The Saint King (Holy King) 6

+++

Upon hearing Doyun’s second reply, the Saint King fell silent for an extended period, striving to comprehend its profound implications.

Renowned as the ‘Wisest King’, his keen mind swiftly contemplated myriad hypotheses to reconcile this revelatory claim.

And among them, one single possibility emerged that seamlessly accounted for all prevailing discrepancies.

‘…No.’

Yet the Saint King immediately dismissed that outrageous notion.

The resurrection of the dead? An utter impossibility – an inconceivable eventuality, or so he initially thought.

However, he then recalled witnessing the Hecreaux style’s quintessential apex Doyun had manifested earlier:

‘…’

While absolutely inconceivable, only that single hypothesis could potentially explain such an incomprehensible phenomenon as that sublime fist strike.

Opening and closing his mouth repeatedly several times, the Saint King finally managed to voice his disbelief aloud:

“…My innate ability.”

His tremulous tone betrayed the staggering epiphany looming imminent.

“Allows me to perceive another’s status window with their consent.”

Doyun immediately realized he likely referred to the [King’s Road] trait granting such capacities.

The ability to view status windows represented an exceedingly rare skill – not on the level of Doyun’s own [Primal Guildmaster], yet still among the highest tiers bestowed upon preeminent leaders.

“May I have your permission to view your status?”

“By all means.”

Nodding his assent, Doyun no longer felt any need for further obfuscation or concealment.

Glimpsing his status would reveal everything to the Saint King, enabling him to arrive at the same profound realization himself.

A keen sagacity glimmered within the Saint King’s eyes as his gaze soon drifted away from Doyun towards the empty air beside him.

Scrutinizing that seemingly vacant space with intense focus, he initially reacted with piqued intrigue during the earlier portions.

Yet as his eyes progressed down towards the middle sections:

“…!!”

Sheer aghast horror overtook his features as those widened eyes appeared ready to burst from their sockets.

Briefly losing his customary composure amid that cataclysmic revelation, the Saint King clasped a trembling palm over his gaping mouth to stifle his disbelieving astonishment.

Soon after, he resumed perusing Doyun’s status – yet upon nearing the bottom sections, he released another muffled gasp with pupils dilating slightly:

“S-Rank…”

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, the Saint King leaned back heavily against his throne’s backrest.

“…”

A few tense moments passed before the Saint King reopened his eyes, rising from that regal seat to descend from the raised dais where it stood.

Now towering over Doyun at his full 3m stature, the Saint King took several deep steadying breaths before addressing him in an utterly transformed demeanor:

“My late master Hwangbo Jun hailed from another planar realm entirely – an extradimensional sojourner.”

His diction had shifted completely, the king now addressing Doyun with humble deference.

“From him, I learned the etiquette befitting his homeland’s customs.”

He retreated two paces backwards with soft, unhurried steps – a stark contrast to his prior forceful strides.

“I, Francis Albert Victor Nicholas Mountbatten, inheritor of the Hecreaux style and this era’s Warrior (Războinic)…”

Despite his royal standing, he addressed Doyun with boundless humility befitting one greeting a paramount superior – every reverent inflection imbued with profound sincerity and awe.

“…Offer deepest obeisances before the Grand Progenitor Enoch Razvolnic himself!”

Thump!

The Saint King’s forehead met the floor as his towering frame prostrated itself fully in a ceremonial kowtow – the ‘Bowing of Nine Salutations’ reserved between master and disciple.

Reputedly never having bowed before any save his own teacher Hwangbo Jun, this man dubbed history’s ‘Wisest King’ remained utterly motionless in that prostrated stance.

His boundless reverence towards that paramount figure radiated tangibly throughout the hushed chamber.

The ‘Saint King’ – so revered as the wisest sovereign in posterity.

Yet his second knee had just bent before the Paladin Enoch Razvolnic himself.

+++

“In his homeland, my master was hailed as a Conqueror (Overlord) known as the ‘Celestial Fiend’.”

The Saint King continued his explanation while standing before Doyun respectfully.

No longer seated upon that regal throne, he maintained the utmost decorum in Doyun’s presence.

“The Hecreaux style bore similarities with my master’s own Celestial Demon Arts – that same overbearing, indominable aura coupled with overwhelming force. Hence he could accept those techniques while refining them to mitigate their backlash and temper their potencies.”

“Hecreaux fought for the Alliance’s cause.”

Though ultimately walking that path alongside his comrade Enoch rather than the Alliance itself, he had nonetheless battled for their united frontier nonetheless.

Even after Enoch’s demise, had he not confronted the Demon Lord alone to thwart that cataclysmic scheme, sacrificing his life to preserve Enoch’s own lingering legacy of world salvation?

Regardless of any denials, Hecreaux had represented a true hero championing the Alliance’s greater good.

“Yet you addressed me as the ‘Grand Progenitor’ – implying you revere Hecreaux as the founding patriarch. So why have you disregarded his will by refusing to disseminate his name and martial arts widely instead?”

The Saint King replied gravely:

“Much of those wall inscriptions had suffered severe degradation over time. While I surmised they originated from the Sword Lord himself based on their immaculate mastery alone, without absolute certainty I dared not presume using his venerated name so brazenly out of deepest respect – lest I profane his honor through false claims of inheritance.”

“Those inscriptions had become degraded, you said?”

“Indeed. My master too had attempted supplementing those defaced areas through his own insights. Yet as an innately intuitive, unorthodox art flowing from sheer instinctual comprehension rather than formalized practices or foundations, only he could achieve such restorative feats.”

“…He managed reconstructing them despite the damage?”

“Of course, the resulting martial art became incomplete as a consequence. Yet I remained utterly astonished it still rated an ‘A’ Competence – never could I have fathomed any S-Rank martial arts even existed in this world…”

So that explained the convoluted circumstances surrounding the inherited transmission of Hecreaux’s esoteric techniques.

‘…This Hwangbo Jun must have represented a truly formidable genius in his own right.’

For one hailed as a ‘Celestial Fiend’, that grandiose title seemed no mere appellation after all.

The systems and planar gateways had clearly elevated the Alliance’s overall martial might to unprecedented new heights, it seemed.

‘Which begs regarding that other boss monster hunter Salomandre…’

The enigmatic ‘Faerie’ entity he had once commanded – just how profound a talent must he have represented as well?

“But where are Hecreaux’s remains then?”

“Having occurred on an active battlefield, my master said they lacked any opportunity to properly retrieve them at the time. By the time they eventually revisited that locale… the entire cavern had been vaporized by bombardments, with no traces remaining whatsoever.”

“…I see.”

Even through Doyun’s seemingly impassive gaze, the Saint King sensed that profoundly wearied undercurrent of lingering grief.

An epiphany affirming this figure’s identity as the authentic Enoch resonated through him once more.

“Saint King – I hereby make this demand of you.”

As the Grand Progenitor of their martial lineage as well as the Paladin Enoch Razvolnic himself – qualifiers that preceded any man of his legendary stature.

“Uphold the Founding Patriarch Hecreaux’s will. Fight for the Alliance’s cause in this coming war.”

Meeting Doyun’s unwavering gaze directly, the Saint King solemnly bowed his head in a curt dip of deference.

“My deepest apologies. That, I cannot do.”

“…What did you say?”

Doyun furrowed his brow in mounting displeasure.

Yet before allowing his ire to intensify further, he decided to first hear the Saint King’s reasoning in full.

Despite their brief acquaintance, this did not seem like a man who would utter such refusals flippantly without justifiable cause.

Sensing Doyun’s willingness to listen, the Saint King began explicating his stance:

“The Founding Patriarch’s will – and yours as Sir Enoch himself – I revere with celestial reverence befitting a disciple and junior successor.”

“Then why…?”

His tone radiated profound sincerity, only compounding Doyun’s bafflement over this incomprehensible rejection.

The Saint King inhaled deeply before continuing gravely:

“I am a king first and foremost.”

He stated this fact with heavy emphasis.

“To me, Labyrinthe transcends even my own life itself in paramount importance.”

Despite defying the will Doyun had equated to the heavens themselves, the Saint King’s demeanor remained utterly unyielding and resolute.

“Were I to heed your command, I may potentially perish on this battlefield. Yet I cannot forsake Labyrinthe under any circumstances. The enemy could divert their invasion path towards my kingdom at any moment. To me, Labyrinthe and my subjects represent existences more precious than even my own life.”

“…”

“I absolutely cannot abandon Labyrinthe. I beseech your forgiveness for this disrespectful subordinate’s obstinance.”

The Saint King knelt down once more, bowing his head contritely in apology.

That undercurrent of dogged determination resonating through his words left Doyun unable to voice any further reproach – the Saint King spoke no falsehoods after all.

Should he depart for Muspelheim only for the enemy to target Labyrinthe instead, that undefended kingdom would inevitably fall defenseless.

Moreover, his professed reverence for his subjects represented a noble conviction deserving the highest respect. Strictly speaking, the Saint King prioritized his duties as monarch over his status as Hecreaux’s inheriting disciple or even as a Paladin.

Doyun realized any attempts at persuasion would prove utterly futile against such intransigent resolution.

‘…Oh dear.’

Had this endeavor represented a fruitless diversion after all?

While gleaning many insights, his crucial objective of securing additional military fortifications had still ended in failure despite the dire urgency gripping their current predicament.

‘…No, wait a moment.’

Doyun began contemplating potential alternatives to resolve this impasse.

Having lived over 200 years across countless battlefields, one of Enoch’s greatest assets had been his bold, adaptable mindset constantly seeking dynamic solutions through sheer accumulated experience.

Soon enough, Doyun formulated his proposed counterplan with a wry grin.

“Summon healers and convalescence potions.”

“Some mishap, Your Grace? Were your injuries not fully tended, perchance?”

“No, the one requiring treatment shall be you instead.”

The Saint King tilted his chin up slightly in mild bemusement.

“If you intend emulating my fighting style, you shall find it rather strenuous.”

Doyun stated as he turned to exit the throne room with deliberate strides.

“You will need to train under my personal tutelage. Effective immediately.”

“…I require some contextualization first.”

With the enemy forces still approximately three days out from reaching Muspelheim:

“Within that three day window, I shall elevate your mastery over the Hecreaux style to S-Rank proficiency.”

The Saint King’s eyes widened sharply in shock.