Forsaken Priest of the Hero's Party-Chapter 87: Transmission, Slicing the Sunset

No matter how strong someone might be, everyone has limits. No individual can overcome thousands of soldiers using sheer strength alone.

There’s only so much a person can do with their power. Once that power is spent, they become vulnerable. This is the essence of being considered third-rate.

“Everyone starts as third-rate. The first step is learning to understand yourself.”

Focusing solely on building your strength was a third-rate approach. Anyone who hasn’t reached expert level was deemed third-rate.

People saw “third-rate” as bad, but it was necessary.

“Only by establishing a strong foundation can you truly connect with the world. Third-rate is about knowing yourself; second-rate is about understanding the world. No matter how powerful you become, you can never overcome nature.”

“The goal isn’t just to make yourself stronger. Once you have it, you must learn how to harness the power of the world.”

Concentrating solely on personal strength leaves you confined to third-rate status.

Second-rate is about connecting with the world and utilizing its power. Heron grasped the sword and swung it with a gentle, deliberate motion. His swing was so slight that it resembled a butcher’s minimal slice. The sword moved with the sluggishness of a worm.

“Watch closely. This is how you use the world’s energy. You don’t need to waste your strength when there’s power in the air itself.”

Just as Roka believed she could block the strike, the sword accelerated. Mana from all directions swirled around it, causing the sword to vibrate and hum with magical energy.

Although Heron expended just 10% of his strength, he channeled 90% of external power, creating an unstoppable force. Now magnified tenfold, the sword strike raced toward Roka’s neck with alarming speed.

In a real battle, that single distraction could have cost Roka her life. Her expression became serious, and even her tail stiffened with tension.

Yet, a spark of excitement shone in her eyes. No one had ever explained things quite like this before.

“Tell me more.”

“The concept of heaven and earth, nature, or the universe is also known as the “second-rate” realm. This is where you not only manage your own power but also draw upon and regulate external energy. It demands effort, there are no shortcuts.”

“At first, you use 100% of your power. But second-rate, you use 50% of your power and draw the other 50% from the world. After all, the world is vast, and we are but small beings.”

It’s not fair for both sides to use equal amounts of mana. If you don’t like that, train harder. Increase the amount of mana you can draw from the world. Use 10% of your effort to draw 90% of the world’s power.

Furthermore, with such mastery, you could summon enough power to shift mountain ranges with merely a flick of your finger.

“It’s like a butterfly’s wing flap that triggers a typhoon. The pinnacle of second-rate skill is using a slight force to invoke immense power. You’d be surprised at what you can achieve with the strength to lift even a feather.”

Any master can use external mana to recover their own. But that is just the start of second-rate mastery.

True second-rate power can make the heavens tremble and the earth shudder with only a touch of mana. Roka, however, has yet to reach that level.

“Then what does first-rate do?”

“Every disciple must, in time, surpass their master.”

The Swordsman Without a Master responded with a subtle smile.

Would Roka ever attain first-rate power? Who can say?

He was planting a seed without any complications. What would grow from it depended on how Roka nurtured it. It might grow into something small like a cucumber or watermelon, or something grand like the World Tree.

“I learned the sword from nature. Though they call me the Swordsman Without a Master, my master was the world itself. If every disciple must one day surpass their master, then what was I meant to surpass?”

“First-rate power means keeping your heart calm regardless of your surroundings. Whether mana is abundant or scarce, or even if the world around you crumbles, you remain unshaken.”

“Second-rate has limits. They rely on the presence of mana; when it’s scarce, you cannot unleash your full potential. That’s why second-rate isn’t the pinnacle.”

“First-rate is about inner balance. Once you achieve that, you remain steady even when everything else is in disarray. That’s all you need to understand for now. Any more would just complicate things.”

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Heron offered a faint smile as he noticed Roka’s confusion, a natural reaction. If understanding were that simple, training wouldn’t even be necessary.

For someone at third-rate, even comprehending second-rate concepts is challenging. So how could Roka, in her current state, grasp first-rate ideas? To her, his words felt like empty rhetoric.

Everything comes in its own time. At this moment, Roka wasn’t ready for such profound ideas, it’s like explaining the life of a butterfly to a caterpillar that hasn’t even begun its chrysalis.

Just as children need guidance until they’re ready to stand on their own, a third-rate individual chasing first-rate philosophy is like a child rushing out the door before truly growing up.

It wasn’t too late for Roka to walk this path once she had grown and was truly ready.

“It might have been better if we’d met when you were a bit more developed, but this meeting is fate as well.”

If Roka understood second-rate, she’d find first-rate absurd. It would sound like a drunk con artist’s ramblings. They’d be words meant to seem profound, but they would be hollow.

The key difference is that a con artist takes from you, whereas Heron offers something of true value.

The sword in Heron’s hand melted away, transforming into a smooth, round metal plate.

“I would’ve given you the sword whole, but a dao suits you better.”

Roka’s eyes widened, and she instinctively reached for the metal plate as it began to meld with her, much to her surprise.

Growing cautious, Roka watched the transformation, while Heron closed his eyes, as if he had completed his purpose.

“Someone made that sword from the heart, and I melted it back into its original state. Someday, when you truly understand your heart, you might be able to create your own dao.”

Heron, known for his kindness, turned to leave as if he had no more to give.

“Wait, just a moment!”

“Hmm?”

“You talked so much, yet taught me so little. Please, teach me more before you leave...”

“Little one, at this moment, what matters most is building your foundation, not chasing enlightenment.”

In truth, he hadn’t taught her much; he’d merely left behind the matrix of knowledge. They had met too early.

Enlightenment wouldn’t help someone at the third-rate level. Without the time or capacity to devote, he could do little more. Like a chick inside an egg that needn’t worry about flying until it’s strong enough to break free, she must first grow her foundation.

So, he only laid out a plan for the future. The Swordsman Without a Master focused on the basics, which relied on effort and will.

“When you build your strength and attain the second-rate level, the secrets within the matrix will aid you. For now, there’s nothing more I can do.”

“Teach me something useful. Something I can use immediately, something that helps me now.”

Roka’s heart felt empty, as everything necessary was gone.

There remained only one thing worth protecting, even at the cost of everything. If she couldn’t protect that person, there would be no reason for her to keep going.

“You need power to protect someone. Is your enemy really that strong?”

Roka nodded. She had witnessed the disapproval in Third Prince Edmund’s eyes and sensed a subtle, lethal intent hidden behind his calm gaze.

Though her enemy bore the title of prince, she knew she needed even greater power to shield the one she loved.

The Swordsman Without a Master understood the fierce determination that fueled her fight.

“You’re in a dangerous place now. This is the nature of chasing power, you may have a purpose, but the allure of strength is more addictive than any drug.”

Many who wield a sword in defense of others end up chasing power for its own sake. Some even drive away those they cherish in a desperate bid to grow stronger.

The focus shifted. It’s like chasing money to find happiness, only to lose happiness for more money.

The Swordsman Without a Master offered his counsel, hoping to light Roka’s path.

“If you allow an obsession with power to take hold, you’ll lose sight of what truly matters. Power, mana, it’s just a tool for understanding yourself.”

“Ultimately, you’ll come to see that everything you believed was yours was, in fact, only borrowed.”

Mana is a tool, not an end in itself. It’s like a raft that ferries you to shore, once you land, the raft loses its purpose.

Once you stand on solid ground, the raft will seem superfluous. His tone turned serious.

“Child, since you need power, I’ll teach you one technique before I leave. But promise me this: do not become obsessed with the technique, and do not pursue its power alone.”

“Is that... bad?”

The tribe’s elders always wanted Roka to be stronger, and she lost her clan because she failed to meet their expectations. It felt odd, then, for someone to advise her against chasing power.

Why is it that he, so strong himself, is telling me not to do the same?

“It isn’t wrong.”

The Swordsman Without a Master smiled.

“Sometimes, the path you believe is right isn’t, and what you consider wrong might be the true way. The irony is, if you focus solely on becoming stronger, you never will. Do you really think I acquired my strength by chasing power?”

Mana is the foundation of the universe. To study mana is to examine the universe itself.

Everyone who uses mana, consciously or not, is exploring their own version of truth. This truth has always been, and always will be, shrouded in secrets. The more you encounter it, the more you grow.

Yet many fail to see these shifts as opportunities, training only to become stronger without ever delving into the fundamentals. The Swordsman Without a Master always regretted this. He wasn’t a sword demon who swung his sword just to gain power.

“If you walk the right path, strength will follow naturally. It’s a byproduct of training, not the ultimate goal.”

“Someday, when you reach my level, you’ll understand exactly what I mean.”

Will Roka understand that power arises effortlessly when you elevate yourself? Even if she understands, that day will come much later.

If she needs strength immediately, then theory alone won’t suffice.

“Are you saying that day is far off? You want something you can use now, don’t you? I understand. I wasn’t always strong either.”

This compassionate teacher recognized Roka’s desperation and did not turn her away.

“Since you have the sun’s magic, I’ll teach you a technique I learned from watching it.”

Master Heron developed it by watching the sunset, a technique born from the sunset’s colors and the idea of extinction. Roka likely couldn’t imitate it accurately now, but that should be enough.

“I don’t know who your enemy is, but...”

Flash!

In that instant, Roka’s vision was bathed in the hues of the sunset.

Beyond the sunset, a towering figure emerged, radiating seven dazzling lights. A giant of light stood before them, a presence that one could only describe as a god. The god let out a deafening scream, its vibrant power surging to contest the sunset, yet Heron strode toward it, sword in hand, completely unfazed.

Whoosh!

He swung his sword. The motion was slow enough for Roka to follow with her eyes. Wherever the blade passed, the surrounding magic dissolved, supplanted by the deep, rich colors of the sunset.

It was the most beautiful display of destruction: any force caught along that line had no chance, as it was completely erased. The sunset itself heralded twilight with every strike.

The god’s scream fell silent as Heron’s sword traced its arc. The blade, imbued with the power of the setting sun, cleaved the god of light in two. The waning brilliance of the sunset entirely consumed its form, split asunder.

“If you can even mimic this Sunset Slash, you’ll at least be able to buy enough time to escape.”

Roka’s eyes widened and her ears pricked up as she absorbed every detail. The scene replayed in her mind on an endless loop, the image of the sunset etching itself deeply into her memory.

But an undeniable truth lingered. The gap between her and Heron was huge. It felt like an impenetrable wall; no matter how often she witnessed it, parts of the technique remained shrouded in mystery, forever out of reach.

Roka was convinced that even a fraction of this power would make her stronger. Yet, despite her constant observation, she couldn’t grasp its essence. True understanding seemed impossible.

Still, she concentrated, determined to etch every detail of the scene into her memory.

As Roka clung to the memory, the afterimage of the sunset began to imprint itself on her mind. The Swordsman Without a Master, both firm and kind, had seared the sunset’s essence into her heart.

Someday, I hope you can create your own techniques.

The sunset, a symbol of endings, was like dawn. It heralded new beginnings. Like two sides of the same coin, the sunset’s warmth felt to Roka like the dawn’s light breaking through the cold. She etched that warmth deep into her heart and gave silent thanks for the moment.

But when she turned to look back, the man had vanished, as if she had awakened from a dream.

Only the clarity of her refreshed mind assured her that it had all been real.