Chapter 88: Outburst! The Sixth Sense of the Microcosm

“Salvation? Heh, I can only hope that after my death, my soul might be saved by the Father and ascend to that beautiful heaven.” At this, Lothar shook his head. “How laughable. I haven’t even completed the trials given to me by the Father—what right do I have to dream of paradise? Enough, young Saga, you must go. Don’t worry about me. You’re someone the Grand Archbishop holds in high regard, a holy warrior of the Father. You cannot die in a place like this. As your count, I order you: leave immediately and do not concern yourself with me!”

Saga said nothing. Only after fending off another wave of enemies did he, panting heavily, finally reply, “Forgive me, my lord. My life and soul are already devoted to the Father. Aside from the orders of the Grand Archbishop and the Father Himself, I need obey no one else.”

Lothar gave a bitter smile at these words, unsure how else to persuade him. He was no fool; he knew that the more they spoke in such dire circumstances, the greater the danger became. If Saga were ambushed while distracted talking to him, it would be the end.

At that moment, the assault of the ghouls abruptly ceased, and a path opened up among them. Then, to the astonishment of both Saga and Lothar, a woman clad in black strode forward. Her gaze was proud and cold, and she spoke in a cool, melodious voice, “Boy, what is your name?”

Saga was taken aback. After a moment’s silence, he realized that exchanging words might buy some time, so he straightened and replied with no lack of spirit, “I am Saga Victor, Bronze Saint of the Dragon Constellation, servant of the Father’s Church!”

The woman in black nodded. “Saga Victor, is it? Impressive. Among all the young talents I have seen, you would rank in the top ten. You look to be no more than sixteen or seventeen, yet you have great potential. It would be a shame for you to die so young. Why not pledge yourself to our church instead?”

Both Saga and Lothar were stunned by this. Saga’s face immediately darkened, and he was about to retort, but after a moment’s thought, he suppressed his anger and asked in a low voice, “You’re from a church as well? Which one?”

The woman snorted coldly. “That is not for you to ask. Once you join us, all will be revealed. So, what do you say, Saga Victor? Are you willing to surrender? If you so much as nod, our church will treat you far better than your current one. We’ll provide you with the finest tonics and supplements—let me tell you, we possess elixirs of immeasurable value that will double your progress. If you desire women, we’ll reward you generously; and once our great plan succeeds, even if you wish for a princess, it wouldn’t be impossible.”

Hearing this, both Saga and Lothar sensed a vast conspiracy. It seemed their foes considered them trapped beyond hope of escape, and so spoke without a care.

Saga immediately tried probing further, attempting to draw out their secrets, but although the woman was confident of victory, she divulged nothing more. After much testing, Saga gleaned no useful information.

Realizing he could get no more from her, Saga’s expression turned icy as he cast off all pretense. “I do not know who you people truly are, but I, Saga, am no coward, nor do I cling to life. As a Saint, I do not fear death, nor will I be tempted by your paltry bribes. In this world, Saints die in battle—never surrender! And as for your mistakes: first, I am only fourteen; second, a Saint’s power comes not from drugs or supplements; and third, while you’ve been wasting time talking, my power has already returned! Burn, my cosmos!”

With these words, Saga’s cosmos flared wildly, radiating a fierce aura. His sacred armor resonated with him, igniting like green fire. The woman in black and her followers all blanched; she hurriedly retreated and ordered the ghouls to attack.

Facing the swarm, Saga did not hesitate. Burning his cosmos to its peak, he unleashed the Roaring Dragon Blast. A majestic green dragon-shaped aura howled forth, reducing every ghoul in its path to ash.

At this sight, the black-clad figures recoiled in unison. Until now, Saga had conserved his strength and refrained from using his ultimate techniques, but with this sudden display, panic seized the enemy. The strongest of them was only at the early fourth tier, and their assault on Count Lothar relied on spatial rifts and other secret weapons. In terms of raw might, they were far inferior to the city lord’s guards.

Yet the Saint’s combat techniques were enormously draining. The Roaring Dragon Blast was among the most exhausting of all, and as its energy faded, Saga had dispatched eighty percent of the ghouls, but was left gasping for breath himself.

Noting this, the black-clad woman smirked. “Saga Victor, you are indeed formidable. If your strike had landed, I too would be done for. But your techniques come at a steep cost—having unleashed your ultimate move once, how much longer can you last?” With a wave of her hand, another horde of ghouls surged forward. “You see, my minions are endless!”

Saga snorted. “Endless, are they? Very well, let’s see how many you can summon! Roaring Dragon Blast!” He unleashed his ultimate move again, the green dragon aura roaring forth—though this time, its strength was noticeably diminished.

Seeing this, the woman in black vanished in a flash. Before Saga could recover, she appeared at his side and drove her dagger deep into his unprotected waist—bronze armor left many areas exposed, and the waist was one of them.

Without hesitation, she withdrew her blade and leapt back. Saga’s face hardened as he clutched his wound, stifling a groan of pain, and fell to one knee.

Lothar, pinned helplessly against the wall, cried out in alarm and fury, “Saga, are you all right? You vile fiends—how despicable!”

“Despicable?” The woman in black sneered. “For a lord, you are rather naive. On the battlefield, only victory matters—there’s no such thing as dishonor.” She ignored Lothar’s blustering and turned instead to the suffering Saga. “Saga Victor, having taken my strike, how much longer can you hold out? The dagger I used is cursed—no healing can close your wound. You will grow weaker and bleed until you die. Only I, the dagger’s owner, can save you. So I ask again: will you yield?”

Saga glared at her, catching his breath, then stood tall and declared, “Demon, your answer will never change, no matter how many times you ask. Saints die in battle—never surrender!”

“Is that so? What a pity. But no matter. That magical steel armor of yours is quite fine; when you’re dead, I’ll gift it to my subordinates. Kill him!” she commanded coldly, and the ghouls rushed at Saga.

Saga was already wavering, blood pouring from his wound like an open faucet, barely able to stand. Yet he held his head high, his gaze steady and resolute. It was as if he faced not a host of enemies, but a rabble to be swept away. Even his foes could not help but feel a surge of respect.

Witnessing Saga’s bearing, not only Lothar but even the black-clad assailants looked on with admiration and regret—a youth of such will, character, and talent was about to fall.

As the enemy drew near, Saga closed his eyes and whispered words only he could hear, “Forgive me, Yuna; your brother may not return. Apologies, Grand Archbishop; I may not live up to your expectations, nor see the day I become a Gold Saint. Still, even in death, I will not sully the name of Saint. Dragon Constellation armor, burn with me in one last blaze! Burn, my cosmos, let my final light shine forth!”

The last words came as a roar. As he cried out, Saga’s cosmos surged wildly, surpassing all previous limits. While blood loss dulled his senses, his mind suddenly grew clear, everything around him seeming to slow, his thoughts sharper and swifter than ever before.

At that moment, a new Saint’s legacy was transmitted to him through his armor. As he absorbed this knowledge, Saga understood what had happened: he had awakened the Sixth Sense—the profound perception only Silver Saints could attain. As his cosmos broke through into this realm, a torrent of green energy burst from him, flinging back every ghoul that dared approach.

This sudden turn left both the black-clad foes and Count Lothar stunned. They quickly realized that Saga’s power had leapt to the late fourth tier—nearly an entire level higher. If he now unleashed his ultimate technique again, what devastation might it wreak?

With this in mind, the woman in black hesitated no longer. She darted behind Saga, preparing to strike—yet this time, Saga spun around and drove his fist into her face, sending her flying like a severed kite. Had two of her followers not caught her, she would surely have been smashed to the ground.

Saga, looking at the dazed woman and her shocked companions, spoke coldly and with icy pride, “The same trick will not work on a Saint twice. Now, I’ll show you the new technique I just mastered—my final blaze! Burn, my cosmos—Dragon’s Hundredfold Roar!”

As his cosmos reached its zenith, Saga thrust both hands forward. The full force of his cosmos exploded outward, transforming into dozens of azure dragons that tore through the enemy, obliterating everything in their path. The power far surpassed the Roaring Dragon Blast—tenfold, at least.

This was the Dragon’s Hundredfold Roar—the ultimate move of the Dragon Saint, a technique whose cost and might eclipsed anything that came before.