Multiverse's Holy Right

China, Mount Lu—

A waterfall cascaded like a silver river from the heavens, scattering droplets of crystal-clear water. Frogs croaked on the wet stones, and amidst the exotic flowers and plants of this fairyland stood a small wooden hut, reminiscent of Tao Yuanming's idyllic retreat or Li Bai's verses about meeting the Queen Mother of the West.

A twelve- or thirteen-year-old boy in Hanfu soared as if riding the clouds, matching the flight of birds. His toes lightly touched the ground, and with a few leaps, he arrived before the wooden hut.

He paid no attention to the wondrous scenery around him, keeping his eyes downcast and his hands hanging at his sides. With a humble demeanor, he approached within a few dozen meters of the hut, flicked his sleeves, and knelt heavily on the ground, loudly proclaiming.

"...The name of the wise and courageous Holy Cult Leader is as eternal as heaven and earth, as radiant as the sun and moon, indestructible through all ages! Your martial might is boundless, your wisdom and compassion illuminate the world! Your disciple, Lu Yinghua, wishes you literary and martial virtues, reigning for millennia!"

Lu Yinghua recited these shamelessly flattering words without batting an eye, then kowtowed forcefully toward the hut's door, his forehead thudding against the stone tiles.

"Such sycophantic words are no different from those of treacherous courtiers and eunuchs!"

"Ying'er, you are a man! You should aspire to be a true hero! How can you spout such flattery? You disgrace your master!"

A woman's sharp rebuke came from within the hut, her voice like the strum of a zither under moonlight, ethereal and lingering. Just the sound alone evoked endless fantasies, making one believe the speaker must be a celestial maiden from the heavens, untouched by mortal dust.

But contrary to this divine voice, a hurricane-like gust blasted forth, flinging the hut's door wide open. The maiden's breath was like a storm, roaring like dragons and tigers. The kneeling boy had no time to react before the force sent him tumbling head over heels. Only after several somersaults did this highly skilled martial artist manage to steady himself.

Lu Yinghua lowered his head with a bitter smile, having long anticipated this situation.

His master was Luo Hao, the leader of the Holy Cult of the Five Mountains—a peerless warrior who had reached the pinnacle of martial arts and slain Heretic Gods as a Campione.

Campiones were already a group of willful and unrestrained individuals, and Luo Hao was the most exceptional among them. Describing her as capricious would be an understatement.

If one spoke without sufficient reverence, she would deem them disrespectful; yet if one showed too much deference, she would accuse them of sycophancy. Truly, she was impossibly difficult to please.

Lu Yinghua secretly counted himself fortunate to be her disciple. If he angered her, the worst he would face was a brutal beating or some form of punishment. But if it were anyone else, they might find themselves subjected to Luo Hao gouging out their eyes or slicing off their nose.

This was no exaggeration—it was a well-documented fact. The history of the Holy Cult of the Five Mountains recorded multiple instances where those who heard her voice had their ears severed, and those who glimpsed her celestial beauty had their eyes plucked out.

This demonic sect leader, born in the late Qianlong era, embodied the very essence of the title "Demonic Sect" to its extreme.

"Master's teachings are engraved in this disciple's heart!"

Lu Yinghua clasped his fists and bowed deeply.

Only then did he dare to lift his gaze.

From the open wooden door of the mountain retreat emerged a peerless beauty who appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen.

Her flawless face resembled polished jade, radiant as a luminous pearl. Her delicate frame swayed like a bashful mimosa, while her lustrous black hair, finer than silk, was elegantly tied up, giving her the ethereal grace of an immortal maiden. Her skin bore a faint rosy hue, her phoenix eyes shimmered with allure, and her lips were like cherry blossoms.

Luo Hao wore an upper garment embroidered with golden and silver phoenixes in flight, paired with a layered skirt adorned with auspicious clouds and moons. Her steps were light and graceful, as if she were an empress descending upon the world or a celestial maiden ascending Mount Kunlun, treading the void with divine ease.

Yet few in this world could behold such transcendent beauty—for those who glimpsed the sect leader's divine visage would blind themselves, unwilling to let such grace linger in their mortal sight.

Lu Yinghua was among the fortunate few who had seen Luo Hao's true face without losing his eyes, but he hardly considered it a blessing—only a source of endless dread.

"Ying'er, what brings you to Mount Lu to seek your master?"

Luo Hao's tone softened, as though she had once again become the patient and nurturing teacher. Yet the imperious aura on her face remained unchanged.

"Nothing less than a matter of great importance! I have written the details herein and humbly request Master's grace in reviewing its contents."

In Lu Yinghua's hand was a sealed letter.

With a mere gesture from Luo Hao, the letter flew into her jade-like grasp. She unfolded it and skimmed through the contents in an instant, absorbing every detail of the events that had transpired in the island nation of the East.

"Good! That thick-skinned, cunning old wolf has been slain by a new King—Roy Crowley? I shall remember this name!"

Luo Hao's words startled Lu Yinghua. Even among Campiones, she had only ever acknowledged the names of Marquis Voban and Lady Aisha. As for the newer generation of Campiones, she disdained even learning their names—such was her narcissism.

Yet now, she had actually committed the new King's name to memory. This was not a good sign!

"Master... y-you wouldn't be planning to seek out this new King for a duel, would you?"

Lu Yinghua ventured cautiously.

"Although that foreign king defeated my old rival, I am the undisputed number one in the world. Why would I trouble myself to traverse mountains and rivers for such a trivial matter? Perhaps I might visit on a whim someday, but for now, Eagle, you may withdraw!"

The arrogance in Luo Hao's tone knew no bounds, like a phoenix descending with its head held high. Yet her pride didn't feel offensive—it seemed natural, as if without this arrogance and narcissism, she wouldn't be Luo Hao at all.

Lu Yinghua silently cursed himself. Indeed, while this event was incomparably significant for the global mystic world, in his master's eyes, it was merely trivial. Expecting her to personally intervene for such a minor matter was absolutely impossible.

"Yes, disciple dares not disturb Master further. I shall take my leave!"

Lu Yinghua bowed deeply once more and quickly departed.

Even he felt immense pressure in the presence of this master.

...

On the plane to Jerusalem, Roy was scribbling notes at his desk, internalizing the knowledge he'd acquired from Erica.

Finishing the last symbol, he took a sip of coffee and smiled nostalgically.

He could still recall the sensation of Erica's gentle, tight embrace when she'd served him earlier. Erica was only fourteen—barely past the age of criminal liability under certain ancient nations' laws.

He still felt somewhat awkward and guilty. Having spent his first twenty-plus years in China as a law-abiding young man with well-formed values, followed by fifteen ascetic years in the Toaru where he'd scarcely seen any women beyond his sister Laura and the local Anglican nuns, he remained a red-blooded young man with purely human desires. While naturally drawn to beautiful girls, using power and authority to coerce them left him uneasy, far from the effortless nonchalance of Aleister Crowley.

"I still need more experience," Roy sighed inwardly.

He recalled how, at the end, while bestowing his Holy Sword upon Erica, he'd also imbued it with his authority—healing her body when she swallowed it. Among all Campiones throughout history, he was probably the only one who'd ever used divine authority this way.

The thought amused him.

Then he raised his right hand and addressed Aiwass behind him: "...I think there's something new in my right hand."

***

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