CHAPTER 115: THE TRUE STAR STRIKE

Azel and Kyone stood in a large field brimming with holy magic.

The endless grass shimmered faintly, every blade glowing as though kissed by divine light.

The sky was washed in white brilliance, no sun in sight yet everything illuminated.

The two goddesses had been shirtless when he first arrived, and Azel had quickly forced them into proper clothing.

Kyone now wore a fitted black tunic and light trousers, her hair tied back in a high tail that swayed whenever she moved.

Nyala wore a simple white shirt and dark pants and not far from where they stood, She reclined on a long chair, one leg crossed lazily over the other.

She looked perfectly at home, humming as she enjoyed one of the ice-fish packets he had brought along.

She picked at the tender flakes of frozen meat with elegant fingers, her golden eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

Kyone, however, was focused.

"So let’s hold onto our weapons first," she said firmly.

With a wave of her hand, weapons began to materialize, circling Azel in a slow orbit.

They were all carved from white bone, faint traces of runes glimmering along their surfaces.

Blades, spears, and hammers floated weightlessly, each humming with quiet intent.

Azel reached out and caught one of the swords, feeling the cold, smooth texture of bone against his palm.

He had gotten used to these — unlike steel, they vibrated faintly when channeled with energy, resonating with his aura as if alive.

Kyone plucked one out of the air as well, testing the weight.

She twirled it once, then let the blade rest against her shoulder as her sharp eyes fixed on him.

"Let’s begin. That first form of yours — you call it Star Strike, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"But I see no stars."

He blinked. "...Eh?"

"You call it Star Strike, but all you do is swing fast." Kyone’s voice was flat, her gaze unflinching. "The name doesn’t match the technique."

He frowned. "Hm? That’s what it was taught to me as."

"Then let me show you how it was truly meant to be used."

With a single step backward, she put distance between them.

Her expression sharpened, body relaxing into a stance utterly different from the one he knew.

She balanced the bone sword in one hand, lowering her center of gravity as her aura began to stir.

Azel narrowed his eyes.

He wanted to see this.

Her aura spiraled outward, slow at first, then growing denser, thicker, until the air around her shivered.

The energy lifted strands of her hair, pulling them into a dance as though she stood at the heart of a storm.

"Star Strike," she whispered.

The moment the words left her lips, her body blurred.

Azel’s eyes widened.

He tried to track her — poured all of his senses into it but he couldn’t.

She was too fast.

The world itself seemed to bend around her movements, light breaking into streaks.

Then, without warning, the emptiness above him bloomed.

Stars.

They flared into existence one by one, tiny sparks of white light scattered across the sky and field, moving in rhythm with her strikes.

Her blade left arcs of radiance behind, afterimages that stretched and lingered until they resembled constellations.

Azel’s heart pounded as he stared.

It was beautiful, terrifying, overwhelming.

Each swing carried not just speed, but the weight of inevitability, as if the heavens themselves had descended to cut through the world.

By the time he realized it, her sword had stopped a hair’s breadth from his neck.

"You see now?" Kyone asked calmly, her eyes steady.

Azel swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"The hell...? That’s not even close to what I’ve been doing."

"That’s because what you’ve been doing is a child’s imitation, Esteemed Husband" Kyone said, straightening and lowering her blade. "The Hero’s technique wasn’t just speed. The stars aren’t decoration — they are the reflection of his strikes. His movements were so fast, so absolute, they bent light itself. What you saw were fragments of heaven falling to earth."

Azel still couldn’t take his eyes off the fading lights. "...I see. That’s absolutely insane."

She allowed herself a soft exhale. "It’s no surprise you struggled. Just the first form is already a bit beyond regular mortals. To wield it, you must break your limits — not once, not twice, but constantly. That is the only way to leave stars in your wake."

His fists tightened around the sword hilt. "Then teach me. I want to learn it properly."

Her gaze softened just slightly, then sharpened again. "Very well. Prepare yourself."

Training was brutal.

Kyone broke down every aspect of his stance, correcting his balance with ruthless precision.

If his grip slipped, she snapped at him.

If his weight leaned too much on one foot, she forced him to repeat until his legs burned.

Each correction pushed his body closer to collapse.

It was like he wasn’t even her husband at all.

"No! Again."

He slashed until his shoulders screamed, until the sword grew heavy as stone.

She made him adjust his breathing, synchronize his heartbeat with his aura, and then do it all again.

The repetition was maddening, yet he didn’t stop.

Hours passed in this realm.

Time bent strangely, but the ache in Azel’s body felt all too real.

Sweat poured down his face, soaking his shirt.

Every swing felt like a war.

Finally, Kyone raised her hand. "Esteemed Husband, that’s enough training for today... I’ve done what you requested, can you give me my pack now?"

He pulled it out and gave it to her and she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"I love you~"

Azel collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, his body trembling violently as he lost consciousness.

...

When his eyes opened again, he was back in the world of the living.

The contrast was jarring.

Gone was the endless holy field, replaced by the warm familiarity of his chamber.

The first thing he felt was pain.

His body ached everywhere, as if every muscle had been wrung dry and left to smolder.

"Ugh..." He groaned.

Then he noticed warmth pressed against his side.

He turned his head slightly and found Edna there, her emerald eyes looking up at him, filled with relief and tenderness.

"Hey, love," he rasped, his voice rough from exhaustion.

"Welcome back," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile. "You’ve been sleeping a lot lately..."

The last words trailed in a soft murmur, but he caught them.

Azel wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer, pressing his lips against hers.

She melted into the kiss, responding eagerly.

Their lips parted only when he drew back for breath, leaving her pouting slightly, her lips still pursed in longing.

"You’re too beautiful. I can’t resist you," he muttered, resting his head against her neck.

Her cheeks flushed faintly. "I like your family," she whispered. "Ellie, your mother, your father... everyone’s kind. It’s different from the Empire. They don’t ask for anything in return, they just... welcome me. And your mother — she taught me magic, and praised me for learning quickly."

Azel smiled faintly against her skin. "I love it here too. And I’m glad you came with me."

The words made her shiver.

She bit her lip, her eyes softening as she looked at him.

He seemed so tired, yet so sincere, his drooping eyes making him look dangerously handsome.

Unable to hold back, she shifted, leaning closer, and pressed her face against his neck.

Slowly, she grazed her teeth against his skin before biting lightly.

"It’s been a while since I marked you," she murmured, licking the spot possessively.

The door creaked open.

"Master, I prepared some food—" Medusa’s cheerful voice cut off as she froze in the doorway.

Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight. "Oh... am I interrupting?"