Page 110

In the forest where a saintess nearly met her end, I arrived just in time, gasping for breath.

I had run like my life depended on it to make it here.

Glancing behind me, I saw the saintess, Acrede, with handprints still visible on her neck.

She looked at me with her usual expressionless face.

It was just like her—silent even after nearly being strangled.

To be precise, though...

It was like the other her.

"Saintess, couldn't you have at least tried to resist?"

Even to my unfamiliar question, she rose to her feet without a flicker of emotion on her face.

"My blessing doesn’t fully manifest against a cardinal."

As she said, there was a reason Acrede couldn't use her power against Centriol.

Blessings tend to cancel each other out.

Although Acrede was a saintess, her opponent was a cardinal who had reached the level of Paladin.

Even though he was on the verge of corruption, he was still active as a cardinal in the Holy Church.

For Acrede to overpower him with pure physical strength alone was nearly impossible.

And for me, it was the same.

The Holy Church does not grant the title of Paladin lightly.

Paladin is a designation reserved for the top three holy knights of the Holy Church.

An academy student like me didn’t stand a chance.

The only reason I had managed to catch him off guard earlier was due to his murderous rage and focus on Acrede.

But there wouldn’t be a second chance.

And to make things worse—

"I’ve already used up today’s Dragon Ascension."

I had used the transformation earlier to revive Isabel.

Using it twice in one day, even for me, would leave my body in ruins.

In other words, I had to face a Paladin without relying on the Dragon Ascension.

Centriol cracked his neck as he slowly rose to his feet.

His face was unscathed, looking as composed as ever.

Had things gone according to plan, Centriol was supposed to injure himself and retreat.

But my decision to bring Duke of Whitewood into the mix had thrown things off.

‘Duke of Whitewood is still fighting.’

Mystics wouldn’t just stand by and get beaten.

They would use their own mysterious powers to fight back against him.

And dealing with mystics, with their endless variety of powers, always takes time.

"Are you a student from Zerion Academy?"

Centriol seemed to know something about me.

"I saw you wielding the magic of the ancient dragons."

White sparks flickered from the blade he had drawn.

His blessing surged, and flashes of light crackled menacingly.

"It seems there’s no issue with executing you on the spot."

"Is it fitting for one blessed by the gods to oppress a mere child?"

"There are no exemptions for criminals, regardless of age."

So, to him, I was just another criminal.

"Saintess."

I positioned myself in front of Acrede and called out to her quietly.

"Can you use your blessing widely?"

"I can."

Alright.

That gave us a fighting chance.

Taking a deep breath, I clenched both fists tightly.

The Holy Church’s mightiest knight.

A Paladin.

Let’s see how far I can go against him.

My right eye took on the remnants of an ancient dragon’s power, and a pale, icy aura formed in my grasp.

At that moment, Centriol moved.

With a single step, the distance between us shrank in an instant.

It felt as though a giant had taken a single stride.

The overwhelming aura emanating from him threatened to engulf me.

Goosebumps ran down my entire body.

Instincts screamed at me to run.

As expected, a Paladin was in a league far beyond an academy student.

But then—

Flash!

A burst of light erupted behind me, spreading blessings across the area.

The surroundings turned an eerie white, and pale trees shimmered in the wind.

Behind me stood a woman with platinum hair flowing as she clasped her hands together.

Acrede, Saint Narea.

A saintess personally crafted by the goddess.

The radiant blessing of the goddess enveloped the entire area.

In an instant, the situation shifted drastically.

The explosive momentum Centriol exuded disappeared.

He no longer felt as immense as before.

As mentioned earlier, blessings from the goddess cancel each other out.

The goddess’s blessing bestowed upon the saintess was of a higher rank than the cardinal’s.

Just as Centriol had nullified the saintess’s blessing to overpower her with brute strength earlier, now the goddess’s blessing nullified his, leaving him with only raw physical strength.

But I was different. I had never been blessed by the goddess.

There was nothing about me that could be nullified.

Centriol’s movements slowed compared to before.

I could keep up with him now.

Clang!

His sword clashed against the edge of my hand, sending a sharp metallic sound ringing through the air.

My body, reinforced with the Steel Body, had grown even stronger with the addition of the ancient dragon’s cold energy.

And that wasn’t all.

My left hand surged toward Centriol’s exposed chest.

Centriol quickly stepped back, his rear foot anchoring his retreat.

My attack narrowly grazed his collar.

Rip!

The edge of his collar tore as it caught on my fingertips.

His eyes widened in shock.

All I had done was swing my hand, yet it had felt as though my blade had severed it.

That’s because my hand was imbued with the magic of the ancient dragon—a nearly invisible cold aura that constantly froze everything it touched.

I had gained unparalleled cutting power by refining that cold aura to an incredibly thin layer.

My hand was no longer just a blunt weapon focused on piercing—it could function like a blade.

I lunged forward, closing the gap between Centriol and me, my hand reaching for his throat.

Unlike a sword, which requires a sweeping motion, my attacks needed far less movement.

This meant fewer constraints on my actions.

‘Centriol hasn’t adjusted to fighting without his blessing. This is my chance to finish it.’

As I was about to drive a knife-hand strike into Centriol's neck, I saw him drop his sword.

In an instant, Centriol's hand coiled around my arm.

By the time I realized what it was, it was already too late.

Sacred Grappling.

A martial art devised by the Holy Church to allow its warriors to fight evil to the end, even without a sword.

The goddess’s blessing was merely supplemental to Centriol.

His true strength lay in the training and combat skills he had honed as a holy knight.

Whoosh!

The next moment, my body was airborne, and Centriol spun his foot in a swift, circular motion.

Crash!

“Ugh!”

A searing pain shot through my back as I slammed into the ground.

The sheer force of the impact shattered the earth beneath me into pieces.

Even though I possess a body of steel, which grants me far superior defense than ordinary people...

A body is still a body.

Attacks that deliver such blunt trauma can still pierce through.

Centriol had noticed this during our earlier clash and acted on it immediately.

He twisted the arm he had pinned to the ground.

He clearly intended to break it.

Though dazed by the impact, my judgment was swift.

A magic engraving etched into my elbow flared with light.

Boom!

The engraved explosive spell propelled my arm upward toward Centriol’s chest.

I seized the opportunity to grab his collar tightly.

“Remnant of the Dragon!”

In an instant, an icy aura erupted from my body and surged toward Centriol.

Crackle!

The frost of the ancient dragon consumed Centriol’s head, encasing it in ice.

Crack, crack!

At the same time, a deafening noise came from my right arm.

Even with his head frozen, Centriol managed to twist my arm.

This arm, reinforced with the magic of the dragon and a body of steel...

For him to break it—it was an insane display of strength.

I kicked Centriol’s stomach from my prone position and rolled away to escape.

My broken arm dangled limply, throbbing with excruciating pain.

Cold sweat ran down my face from the agony.

Still, having endured many hardships recently, I had learned how to manage pain.

And besides, I wasn’t alone here.

A divine touch settled on my arm.

The shattered limb quickly began to return to its original form.

The pain vanished entirely.

The one who healed my arm was Acrede.

She was still praying with her eyes closed.

Even so, for her to pour out such a significant blessing—enough to counteract the cardinal’s power—was no small feat.

Beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

Healing my arm in her condition was remarkable in itself.

“We don’t have much time.”

She was doing her best, but so was our enemy.

Clink!

During this time, Centriol shattered the ice encasing his face with his hand and lifted his head.

Through the falling shards of ice, his cold, piercing eyes emerged.

Centriol stomped on the hilt of his sword lying on the ground.

The blade flipped into the air, and he grabbed it once more.

I steadied my breath, facing him again.

Even without the goddess’s blessing, he was a monster.

He had earned the title of Paladin through sheer merit.

Honestly, I had less of a chance here than I did against Nikita.

‘In that case…’

I had no choice but to squeeze every last ounce of power I had.

Win or lose, giving it my all was my creed.

I extended my knife-hand forward.

Centriol responded by gripping his sword and pushing off the ground.

The gap between us closed in an instant once again.

I couldn’t recklessly charge into his space like before.

Even if I managed to close the distance, his Sacred Grappling would take me down again.

Centriol’s sword came sweeping upward from below.

I crossed my arms to block the strike.

But Centriol didn’t stop there.

He traced a path with his sword, executing consecutive heavy blows.

Each strike sent shocks through my arms as I blocked them.

Trying to break free, I stretched my leg forward.

I stomped on the foot he extended while executing his sword technique.

The magical engraving on my elbow activated, unleashing an explosion.

My left fist struck the hilt of his raised sword.

Clang!

The impact disrupted the trajectory of his swing.

Taking advantage of my stance, I pulled my right shoulder back.

At the same time, the magic engraving on my right elbow activated again.

Boom!

The explosion launched my body forward, and my right knife-hand shot out like a cannonball.

Centriol released his sword to grab my arm again.

The same situation as before.

But this time, an unexpected variable came into play.

Whirr—

The bandages wrapped around my arm unraveled partially from the explosion.

With them, the reach of my right arm suddenly extended.

Centriol had miscalculated.

He tried to grab my shorter arm—Hannon’s arm.

But now it was Vikamon’s arm, much longer.

Thud!

Centriol’s grip missed its mark and slipped.

His eyes widened.

Even the seasoned Paladin, with all his experience, was caught off guard.

In that moment, our gazes met—his shocked, mine bearing a sly grin.

Behind me, the light of the explosive magic engravings flared fiercely.

The synergy between magic and mysticism.

A massive explosion.

As the explosion erupted like a halo, I let out a war cry.

My right arm, engulfed in the force of the explosion, drove straight into Centriol.

BOOOOM!

An unpredictable move layered upon another.

This was the decisive blow that pierced through the mightiest knight, the Paladin Centriol.