Multiverse's Holy Right

Roy had no idea how long he had been fighting in the Shadow Land. It might have been ten days, a month, a year, or even ten or a hundred years.

Time did not flow in the Shadow Land. There was no sunrise or sunset, no changing seasons or weather—only deathly silence. In this utterly unchanging world, it was all too easy to lose track of time's passage.

Unconsciousness, battle, unconsciousness, battle again...

Fighting suddenly while eating, fighting suddenly while walking, fighting suddenly while changing clothes, fighting suddenly while washing up, fighting suddenly while chatting gently with you—Roy even thought it was fortunate that he could digest all energy without needing to excrete, or else Scáthach would surely ambush him during excretion and engage in battle.

This was Roy's life in the Land of Shadows. Every time, Scáthach trained him to his limits. Every time, Roy felt as if he had already died. Every time, he would scream or curse until his voice was hoarse.

But gradually, Roy's furious cursing grew less frequent, and he even began to somewhat anticipate that feeling of pushing his body and soul to the brink. During his free time, Roy would mock himself—had Scáthach turned him into a masochist?

He knew it wasn't numbness of body and soul, but adaptation. He had adapted to extremes, to pain, to maintaining rationality even in utter despair, searching for that one chance at victory. He had honed a "mind's eye of the self"—no matter how dire the situation, he could use the most rational wisdom to seek a path to victory, never giving up even if the chance of success was zero.

Roy knew—this was the will of a hero, a warrior, a true strongman!

Scáthach was indeed a peerless teacher. Her Wisdom of Dún Scáith possessed the ability to impart all her knowledge to others, almost like the Buddhist concept of "direct transmission of enlightenment." She could unreservedly pass on her insights and techniques—how much the recipient grasped depended on their comprehension in battle.

Through countless battles, countless clashes, and countless receptions of her Wisdom of Dún Scáith, Roy's understanding of martial techniques deepened. The duration he could last in battle against Scáthach grew longer and longer. In fact, if both sides used equal power, Scáthach could no longer knock him unconscious through skill alone.

This was only natural. Roy inherently possessed "wisdom roots" and had an exceptionally high affinity for "wisdom." If he showed no progress after day after day, year after year of extreme challenges, that would be truly unbelievable.

This wasn't to say Roy's skill had reached Scáthach's level—he likely only had about 60-70% of her ability. But that was enough. Scáthach had already imparted all her divine techniques to Roy through the Wisdom of Dún Scáith. One day, Roy would fully comprehend these techniques, reaching Scáthach's level, and then forge his own path.

Roy believed that day was not too far off. It wouldn't be long before he could rival Scáthach in skill—after all, he had already spent far too long in the Land of Shadows.

Once Scáthach realized she could no longer overwhelm Roy with skill alone, she intensified her training, using her absolute power at the peak of human limits to continue honing him. Skill could be mastered quickly through endless battle, but such absolute power was not so easily obtained.

To reach the pinnacle of humanity and attain the qualification to cross the abyss into the domain of the Demon God, Roy knew he must one day complete either of the two great arts—"Genesis" or "Apocalypse"—to achieve it.

Compared to before arriving in the Land of Shadows, Roy's absolute power had not increased significantly, but his combat prowess had skyrocketed. This also completely compensated for Roy's greatest weakness—his lack of a strong will and mastery of martial techniques.

Now, Roy had truly reached the pinnacle in terms of willpower, endurance, and other aspects. It was likely that, aside from Scáthach, no one else could have guided Roy to such heights, pushing his willpower to its absolute limit.

This method—constantly pushing Roy to his limits without allowing him to break through and die, nor letting him fall short and lose effectiveness—was a unique ability born from the wisdom of the demonic realm!

If anyone else dared to teach in Scáthach's manner, their disciple would undoubtedly perish. Take, for example, a certain wandering magician known as the "Jewel Magician."

"Your idea of channeling Bible Power into the Hand of Jacob is ingenious. Even I, your mentor, must praise you. Applying the recreation of mythic abilities to martial techniques is a tremendous inspiration even for me!"

Scáthach was a woman of extraordinary talent. Simply by engaging in battle, she could absorb her opponent's strengths to refine herself and grow stronger. What she yearned for was combat with the strong.

But in this world, no one could fight her anymore. Those stronger than her had transcended, leaving the mundane world far behind, while battling those weaker than her held no meaning. Trapped beyond the world's boundaries—unable to transcend yet unwilling to return to the mundane—she could only sit alone in the Land of Shadows, enduring loneliness beyond ordinary comprehension.

She did not fear this solitude but had lost the meaning of life.

Thus, "seeking death" became her life's goal instead.

Roy's hands moved like fluttering butterflies—now fists, now palms, now fingers—clashing against Scáthach's demonic spear.

Scáthach greatly admired the power of Roy's Hand of Jacob. Tailoring her teaching to his needs, she instructed him on how to land all seven forms of the Hand of Jacob in battle, guiding him on which techniques to use in different environments and how to chain the seven forms together seamlessly.

This was a far cry from Roy's past approach of immediately resorting to his ultimate moves. Against weaker foes, victory came easily, but against true masters or martial experts, his previous usage of the Hand of Jacob would never have landed a hit.

Scáthach was a true master of all eighteen weapons. The spear, being one of the most difficult to wield, was just the beginning. Beyond teaching her spear techniques, she also instructed Roy in unarmed combat and swordsmanship, enabling him to maximize his potential with his most proficient weapons.

Originally, Roy had no interest in learning the spear, fearing it might affect his luck attribute. But Scáthach dismissed his concerns outright, declaring, "As my disciple, how can you not know how to wield a spear?"

BOOM——————

The demonic spear and the sword of judgment clashed midair, their immense magical energy exploding outward and shattering the surrounding peaks of the Land of Shadows.

Roy noticed that Scáthach could no longer control her power as perfectly as she had at the beginning of their battles. Energy leaked from their collisions—clear proof that Roy had grown stronger.

It was much like the concept in martial arts novels where "having no sword surpasses having a sword." Against weaker opponents, one could naturally achieve this state, but when facing a rival of equal strength, the one wielding a divine weapon would hold a slight advantage—an advantage that could very well determine the outcome.

"Good. Let us end today's battle here."

With a backflip, Scáthach withdrew from the battlefield, retracting her offensive stance. "...You can no longer fall unconscious now. Your soul and body have overcome that state. Even I can only kill you—not knock you out."

By constantly pushing his limits, Roy's will had been honed to its extreme. He had lost the capacity for unconsciousness; no matter how grievous his injuries, he would fight on, unlike ordinary people who would black out from severe wounds. If Roy were to lose consciousness again, it would mean his injuries had surpassed his limits—heralding his death.

When not in battle, Scáthach was always as gentle and charming as the girl next door. Roy adored this side of her so much that he no longer resented the brutal strikes she dealt in combat. In fact, he eagerly sought battle with her, if only to witness her tender demeanor afterward.

Roy suspected he had developed Stockholm syndrome.

As the victim, he had begun to feel affection and dependence toward his tormentor, Scáthach.

"Hah... It seems there's less and less I can teach you. Come, Roy, let's talk."

Scáthach put away her spear, tucking a silken lock of hair behind her ear. Like a bashful maiden, she lowered her head slightly and reclined gracefully against the rock beneath her, patting the space beside her in a tender, inviting gesture.

***

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