Chapter 275
It was a flow that should never have been perceptible. To mortals, karma was something that flowed one-sidedly down upon them from higher dimensions. Even if one were born into nobility and awakened exceptional talent, whether they could perceive or handle that flow was an entirely different matter.
In some ways, it resembled mana, but karma existed on a far higher plane. It could become energy, or it might not. It could define a life, or overturn it. It could aid, or obstruct.
If one were to name a single discipline from scientific civilization that ran parallel to it, quantum mechanics would come closest. The flow of Karma was a realm that reduced even Grandmasters, those who could claim to have barely stepped onto the threshold of ultimate magic, back to rank beginners.
“Ghk!”
Leon nearly released his grip on the sword by reflex, then snapped back to his senses, asking, W-what was that just now...?
—Forget it. It’s not something you can understand yet.
El-Cid admonished him in a firm voice. —Focus on the flow of karma. As you close the dimensional gate, the causality that accumulated inside the distortion is pouring out. You won’t find another opportunity like this.
Leon redirected his concentration as instructed. Not outward, but inward.
He observed his own body as though dissecting it, then stepped even beyond the material realm. Mana flowed through his blood vessels. Was the occasional spark leaping through his nervous system a synaptic signal?
His mental state, elevated severalfold beyond normal, pushed his soul that had been made unstable by the massive influx of karma into the next stage. He was seeing through the eyes of a transcendent being, capable of observing causality itself.
This is...!
—Can you see it? Or is it more accurate to ask if you could feel it?
Leon stopped himself just short of nodding. Even the smallest movement could shatter his focus, so he repeated each breath with utmost care.
—From here on, don’t react to my words. Just listen. Even if there’s something you don’t understand, don’t ask. Find the answer yourself.
El-Cid spoke approvingly. —Karma is involved in both the innate and the acquired. It defines an existence’s fate and can also break it. Until death, mortals remain bound by karma, inevitably influenced by it. Once you pass the Master’s wall, that influence lessens, but it never disappears completely.
In some cases, the restraint only grew stronger, such as when innate karma like killing star or madness absorbed vast amounts of karma and broke past the wall. Whether one transcended their nature or was completely consumed by it, crossing the boundary was the same.
—But a transcendent is completely free from karma.
There was a reason the word “transcendence” was used. What transcendent beings truly surpassed was not merely the limits of biology, but the bondage of karma itself—the chains of causality and destiny that dictated the course of life.
To them, divine authority and the laws of the world were no longer absolute. If they could overwhelm with pure power, even gods and Demon Kings could be brought down. That didn’t mean it was easy, only that it was possible.
—To become a transcendent, you need enough accumulated deeds to separate your existence from causality. To forge yourself into a world of your own, you need the clay to shape the vessel.
El-Cid continued. —Unfurl your will. Store a portion of the karma currently passing through your body, the way you would mana. Don’t rush. Don’t be greedy and try to take it all. Even a handful is enough—just enough to move at your command. Once you accept it, don’t let it go. But if it tries to flee, don’t chase it.
Leon’s eyes lost focus, growing hazy. No. It was more than his vision. All five senses shut down as he sank inward. If someone attacked him now, his head would be taken clean off, but entering a transcendent state without that level of risk was impossible.
Impermanence and non-self. He spread the “self” bound to his flesh into consciousness, sweeping up the surging karma around him as though casting a net.
—Oho? You’re doing pretty well.
El-Cid sounded genuinely surprised. He knew Leon’s Psychokinesis had grown immensely through his clash with Sisyphus, but this level of application was far beyond expectation. It was different from how he—Holy King Rodrick—had done it in life.
Rodrick had drawn karma in with an overwhelming gravitational pull, like the sun itself. A mortal capable not only of interfering with karma but of dominating it outright never existed before him, nor would they ever appear again.
—It’s modest, but not bad. Well, it suits you.
Like a rock standing firm in the middle of a flowing river, Leon didn’t resist the force that sought to grind him down. Instead, he accepted a portion of it naturally.
This was Leon’s path: born a commoner, endlessly striving as a man of ordinary talent, then beginning to change his life the moment he drew the Holy Sword.
The karmic shackles rooted deep in that life loosened. The countless monsters he had cut down, higher beings like Nephren-Ka and the Death King; the deeds absorbed through the Holy Sword as he eradicated Evil restructured Leon’s body, transforming it into a constitution difficult for corrupt power to invade.
All four Stigmas flared at once. Observer, Prayer, Purifier, Guardian, the blessings the Goddess herself had engraved were sublimated one step further by Leon’s virtuous deeds and melted into his body. From now on, their function would not diminish even where neither sun nor moon shone.
The eyes that once gleamed only when he drew on power were now fully dyed gold, gazing beyond light itself. A reconstruction of the body, an evolution on a higher plane than the body change that followed his ascension to Master.
—What, there’s more?
The moment El-Cid voiced his astonishment, a second evolution began. What Leon had done as a Hero was not limited to the eradication of evil. Salvation, too, was a Hero’s deed.
Saving the city of Blaine from being swallowed whole. Saving Rubena. Preventing the chaos of the cursed sword incident and minimizing the damage. Stopping Nephren-Ka’s reincarnation in the Great Desert and saving both nomads and beastkin. Saving an empire destined for ruin by the Death King’s descent. Each deed alone was trivial, but the lives Leon had saved now exceeded the millions.
With a chilling sound, bones and muscles writhed beneath Leon’s skin. Cartilage and ligaments worn down over time, muscle fibers that had reached the limits of growth, all broke past their boundaries once more.
His nervous system, once scorched every time he fought at full power, grew tougher than mithril. His already resilient bones hardened beyond adamantium to the point of being able to endure even the backlash of Corona with ease. And yet, the greatest change was something else entirely.
The heat swirling near Leon’s heart flared brightly enough to be seen from outside his body. The instant it ignited, its color surpassed blue flame and reached pure white. A fire no living being could possibly contain without harm formed a core within Leon, without injuring him in the slightest.
A Soul Heart. An organ symbolic of transcendents, whose rank as a component could be said to surpass even a Dragon Heart.
Even Cerberus seemed transfixed by the radiant glow, all three heads fixed on Leon at once.
—To think I would witness such a rare sight.
What Leon was going through was called “Ascension.” Even in ancient times, when Grandmasters existed by the dozens, it was a moment few could ever witness.
This is the last step.
In Leon’s mind, where even his sense of self had dissolved, a conviction arose, one whose source he himself could not explain. One step still remained, and if he failed to take it here, he would wander once more.
His body had evolved. His soul had sublimated. Two elements of essence, energy, and spirit, were complete. All that remained was the final one: a body that eradicated evil, a soul that saved lives. Then, where, exactly, should his heart be directed?
I... don’t know.
In the world of impermanence and non-self, where even his own name had faded, there were few mental images he could maintain. To retain the self at this depth, one had to be a transcendent. To become a transcendent, one had to accomplish what only a transcendent could. It was a literal contradiction. Only those who made that absurdity succeed could break past the wall.
I... really don’t know.
Body and soul peeled away, leaving behind a mind purified to its utmost, wandering with nowhere to go. If he failed to find a path in this state, he would fall to inner demons.
That deviation was a catastrophe so dreadful that, for martial artists beyond a certain level, it was synonymous with a death sentence. Even mild aftereffects required years of recuperation.
With Britra’s invasion looming, the Hero’s deviation would amount to a global crisis. Whether Leon realized it or not, he reached out into the empty space before him.
I don’t... kn...
That was when it happened. A question, louder and stronger than his own voice, halted his wandering.
—Stage one of the Mind-Blade is turning your effective range into a domain through willpower, expanding your perception. So what do you think comes next?
He knew the answer. He had only needed a trigger to draw it out.
“Establishing one’s own, unique law...”
The instant Leon recalled those words, he reclaimed the name. The second stage of Mind-Blade—that was why El-Cid had pressed him while facing Sisyphus. A realm where mental imagery gained direction and overwrote the laws of the world. From this stage onward, those who became Aura Masters by ordinary means could no longer follow.
It was a path only Leon could walk. Leon, who had perceived willpower even before becoming an Aura Master, and had been taught how to wield it.
El-Cid advised him. —Recall the moment you cut Sisyphus.
Though it had happened only once, the experience of cutting through permeation stripped away the fog that should have shrouded the unknown path, revealing it with clarity.
Breaking the law of the power that returned anything to nothing through sheer scale of force was impossible. So, how had Leon broken permeation?
Like this... wasn’t it?
Following that vague memory, he moved—not his body, but his mind—and forged a single sword. Its form was identical to the Holy Sword, El-Cid.
From the moment he first gripped a sword hilt on the academy’s back mountain, Leon had always had only one sword. El-Cid.
Whether it was a Holy Sword or not no longer mattered. It was the teacher who had guided him to this day, the companion who had carried him through countless battles and victories.
“Ah. I see.”
Standing before the seemingly insurmountable wall, Leon finally understood. What cut through permeation had been the Mind-Blade.
The blade of mental imagery that shaped his heart into a sword. Absolute trust in El-Cid.
“The Frontier.”
One who advances ahead. One who shows Leon the path he must walk.
Naturally, that Mind-Blade wielded the power to open the way. A single glint of swordlight flickered, as swift as thought itself.
“Mind-Blade, Leon Style, Sole Sovereign Starlight: Flash.”
In the mental world, physical speed held little meaning. If the power contained within the heart was insufficient, even lightning-fast strikes were no more than static. But if that power was enough, even a gentle breeze could blow a mountain away.
And then, a massive fissure split the towering wall that blotted out even the sky, and from beyond it, blinding light poured forth. As Leon’s entire inner world was engulfed in that radiance, the dimensional gate of Nether Valley closed, as though timed to the moment. The source of Nether Valley had vanished.
Immediately after, a colossal flash erupted from Leon, who stood before where the gate had been, sweeping away the gloomy hues that stained the sky. The clouds of mist that formed Nether Valley burned away. Beyond them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, lay a blue sky.
Who would ever find out? That with a single strike in his mental world, Leon had erased the miasma that had stagnated over Nether Valley for centuries.
“Hoo...”
Beneath a sky so blue it made the eyes ache, Leon slowly opened them, the Holy Sword hanging loosely at his side. His eyes shone with a sacred golden light. An alien presence, as though gazing toward some distant place. From far beyond, Leon’s transcendent sight caught the stirring of darkness.
“Britra.”
It was moving, and the final battle was drawing near.
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