Unholy Player

Chapter 439: Teaching of the Priest

Adyr took note of the 2 daggers hidden beneath the priest’s robe; no matter how well they were concealed, such things could not escape his senses.

The followers edged closer as well, ready for a fight if a signal was given.

They’re quite friendly, aren’t they? Adyr thought with mild amusement as he answered, "I’m just a traveler trying to see how big the world is."

The priest raised an eyebrow at his reply, weighed his stance for a moment, then asked, "Traveling these lands alone, you must be pretty strong yourself."

There were no visible weapons on Adyr, yet his uniform, a fabric shaped like full-body armor, hugged every defined muscle, giving him the bearing of a fighter. His eyes were calm, but they burned with a brilliance that gave anyone who met them the impression of a seasoned warrior.

"That’s for sure. I’m one of the best fighters of my people," he said honestly, curious to see how they would react.

As he expected, the moment his words landed, gazes sharpened with sudden interest and a flicker of excitement.

"I’ve never seen someone like you here. Which race and kingdom are you from?" The priest asked again, his suspicion easing into a friendly tone.

Even saying that he was a fighter was enough to earn considerable recognition from these people, so their attitude toward him visibly improved.

"Actually, I’m quite new here. I’m from the new city that is currently being built in the east."

"From the new city?" several voices asked at once, the crowd taken aback.

Over the last month, news had traveled quickly, and the fall of the Umbraen kingdom had left a deep mark on every native in the Outer Region.

The rumors all shared one clear point: a new race had appeared, their fighters wearing mighty armor and wielding beast-forged weapons, and they had claimed all Umbraen territory in a single night after a bloody battle. The rumors about their king were particularly strong, as he was said to be equal in power to Lord Silverlight Zephan.

Those who had seen the city up close, such as merchants or people of higher status, returned with talk of strange, unknown technologies, passing stories from ear to ear and stoking curiosity across the Lunari region.

Even more intriguing was the claim that Lord Zephan and their ruler were good friends, making the newly founded kingdom an ally and a friend to Lunari.

"I thought Metalbenders didn’t look like this, that they all had huge, metal-like bodies," one of the Lunari said curiously, her eyes studying Adyr in detail.

Rumors about the new race’s appearance had fixed themselves in many minds, and Adyr looked nothing like what they imagined.

Are they talking about exoskeletons? Adyr mused. They had mistaken the armored suits for the humans’ actual bodies.

He was not surprised that they called them Metalbenders. Everyone used a different name for humans, since the term ’human’ did not yet exist here because Adyr and the Human Council had decided not to reveal their race’s true name until they understood the Beyond better.

"I heard you are all strong, mighty fighters?" The priest raised his voice just enough to gather the room again, cutting through the murmurs.

With the question, an invisible weight settled over the hall. Faces grew serious, not in a threatening way, but with expectation and high spirit.

Understanding their anticipation, Adyr gave a light laugh. "We are indeed." Then he offered what they were eager to hear. "Do you want to exchange a few moves?"

Although Adyr possessed the ability to destroy lands and cities on his own, he did not request a spar with these mortals to demonstrate his superiority or exchange meaningless blows.

His Sword Art of Existence bloodline talent had been stuck at level 2 for too long. The VR rooms no longer provided the insight he needed for advanced swordplay, which is why his dual wielding had not improved for a long time.

With that setback, he decided it was time to get back to basics, and he hoped that these fight-loving people could help him refine his style.

Adyr always saw himself as a jack of all trades and a master of none. So he understood who he was and what he needed to learn. Asking for guidance did not embarrass him, nor did sparring with mortals bother him.

"Oh?" The priest looked pleased as he heard this. His hands slipped beneath his white robe to reveal the hilts of two short blades. "Why don’t we go to the arena for more space?"

—

"Everyone, hurry up! Priest Alvion is about to fight a stranger!"

A young man rushed into a closed training hall, shouting with delight. His voice echoed off the stone walls, causing everyone to turn towards him.

"That crazy priest?"

They didn’t look shocked as a stranger came to their place to fight, but what seemed to surprise them was the name of the one who would face the stranger.

Without hesitation, they all rushed outside after the young man.

The word got around quickly in the area. People who worked nearby who heard it quit their jobs and ran to the arena to see the priest fight, whom they both admired and feared as a warrior.

Soon, curious onlookers filled the expansive sand arena. All eyes were on the two figures in the center, and whispers were in the air.

The newcomers kept asking who the stranger was and why he had come to their home, and when they discovered he was from the newly established kingdom, their excitement grew even stronger.

Adyr ignored the noise and attention directed at him, instead focusing on the opponent in front of him.

The priest, who had seemed old and well-mannered before, now looked completely different. A twisted gleam burned in his silver eyes. The way he held his twin daggers and the way he stood made Adyr think this was no holy man but a killer who enjoyed cutting people apart.

This world is full of psychopaths.

He pushed the funny thought to the side as he asked, "Can I borrow some weapons if possible? I lost mine on the way here."

He actually had his swords, but they were stored inside his Sanctuary. If he summoned them from nowhere, it would reveal his identity as a Practitioner. So he decided to lie.

For a moment, the priest looked disappointed. A fighter losing their weapons was shameful. Still, he turned to the crowd. "Can someone lend him a weapon?"

No one responded. People here kept their blades close even when they slept. It was out of the question to lend one to a stranger.

Adyr, realizing no one intended to give up their weapon, looked around and noticed a farmer holding a sickle. "Can I borrow that?"

The farmer blinked in surprise, realizing he had rushed here with his work tool still in hand. But after a brief hesitation, he tossed the sickle into the arena, where Adyr easily caught it.

"Are you sure you want to use that?" the priest inquired, sounding skeptical, as if his faith in the newcomer was fading.

"No," Adyr replied, weighing the sickle in his hand. "I need one more."

He spotted another spectator, this one holding a small hammer, and asked for it. The man handed it over without a word.

Now, with a sickle in one hand and a hammer in the other, he said calmly, "I’m ready."

He raised both weapons in front of his chest in a defensive position. The hammer sat forward in his hand, with the sickle slightly behind it. His stance was cool and collected; he wasn’t going to rush in. For him, the goal of this battle was to watch and learn, to understand his opponent’s style, not to win.

To the crowd, the stance looked strange. He didn’t look like a fighter at all, but like a partisan who had stepped into the arena to stand for workers and peasants.

If this were Earth, it might have impressed some people, but in the Lunari kingdom, it drew only scornful glances.

"Okay then. Since you are our guest, go ahead and make the first move," the priest said with confidence, even looking excited at the thought of the blood he was about to spill.

Adyr did not refuse. Understanding the custom here, he stepped in and swung his hammer in a testing strike.

"You are fast," the priest said as he leaned back and slipped away from the blow. "But your technique is awful." He spun and drove the short blade in his hand straight toward Adyr’s exposed armpit.

His talent is almost on par with Rhys. Adyr thought as he watched the knife come in, as if it was moving in slow motion.

He didn’t use his high-stat advantage to dodge. He just pushed back as far as a normal body could, staying out of the way of the fatal blow.

The tip of the blade scraped against his uniform, brushing against him just enough to touch him.

"You have excellent clothes," the priest said with a twisted smile, thinking that if not for the STF uniform, there would be a deep cut under Adyr’s arm.

"Yeah, I’m unharmed thanks to that," Adyr replied, keeping his composure as he settled back into his stance, a small smile appearing on his face.