Dartmenly Secret Art

Jacques clenched the hilt of his sword and spun around, charging off to one side.

Having sensed a certain emotion, Isabella's reaction was a beat too slow. Under normal circumstances, she would have foreseen it and stopped Jacques, but this time, she was ultimately too late.

As a Paladin, Jacques's current physical attributes had already reached eight, yet he had not encountered a bottleneck.

He only needed to train for another year or two before returning to the family and using its resources to rapidly advance to the Steel Breed.

Under such circumstances, Jacques could cover a great distance in a single second.

Though Isabella's mind was quick, her movements were not.

Priests were at a clear disadvantage in this regard. Only upon reaching the Steel Breed could they properly make up for it.

At that point, they could forcibly control their bodies with their minds, allowing their bodies to respond to an enemy's rapid movements.

By the time Isabella reacted and turned around, Jacques had already shrunk into a tiny black dot in the distance.

Setting aside the sorrow in her heart, Isabella immediately made the right choice—she went to find the Old Priest.

She knew very well that even before Jacques came here, he had been suppressing his anger, wanting to teach the family traitor a lesson.

To Jacques, cracking down on those illegally mining the Whale Skin Mine was not the point. The point was how to use this matter to punish Nigel.

This was also one reason Isabella had always hesitated over Jacques's pursuit of her.

It was not because Jacques was unkind or anything of the sort. Someone like Jacques, willing to uphold justice, was already rare among noble families. His character was more than acceptable.

The problem was that Jacques had been influenced too deeply by his family.

His head was filled with the family's honor. Whatever the family said was absolutely correct in his eyes, and he never questioned whether it was true.

People like that were far too easily turned into cannon fodder by their families.

And Jacques was no different now.

Benjamin, the tainted witness, was directly connected to Otto, the miner, not Nigel. Otto first had to be convicted before they could investigate whether the two had exchanged benefits.

Only after confirming that they had could they move against Nigel.

The identity of a Paladin was Nigel's greatest shield. Back then, the Dartmenly Family had hated Nigel to the bone, yet had they not still been unable to lay a hand on him?

Yet now, after the witness's death, Jacques's first thought was not of Otto, but of rushing toward Nigel.

"The family's influence has made Jacques lose even the most basic logical judgment."

"Under uncertain circumstances, an apprentice Paladin attacking a full Paladin is a grave crime!" Insurrection against one's superior was deeply unpopular in any organized force.

Isabella understood this, which was why she hurried to seek out the Old Priest.

Only the Old Priest could suppress this matter now.

Jacques had no idea that Isabella would think so much after his reckless action.

He had only one thought now: to demand an explanation from Naimus.

His reasoning was simple. In this village, who besides Naimus could possibly have the ability to carry out such a large-scale massacre?!

There was only one thought in Jacques's mind: Naimus was a bad man, so when something bad happened and Naimus was clearly the only capable person nearby, he had to be made to explain himself!

Very quickly, he spotted Naimus's house.

"Nigel!!!" Jacques shouted. Without the slightest hesitation, he rushed forward and kicked the front door, about to break in, grab Naimus, and demand to know why he had killed so many innocent people!

But the next instant, his body was sent flying backward.

He crashed heavily onto the ground, carving a long trail through the dirt as he skidded.

Naimus slowly walked out of the house, his body slightly angled as he looked down at Jacques lying on the ground.

Only after he stepped outside did his door finally let out a crack and shatter into countless pieces.

Naimus had sensed Jacques approaching long before he arrived. When Jacques kicked the door, Naimus had kicked out from inside as well.

Through the door, the two had exchanged kicks.

And that was how things had ended up as they were.

"Attacking a full Paladin is a grave crime. Jacques, have you lost your mind?"

"If you have, then pay for my door, and I can Forgive your offense." As Naimus spoke, he felt the Precept of Forgiveness within him stir restlessly.

Other than studying faith on one's own, the way to increase one's strength was through the Precept system.

This was the most intact ability preserved within Divinity.

Unfortunately, a Precept could not be established simply because one wished it to be.

And even if one was established, it might not provide sufficient aid.

A complete Precept required actual fulfillment, alignment with the essential nature of the Divinity's Precepts, and a certain degree of difficulty before it could truly be activated.

When it was temporarily impossible to establish more Precepts, increasing the strength and scope of existing ones was the fastest way to grow stronger.

Jacques might be foolish, but his strength was real.

If Naimus could Forgive him, perhaps he would gain a fairly decent boost.

"Dream on! Today, I will smite evil!" Jacques could no longer hear anything Naimus said. His mind contained nothing but his own thoughts.

Drawing a deep breath, Jacques activated the Secret Breathing Technique. At the same time, he placed one hand over his chest, where a pale yellow bead hung, and began chanting in the Divine Secret Language.

"O God, Dartmenly kisses the land you have walked upon and follows the Path of the Saint. Grant me the strength to cut down all obstacles and continue to advance!"

As the words fell, the pale yellow bead before Jacques gave off a faint glow, which then enveloped his body.

Secret Art: Path of the Saint.

A Saint had once emerged from the Dartmenly Family. He had walked upon the Land of Disaster, following in the footsteps of God, and ultimately received a Divine Miracle.

Using that Divine Miracle, he gained fame and established the family.

One of the family's inherited foundations was this secret art connected to the divine. It could greatly enhance the strength of its members.

"You don't know this move, do you, traitor!" Jacques took his stance and stared fixedly at Naimus. His eyes seemed like a dye shop had exploded inside them, brimming with every kind of chaotic emotion.

Hatred and anger toward Naimus, pride in his own secret art and strength, and the thrill of soon being able to teach Naimus a lesson.

All those emotions drove him forward. Jacques stamped his foot, twisted his body, gripped his sword in both hands, and spun as he slashed horizontally at Naimus.

Naimus narrowed his eyes, sensing the power of faith circulating through this secret technique.

His interest was immediately piqued, and he raised his sword in an upward diagonal slash.

"Screeeech!" The blades wailed.

Naimus made his assessment.

"His attributes are roughly around eleven. That has already surpassed the Black Stone Breed's limit. It is still acceptable."

"It is just that secret arts like this generally come with traits. That needs to be considered."

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