himself, forgetting the Golden Code at his waist, the inexplicable "Plague-Proof," and even the increasingly nurous wounds on his body. He only rembered the five prerequisites to reaching Flow State:
First, undivided attention and a complete sense of imrsion.
If dancing on the knife’s edge, where death could co at any mont, doesn’t qualify as imrsion, what does?
Second, you must have a goal worthy of paying a price for.
I’m willing to give up even this life; who dares to be more ruthless than ?! It’s just a life, after all. What’s the big deal if I lose it? Alvin, if you don’t say anything, I’ll take that as a yes.
Third, imdiate feedback; Fourth, due to full concentration on this...
Fifth...
The remaining key points, Byron had already forgotten as he fully entered the state. He closed his eyes, entrusting the Knight Spear in his hand entirely to his spiritual perception, aware of nothing but the sword.
Under the imnse external pressure and in a state of extre self-forgetfulness, he seed to hear an old voice whispering in his ear:
God loves all people, but the world’s largest prison is the human mind. If you cannot escape your own obsessions, you are a prisoner wherever you go.
Another voice, carrying the clang of tal, said:
What the heart never forgets, will surely have an echo. The world is an echo valley. Shout and sing, and the valley will thunder, your voice travelling a thousand li, wave upon wave, until even the world beyond receives it. Everything the heart never forgets, will surely have an echo!
No, those weren’t sounds; they were insights left behind by the Sages who pioneered this path, settled in the great sea of humanity’s collective subconscious.
A series of insights, in the form of abstract experiences, continuously guided Byron—who was like a blindfolded man fumbling outside a gate—onto the correct path. Thanks to the existence of the "great sea of human subconsciousness," Byron could directly listen to the guidance of Sages from hundreds, even thousands, of years ago. There would be no generational gaps or errors due to interdiaries transcribing texts, lost dia, or the impact of war. The knowledge he was now receiving was no different from what their disciples had learned back then. This generational inheritance and accumulation of civilization is also humanity’s greatest advantage in rising abruptly in the Supernatural World and standing at the top of the food chain!
「In an instant.」
Byron seed to have returned to the mont of his Spirit Awakening. Everything in the material world beca extrely slow, yet everything in the spiritual world beca extrely fast. Guided by those voices, Byron’s Spirituality finally, bit by bit, touched the Gate of Flow State, which was already very close.
Finally, the last voice sounded:
Man’s mind is the ’Driver’ of his own destiny. His chariot is pulled by two horses. One is a noble steed, guiding him upward toward the pure ideals of God; the other is an unruly steed, dragging him downward toward the body. Man has the ability to ascend to Heaven, even to achieve Rebirth as a divine being. Yet he is constantly tempted by bodily desires, which pull him down into the bestial material world. Rember, we must firmly grasp the reins and be the masters of our own lives!
Combining the theories of the Crystal Skull and the "Swarm," Byron clearly saw the true path of a Transcendent. Whether they be anchors or sails, Transcendents must always maintain their sense of self to avoid becoming rigid, rule-bound tools, or worse, losing control of their transcendent powers and degenerating into Bizarre Evil Spirits.
I understand now. The ’Ladder of Glory,’ rooted in ’Divinity’ and the super-ego, cos from the Silver Law. The forbidden knowledge, acting upon ’Beastliness’ and the id, cos from those indescribable beings of bygone Eras. Both are tyrants vying for control of the mind. The latter is a slave to the flesh; the forr colludes with human society, demanding that individuals always submit to the greater good. And what I must do now is liberate the consciousness called ’Self’ from the shackles of instinctual desire and imposed rules!
There were no bulging veins from a difficult birth, no near-death struggle; he simply reopened his eyes, a brilliant light shining within them. It ca naturally, a gentle exhalation, "Open!"
A sound like shattering chains echoed from the depths of his consciousness. Byron’s physical body showed no change, but his soul felt incredibly light and vibrant, as if a crushing weight had been lifted. At this mont, he was once again that old sailor from his "spiritual ascension," firmly grasping the rigging of wind-filled sails, feeling the sea breeze in his hair, and the joy of the ship cleaving through the waves. He allowed the sail, ship, wind, and sea to create a harmonious resonance within his very veins. Joy, ease, and a soaring self-confidence filled him.
The remotely controlled "Wild Hunt Servant," Alvin, and the Knight Spear in his hand, were instantly different.
Just as Cortes lunged with his next Thrust, inspiration struck Byron. Ignoring the Thrust, he wielded his Knight Spear like a staff, sweeping it with the force of wind and thunder, and smashed its butt fiercely into his opponent’s chest. It was as if aiming for mutual destruction, to perish together with Cortes. This reckless, life-despising fighting style forced the life-cherishing Conqueror to retract his sword to block while simultaneously dodging and creating distance.
Because "Flow State" is a Spiritual Realm attainable even by ordinary people, it has no outward manifestations and isn’t as easily identifiable as transcendent abilities. Even now, Cortes was only montarily stunned by Byron’s change in tactics; he hadn’t yet realized that the "Mad Hunt" before him had undergone a complete tamorphosis.
"Hmph, a desperate struggle! You must be about to bleed dry, aren’t you? Now, die for !"
But as he once again initiated the "Ceremony of the Circle," using the exact sa Sword Moves as before to strike at Byron, he suddenly felt the wind around him turn inexplicably turbulent. The wind’s trajectory had completely deviated from his original calculations.
What is this...?
His pupils suddenly constricted to pinpoints. He realized it was because Byron was breathing! Wisps of white vapor stread from his mouth and nose. He was actually using the rhythm of his own breath to connect himself with the surrounding wind. The "Storm Knight" was already a master of air manipulation; their breathing rhythm and efficiency far surpassed any other Extraordinary profession.
Moreover, mind and breath were one! Even "Flow State" could be considered a simplified version of the "Breath of All Things," another advancent path for the Storm Knight. The difference was that "Breath of All Things" could perceive, and even control, all things, living or dead. "Flow State," however, only granted perfect control over one’s own Spirituality and physical body. This distinction, so clear in others, was easily shattered in Byron’s case.
His mastery of swordsmanship, riding, Storm Sword Technique, Son of the Storm, Storm Axe... this entire series of abilities was perfectly unified by Flow State, undergoing a qualitative transformation.
SWISH!
Following his original calculated trajectory, Cortes, who had already closed in on Byron, suddenly found a bloody gash on his cheek. The wind within the Ceremony of the Circle had begun to vehently resist him. At this mont, the Conqueror, who was determined to slay the "Mad Hunt," finally had a drastic change of expression.
"You’ve broken through as well? Impossible!"
Greater speed, greater strength, and his swordsmanship realm had also bridged the previous qualitative gap. The "problem" of Byron, which would have stumped an ordinary person, had suddenly escalated from "solid geotry" to "spatial analytic geotry and vector algebra." The "Supre Art’s" initial thod of solving the problem was instantly rendered useless.
Tragically, Cortes had already committed to his Sword Moves based on the old formula, delivering himself right in front of Byron, just as before.
Not dodging, not evading, Byron wielded his Knight Spear like a staff. With a flick of his fingertips, he executed a reverse Thrust! Previously, "Son of the Storm" rely offset the weight of his equipnt, allowing his footwork, torso, arms, and fingers to move with equal speed. This ti, however, was entirely different. The wind not only counteracted gravity but also provided a powerful boost. The butt of his Knight Spear made no sound as it sliced through the air.
A shadow of the staff flickered and vanished. Cortes, having miscalculated, had nowhere to dodge. His Swift Sword, poised to block, was only halfway retracted when the butt of the Knight Spear struck his chest.
CRUNCH!
Byron imdiately released his grip and gracefully retreated, easily dodging the edge of the Swift Sword as it slashed towards his neck. Cortes slowly looked down. He saw that the thick, blunt butt of the Knight Spear had not only pierced his Thirteen Knights dal but had also run straight through his heart.
As his vision faded to black, the last thing he heard was, "Who said you can’t kill soone with the butt of a spear? One in the back, one in the front. You and Beatrice have truly co full circle. Oh, my apologies. There is no end for you; you need to get up and get back to work."
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