Lightning-blue sparks of electric gold crackled along the length of Jack’s broadsword, his knuckles turning stark white as he gripped the hilt. Rage burned in the Guild Master’s eyes, a volatile mix of wounded pride and celestial influence that turned his gaze into a pair of burning embers. Around them, the spectators held their breath, their digital scanners beep-beeping in a frantic, rising rhythm that mirrored their racing hearts. Every single hunter in the courtyard was glued to their holographic interfaces, watching the raw mana levels spike to unprecedented heights. Heavy, suffocating pressure descended upon the ruined courtyard as Jack drew upon the full reservoir of his borrowed power. Ruan stood entirely unmoved by the display, his posture relaxed, his hands hanging loosely at his sides as if he were merely waiting for a light summer rain rather than a lethal strike. Look at him, he is not even taking a stance, whispered a hunter in the back, her voice trembling as she clutched her staff. She checked her system interface again, but Ruan's power level remained completely blank, registering as absolute zero. Gold light began to pour from Jack's eyes, a sign of his deep synchronization with his celestial master, the God of Iron. Sweat dripped from Jack's chin, sizzling the moment it touched the superheated ground beneath his heavy boots. Standing before this ancient ghost, Jack felt an irrational, primal terror that he desperately sought to drown in pure, unadulterated anger. He could feel the celestial contract humming in his veins, urging him to destroy this anomaly who dared to defy the established order of the stars. With a guttural roar, the Guild Master hoisted the massive blade high above his head, the metal screaming with divine resonance. Silence fell over the arena, thick and absolute, broken only by the high-pitched hum of the glowing broadsword. Cracks spread outward from Jack's feet, the asphalt spiderwebbing under the sheer weight of his celestial aura. His muscles swelled under the influence of the blessing, his armor groaning under the strain of his expanded physical frame. How dare you look down on me! Jack screamed, his voice carrying the dual resonance of his own vocal cords and a metallic, otherworldly echo. Nothing in this world can withstand the edge of a divine weapon, you ancient relic! Jack lunged forward, a streak of gold light trailing behind him as he covered the distance in a fraction of a second. His speed was terrifying, a golden blur that left deep gouges in the earth with every step. For a thousand years, humanity has evolved past your primitive ways, and I am the proof! Jack roared as he brought the blade down with enough force to split a mountain. Instead of dodging, Ruan simply raised his left hand, turning his bare palm upward to meet the descending edge of the holy weapon. His movement was fluid, devoid of any panic, a perfect motion refined over a century of solitary training. This act of apparent madness drew collective gasps from the onlookers, many of whom averted their eyes from the expected gore. Slowly, almost lazily, Ruan's fingers spread wide, welcoming the divine strike with nothing but flesh and bone. Whispers of doubt vanished as the blade made contact with Ruan's skin, resulting in an ear-splitting screech of metal on metal. It was not the sound of cutting flesh, but the screech of two solid plates of steel grinding against one another at terminal velocity. Before anyone could process the sound, a shockwave of displaced air blew outward, kicking up a thick storm of dust and debris. Underneath the dust, the golden glow of the divine sword flared with desperate, frantic intensity, trying to bite through Ruan's flesh. Every single spectator strained their eyes to see through the haze, expecting to find Ruan's hand severed and his body cleaved in two. Instead, the golden light of the sword began to warp, bending around Ruan's palm as if repelled by an invisible, impenetrable barrier. Only a perfectly preserved hand met their gaze, the pale skin of Ruan's palm completely unblemished by the holy edge. A tiny, sharp ring echoed through the courtyard, a sound so delicate yet so profound it made everyone's heart skip a beat. His divine sword was trembling, its golden light flickering violently as if the weapon itself was screaming in terror. Ruan’s hand had not moved an inch, remaining perfectly suspended in the air, catching the full weight of an S-Rank hunter's strike. Its edge was stopped by a wall of pure, concentrated physical force, a density of muscle and bone refined beyond mortal comprehension. Their eyes locked, Jack's wide with sheer, unadulterated horror, and Ruan's cold, dark, and utterly bored. Your god is weak, Ruan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet that carried clearly to every corner of the yard. He had faced true gods in his youth, beings of genuine celestial weight, not these parasitic concepts that traded power for mortal souls. Never in his life had Jack heard someone speak of a Constellation with such casual, venomous disdain. When Ruan closed his fingers into a tight fist around the flat of the blade, the sound of fracturing metal filled the air. Where the divine weapon met Ruan's grip, a network of bright, jagged fractures erupted, spreading rapidly up the length of the steel. The golden runes carved into the blade began to flicker and pop like dying lightbulbs, their divine power leaking out in useless, chaotic streams. With a sharp twist of Ruan's wrist, the holy weapon shattered, exploding into a shower of harmless, glittering dust. Screaming in agony as the feedback of his broken contract ripped through his soul, Jack fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Chunks of the broken sword littered the cracked asphalt, their divine glow fading into dull, worthless iron within seconds. The golden light in Jack's eyes snuffed out completely, leaving them bloodshot and hollow. Crying hysterically, Jack scrambled forward on his hands and knees, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his weapon. My sword... my connection to the Lord of Iron... it's gone... Jack sobbed, his face smeared with dirt and tears. He clawed at the dust, his fingers bleeding as he tried to grasp the lifeless shards of metal. His status screen glitched violently before him, his level dropping as the celestial link was forcibly severed by Ruan's physical dominance. Ruan stood over the weeping guild master, looking down at him with a mixture of cold pity and intense disgust. This was what humanity had become—dependent on the table scraps of cosmic parasites, weeping over shattered toys instead of relying on their own inner strength. You traded your soul for a toy, Ruan whispered, his words cutting deeper than any blade ever could. He turned his back on the broken man, his boots crunching softly over the metal dust. Step by step, Ruan walked past the broken hunter, not even offering him a second glance as he headed toward the exit. No one dared to move, nor did anyone attempt to block his path as the crowd parted like water before a leviathan. Their eyes were wide, their mouths open in silent shock as they stared at the man who had just shattered a divine weapon with his bare hand. The digital scanners in their hands glitched and sparked, unable to process the lack of mana from a man who possessed such terrifying strength. Behind him, the ruined courtyard remained silent, the spectators staring at the broken Guild Master who had once been considered invincible. Far away from the courtyard, deep within the city's grand cathedral, a sudden shift in the spiritual pressure occurred. Priests in white robes fell to their knees, clutching their heads as a high-pitched ringing sound vibrated through the stone walls. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and heated metal as the divine energy within the temple began to churn. Altar boys dropped their golden censers, watching in terror as the massive stone statues of the pantheon began to shake. Deep within the city's grand cathedral, a statue of the God of Iron begins to weep tears of boiling, molten gold as a voice echoes: 'Find the one who does not belong to the stars.'

Chapter 5: A Lesson in True Steel