Chapter 004: Soul-Transcending Blade of the Defiant God

At the break of dawn, the ancient garden seemed to linger in the aftertaste of last night’s silent yearnings. Wisps of soft, drowsy clouds stretched lazily across the sky. The tender green grass, weighed down by sleepiness, could not quite stand upright. The washed blue heavens revealed a gentle, doting expression, opening their boundless embrace to all things. All around the garden, tranquility and warmth suffused the early morning air, creating a delicate and beautiful atmosphere.

Ed gently opened the door of his home, stepping out with practiced ease, heading straight for Mingyu Lake. In his arms he carried a thick, hardbound tome retrieved from the library.

Since that incident, Priscilla had strictly forbidden Ed from staying in the library alone. Whenever he needed to consult ancient texts, his mother would always make time to accompany him personally, no matter how busy she was. After helping him gather and organize all the necessary materials, she would always give a special reminder: only begin your reading once you’ve brought the books out of the ancient library.

Thus, the lakeside of Mingyu Lake, which encircled the island of the garden, became the boy’s new pure land for quiet study.

Splinters of morning light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, spilling wantonly and chaotically onto the pages. A fair, delicate hand guided its master’s gaze across the lines of text. In Ed’s crystalline violet eyes, a long-absent vision quietly emerged: archaic runes wove together unknown incantations, multiple spells sketched out mysterious patterns, and vivid elemental totems sang in chorus within the intricate formation of his pupils—a sacred chant in a beautiful language Ed had never heard before. Yet it felt as intimate and familiar as his mother tongue, needing no conscious effort to understand; the truth within surfaced of its own accord, flowing into his heart—those mysterious whispers, gentle as the wind, decoded the thousand-page magical masterpiece in his hands with the most profound and succinct language. Any question, no matter how complex, was resolved in an instant.

Meanwhile, a resplendent mark silently appeared between Ed’s brows—a nimble yet weighty holy silver “Heartlock,” which spun slowly of its own accord. Easily suppressing the restless tides of memory beneath the surface, it then receded, vanishing once more.

Under a flourishing ancient tree near Mingyu Lake, the white-robed youth closed his book and his eyes, leaning gently against the sturdy trunk by the lakeside. Sitting quietly in the shade, his expression serene, he seemed lost in thought—or perhaps in peaceful slumber.

Time flowed on, as inexorable as immortal golden sands slipping through his fingers, beyond the grasp of any hand. Brighter daylight touched the youth’s eyelids. Ed’s lashes trembled; he opened his clear eyes, now free of visions, and gently stroked the ancient book of magic lying on his knees, breathing a long sigh of relief. “Principles of Mana Manifestation, the one-thousand-and-first original magical text, shorthand completed. Next, it’s time for practice.”

He set aside the tome, took a deep breath, rose from the ground, and composed his mind and body in tranquil focus.

A thousand pages of the arcane codex unfurled in his mind, every detail vivid. The immense explanations on mana manifestation surfaced in his heart, orderly and clear. Mana manifestation was the most fundamental of magical applications, renowned both in ancient times and the present, revered and employed by countless magisters throughout history—like the Belkan-style armor and the Mid-style protective gear—all constructed with this theory. The essence of the technique was to use unique formulas, precise mana control, and, most crucially, extraordinary computational ability to forcibly refine chaotic, unordered energy into a relatively stable, quasi-material form.

So long as mana was unexhausted, the armament endured. The practical value of this technique was self-evident. Although the strength of the construct varied by individual, the method and theory were virtually flawless.

Even though mana manifestation was a basic application, without a reliable, advanced intelligent magical device to handle massive data analysis and advanced formula calculations, it was nearly impossible for an average caster to master this art through sheer mental effort. Merely constructing complex formulas and restraining rampant mana flows already left most magisters below A-rank exhausted and overwhelmed. On a perilous battlefield, the immense psychological pressure made it all the harder to maintain composure and quality in constructing spells, let alone to spare any mental energy for high-speed computation and analysis.

Yet such daunting challenges were nothing to Ed, who had fully unraveled the secrets of Mana Manifestation and, in less than thirty days, could swiftly memorize a thousand-page tome. Only his latent A-rank (and outwardly B-rank) mana capacity might present some minor, familiar difficulties.

He listened intently to the whispers of the mana spirits, his core of will running at full power. The original text replayed in his mind, pages turning in a cascade, formulas and vast data computed in a heartbeat. The elaborate formations extended from his palms, fingers tracing their paths, shadows of flowers blooming and spinning in a drone-like hum. Continuous streams of indigo-violet mana, drawn by the delicate threads of his will, quickly poured into his palms along the lines of the formation. The immense mana, forcibly contained within the domain of his palm, writhed like a caged beast. Ed united body and mind, fingers curving; the already-compact formation contracted further, becoming even more miniature, and under his meticulous control, the torrent of mana thickened into a substance like liquid mercury, poised between solid and liquid.

Holding his breath, Ed focused on his intended shape—the blade and sword’s demonic light cut through confusion, crimson sacred flames incinerated the desolate bones of twilight plains—the violet mana in his palm was tempered by a sudden surge of blood-red flames, forging the rough embryo of a sword and blade.

With his left hand gripping the blade and right hand holding the sword, Ed moved with the wind, the weapons spinning in a dance. Rushing battle energy and mana flowed between body and arms, the weapons becoming extensions of himself. Each move, each strike—slash or thrust—was as fluid and precise as thought, seamless in execution.

Within the flashing of blades and swords, blood-stained runes flickered, a matchless secret art blending magical theory and martial mastery—battle instinct imprinted in Ed’s body and soul.

Though the true form of the weapons was still indistinct, even the faint killing intent drifting like mist in the wind seemed enough to freeze the heavens and earth.

Blade and sword radiated lethal force, his mastery shining like a mirror in the heart of battle.

Clad in white, the youth as dazzling as fresh snow, wielded his blood-bound blade and sword, his body moving as one with the weapons, scattering the mundane world with each swing. The wind swept through the whirling arms, and before him, fair faces bloomed in radiant competition.

Unconsciously, Ed became immersed in a world of blade and sword, speed and strength, law and technique.

Once again, after the last incident in the library, Ed’s body and mind entered a state of awakening. But this time, it was subtly different. If the previous awakening had been triggered by accident, an involuntary plunge into power, this time it was the culmination of steady progress, a conscious choice—complete mastery, as natural as water flowing downhill.

Amber wings unfurled against the wind, starry blue eyes illuminated the world, the sea of elements nourished his body and soul, and the scarlet demonic flames tempered his weapons. A deepening spiritual awakening progressed in steady, orderly fashion.

The forms of blade and sword merged into his palms. Ed’s tranquil face rested on his knees, arms wrapped around them, while his consciousness drifted into the primordial sea of memory, yearning to glimpse the past.

The Heartlock formed holy silver armor around his awareness, guarding his spiritual projection with tireless devotion. He felt a sense of reassurance, gently caressing the protective scales on his chest, which still seemed to retain the lingering warmth of a farewell kiss from the maiden of his dreams.

Ed’s heart brimmed with warmth, his movements grew more resolute. Without hesitation, he plunged deeper into the ocean of memories.

Though the sea of remembrance seemed endless, the expected sense of suffocation never came. Ed’s awareness gradually cleared; around him swirled a mist of memories—tangible yet ever elusive. The Heartlock armor shimmered with a faint, firefly glow, drawing fragments of thought together like broken jade, and faint chimes echoed in his mind.

A speck of resplendent memory fell into his brow with a crystalline sound. Before Ed could savor its emotional flavors, everything went black. His consciousness, swept up by the Heartlock’s armor, was torn from the secret realm of memory.

Ed’s awareness returned to his body. His eyes regained focus—the blue sky, green earth, ancient trees, new clouds—all the world came into view. Yet the youth’s spirit seemed worlds apart, his expression tinged with longing. Though his heart sighed with countless emotions, there were no words sufficient to express his solitude.

This awakening accelerated his transformation, enhancing both body and mind in all respects. His core of will was greatly strengthened and developed; his overt magical power finally reached A-rank, while his latent power remained immeasurable.

Beyond that, he had gained initial mastery of a promising new combat technique, equally suited to attack and defense. Most important of all, he had reclaimed a fragment of his past. Though what he learned of his origins was scant, Ed found reassurance that his efforts were not in vain—his days of hard work had not been wasted. Most crucially, this piece of the past touched on the very mystery of his “transcendence” that he so desperately needed to understand.