Chapter 10 - Sacred Combat Arts - 2

Imbuing divine energy with divine powers.

The explanation was difficult to grasp from words alone. When Bera’s brow creased slightly, Trebo chuckled and elaborated.

“Well, to put it simply... it works like this. Are you familiar with enchantment magic?”

“... Yes.”

Enchantment. Magic that gave objects special properties through magical treatment.

Bera was familiar with it, since most of the equipment he had used in his previous life had been enchanted.

“Sacred combat arts that use a sacred mark work much the same way. Hmm, let us take the twins out there as an example.”

The blue tattoos etched across Trebo’s skin faded. Having withdrawn his divine energy, he leaned forward and continued.

“The sacred mark of protection inscribed upon the twins holds a divine power called ‘Indomitability.’ It grants them the strength to rise again even if their entire bodies are crushed, so long as their spirits remain unbroken.”

Bera nodded at Trebo’s words. He knew that divine power well, too.

How could he not? In his previous life, he had heard endlessly about what the twins had accomplished with it.

“If the twins simply use their divine power on its own, its effects are limited to their bodies. In other words, it restores only their bodies, so if they run out of something else, such as divine energy, they become little more than meat shields.”

Trebo paused briefly to steady his breathing, then continued.

“However, things change when they use sacred combat arts to blend that power into their divine energy. Doing so imbues their divine energy with the restorative property of ‘Indomitability.’”

Only then did Bera understand what Trebo was trying to say.

“... Does that mean their spent divine energy replenishes itself?”

“Excellent.”

A broad smile spread across Trebo’s face.

“While the twins use divine energy imbued with ‘Indomitability,’ they can fight with an endless supply of divine energy for as long as their mental fortitude allows.”

Bera’s lips parted slightly at the explanation. At last, something was beginning to make real sense.

‘... Now I see how they held out against that.’

How the two of them alone had stopped the Demon King’s armies from invading the Holy Empire in his previous life—that mystery was solved.

Moreover, the potential of sacred combat arts had become much clearer. Bera felt his heart begin to beat faster.

The drive to improve.

It came from the prospect of acquiring far greater strength than he had possessed through his haphazard use of divine energy in his previous life.

“How do I blend it in?”

Excitement naturally colored his voice.

Trebo chuckled at the most animated he had ever seen Bera and answered.

“It is easy. You need only think that you will do so.”

An answer that could sound thoroughly deflating. Yet Bera knew it was by no means an easy task.

“... Could you explain in a little more detail?”

“Hmm...”

A thoughtful look crossed Trebo’s face. He pondered something for a moment, then nodded and continued.

“When you bring forth your divine energy, focus on the energy flowing around your sacred mark and think, ‘Blend it in.’ The process itself should not be particularly difficult.”

At that explanation, Bera began to roll up his sleeve, but Trebo stopped him.

“Ah, not here. Please try it later. We cannot afford to make a mess of this place.”

Bera nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then asked another question.

“Then do I incorporate that imbued divine energy into existing sacred combat arts?”

“No. You must develop your own sacred combat arts, Bera.”

“... Pardon?”

“The divine powers of the oath are powers that no one but you can use, are they not? What would happen if you applied them to ordinary sacred combat arts?”

Bera closed his mouth at Trebo’s question.

Adding the divine powers of the oath to combat arts that strengthened the body.

The first thing that came to mind was redistributing his physical abilities, but that would be no different from how he had used them so far.

He thought it over for a long while. Eventually, he concluded that the divine powers of the oath were not the sort of powers he could blend into combat arts, and his lips moved.

“... It would be like wearing clothes that do not fit.”

“Precisely. Each divine power has a method of use suited to it. I would like to give you the records of the previous apostles, at least... but unfortunately, the Holy Empire’s policy prevents me from doing so.”

Bera let out a hollow laugh at Trebo’s answer.

Had he taken this too lightly? The process was more complicated than he had expected.

He frowned, his head throbbing with the questions that arose.

Seeing his reaction, Trebo opened his hand and brought forth divine energy above it as he posed another question.

“What does this look like to you, Bera? Combat arts? Or spellcraft?”

Bera looked toward Trebo’s fingertips.

“... It just looks like raw divine energy.”

“Yes, exactly. This is simply divine energy. Whether we call it combat arts or spellcraft, the only real difference is how we use it. Inscribe it upon the body to use it, and it is combat arts. Inscribe it upon an object to use it, and it is spellcraft. You came here because His Holiness spoke to you about form, correct?”

“Yes.”

“By form, His Holiness likely means that you should use divine energy efficiently.”

Trebo briefly cleared his throat, then asked Bera another question.

“You do not yet know how to arrange divine energy, do you?”

Bera nodded.

Having used divine powers for an entire lifetime, he felt ashamed to admit it, but he could not dispute those words.

In his previous life, rather than arranging his divine energy, he had amplified what he possessed to increase his raw power.

Trebo nodded back and continued.

“It need not be combat arts. The form His Holiness speaks of is the arrangement of divine energy itself. If you shape divine energy imbued with divine powers into something usable, whatever the method, that becomes its form. As long as that form falls within the realm of sacred arts, it may be combat arts or spellcraft.”

This explanation was somewhat easier to understand than the last. Trebo went on to ask another question.

“You probably also heard him speak of intent. Am I right?”

“... Yes.”

“Intent is much the same. Ultimately, intent is the theme of the combat arts you will develop. It means you must be clear about their purpose. What are these sacred arts for? That is what you must keep in mind.”

Trebo smiled and added to his explanation.

“I hear you practice swordsmanship, so you may feel drawn toward combat arts, but there is no need to fixate on that path.”

His lengthy explanation finished, Trebo straightened from his forward lean. Watching him, Bera felt surprise welling up inside.

‘I thought he was nothing but a lunatic...’

He could actually speak far more sensibly than Bera had expected. No, when it came to explaining things coherently, he was far better than the Holy Emperor.

Thinking that Trebo might not be as much of a fucking idiot as he looked, Bera bowed his head in thanks.

“Thank you for all your help.”

“Of course. Ah, could you wait a moment?”

“Pardon?”

At Bera’s puzzled response, Trebo stood and went to a corner of the room. He took several books from a shelf and held them out to Bera.

“These should serve as useful references when you develop your sacred combat arts. This is a manual of existing combat arts, and this one is an analysis of spellcraft arrays. Reading through them should help.”

Bera nodded and took the books.

“Thank you again. When should I return these?”

“Whenever it is convenient for you.”

The answer came with a kindly smile. Bera nodded and was beginning to prepare to leave when Trebo added a condition.

“In return...”

Bera turned his gaze toward him. Trebo looked oddly excited as he stared at Bera’s right forearm, where his sacred mark lay.

“Could you show me your sacred mark, just once?”

A shiver ran over him. At those words, Bera felt goosebumps rise all over his body.

He glared at Trebo with eyes full of disgust, then backed away hesitantly and left the room with only a few words.

“Some other time.”

THUD.

Bera kicked the door hard and walked down the corridor without looking back.

‘Might be normal, my ass.’

The man was clearly a lunatic.

As he had thought, no matter how he looked at it, the Holy Empire was bad for him.

* * *

Two sturdily built holy knights greeted Bera upon his return to the cabin.

‘The twins?’

Krek and Marek stood before its door.

Bera tried to work out why they were there, but when no answer came to him, he approached, making his presence known.

RUSTLE.

At the sound of grass being trodden underfoot, the twins turned toward him simultaneously.

As soon as they spotted Bera, both bowed in exactly the same posture and greeted him.

“Good to see you. We came to repair things.”

“So did I.”

They spoke with rigid expressions. Bera furrowed his brow and asked,

“Shouldn’t you two be guarding the gate?”

“His Holiness told us. We can be flexible.”

“His Holiness said to help.”

So the Holy Emperor had sent them.

‘What is he up to?’

The old man was so inscrutable that Bera found himself searching for a reason behind his every action.

‘Surveillance?’

The possibility occurred to him as he pondered, and he looked at the twins. They had raised their heads and were now staring blankly at him.

‘... Yeah, right.’

There was no way anyone would entrust surveillance to idiots like these. If the old man really had, he must have dementia.

‘If it isn’t surveillance, I can’t think of any other reason...’

While Bera was still racking his brains over why they were here, the twins spoke again.

“So, do we repair things? Which things?”

“I’m good at hammering nails.”

Their words scattered Bera’s thoughts, and he looked at them again.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I had something on my mind.”

“Thinking is good. But difficult.”

“I don’t like thinking.”

Bera pressed his lips tightly together.

For every remark he made, two came back, and their maddening replies made him reluctant to open his mouth.

Yet the thought that these morons might stay here all day if he remained silent made him speak again with a slight frown.

“... For now, I think the door and some of the furniture need repairing.”

“I’ll do the furniture. I’m more meticulous than Marek.”

“I’ll fix the door. I’m good at hammering nails.”

Having answered, the twins headed toward the cabin.

Watching the two figures stomp away, Bera felt inexplicably furious.

A possibility crept into his mind: perhaps the Holy Emperor had sent them simply to mess with him.