Chapter 3: A Supernatural Civilization
1232 Words
The prayer time lasted only half an hour. When the bell rang inside the church, it signaled the end of prayer, and the congregation began to disperse.
Merlin was pulled aside by May Snow, who looked anxious, and they headed toward a small side door in the church. Before long, the two arrived in the back courtyard. There, Merlin saw over twenty people of varying ages practicing swordsmanship under the guidance of a middle-aged man.
May Snow stepped forward nervously and whispered to the middle-aged man, “Sir Perot…”
The man was none other than Swordmaster Perot. He appeared to be in his thirties, clad in silver light armor and holding a broad sword four fingers wide. His sharp eyes and imposing demeanor made him seem extremely authoritative.
Swordmaster Perot glanced at May Snow and Merlin and said calmly, “Return to your places.”
May Snow was delighted that Perot didn’t punish them and quickly pulled Merlin to blend into the crowd.
Merlin, still a bit dazed, had just entered the crowd and wasn’t sure where to go, when he saw a red-haired boy waving at him from the back.
“Merlin, over here!”
The red-haired boy winked and called out.
Merlin hesitated for a moment. Memories of the red-haired boy stirred faintly in his mind, and he quickly made his way over.
“Hey Merlin, you’re late again. Did you see Swordmaster Perot’s face? Not looking good. You’re in for it.”
Merlin frowned—not because of the threat of punishment, but because he was trying to remember this boy. Fortunately, while many memories were gone, this one was strong enough to surface.
The red-haired boy was Anson, Merlin’s close friend, and also a baron’s son. But unlike Merlin, Anson wasn’t the heir—he had two older brothers ahead of him.
Anson chattered away at Merlin’s side, but Merlin was lost in thought and didn’t catch what he said.
Just then, Swordmaster Perot’s gaze swept over them. Anson instantly froze and fell silent.
Perot then pointed toward a nearby weapon rack. It was filled with greatswords, shields, daggers, warblades, battleaxes, and more.
“Merlin, Anson. Move that iron shield to the center.”
Anson’s face fell. He gave Merlin a wry smile. “Great, you were late and now I have to suffer too…”
Grumbling aside, Anson stood up and joined Merlin in dragging the heavy black shield from the rack.
The shield wasn’t large, but it was incredibly heavy. Both of them had to use their full strength just to move it slightly.
Merlin wondered who could possibly lift such a shield in combat—and what use it would be if no one could.
Panting, they finally managed to place it in the center, leaning it against a massive boulder, and stood to the side respectfully.
Perot didn’t even look at them. Instead, he addressed the others: “You’ve been training for some time. Today, let’s test your strength. Anyone who thinks they can break this shield with their bare hands—step forward and try.”
Merlin’s expression shifted. He’d just struggled to move that shield with Anson—it was heavy and solid. Breaking it by hand? Impossible!
He figured Perot just wanted to test their courage.
“Teacher, I’ll go first.”
A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out and spoke to Swordmaster Perot.
Perot nodded. “Very well, Cardron. You try first.”
Anson muttered under his breath, “Cardron again… Always showing off just because he’s the swordmaster’s disciple.”
Cardron strode confidently to the shield, took a deep breath, and clenched his fist, preparing himself.
“Bang!”
He punched the shield with incredible speed and full force. Oddly, faint white light flickered around his fist.
The loud crash echoed. The shield didn’t break, not even a dent. Perot shook his head. “Cardron, don’t rely on brute strength. Elemental power is the strongest force. You must guide it with your heart—this is the essence of an Elemental Swordsman.”
Cardron bowed with a dissatisfied look and returned to his place.
“Ha! He’s talented, sure—but becoming an Elemental Swordsman is another matter entirely.”
Anson grinned. Merlin remained calm outwardly, but inside, waves of shock were rising.
Even from a distance, Merlin could feel the fierce gust stirred up by Cardron’s punch—it was terrifyingly powerful. In Merlin’s eyes, such strength was simply beyond what an ordinary person could possess.
And that wasn’t even the most shocking part. What truly startled Merlin was that despite such overwhelming power, Cardron’s hand remained unscathed—not a single injury in sight.
“Anyone else want to try?”
Sir Perot’s gaze once again swept over the crowd.
“Sir Perot, I’d like to try.”
A familiar voice rang out. Merlin narrowed his eyes slightly—the speaker was none other than his sister, May Snow.
Sir Perot nodded. “Very well, May Snow. You may try as well.”
May Snow approached the shield, casting a playful wink at Merlin. She then took a deep breath, her prominent chest rising and falling dramatically—so much so that Anson stared blankly for a moment.
“Bang!”
A loud boom echoed—May Snow had struck the shield with a force that matched, if not exceeded, Cardron’s.
Merlin watched closely this time. He noticed a faint, flickering flame on May Snow’s fist—like a tiny spark, shimmering intermittently.
Though she looked small and delicate, like Cardron, May Snow’s hand was entirely unscathed—as if she hadn’t just struck a heavy iron shield.
But having moved that shield himself, Merlin was well aware of its weight. With that kind of heft, it could only have been forged from solid iron.
“How can I have no memory of this? May Snow is this strong? Is she even human?”
Merlin felt that some vital memories in his mind had likely been lost.
“Is there anyone else who wants to try?”
This time, no one stepped forward. Sir Perot slowly rose to his feet and walked up to the shield.
His voice suddenly became loud and powerful: “Watch closely! The true essence of an Elemental Swordsman lies in the element itself! The power of the elements is unrivaled. Only by guiding them with your heart can you unleash their true might!”
As he finished speaking, Sir Perot clenched his right fist. In an instant, flames erupted from his hand, engulfing his entire arm in fire.
“c***k!”
With a mighty blow, Sir Perot punched down. The iron shield, once so solid, shattered like a wooden board—breaking into several pieces and scattering on the ground like scrap metal.
Even the massive boulder behind the shield was cracked from the shock, covered in dense web-like fractures.
“This… this is? Supernatural power?”
Merlin stared in stunned silence, his mind blank. What he had just witnessed was completely beyond his understanding.
A human body releasing flames? And the power of Sir Perot’s punch—it was comparable to a small bomb!
Merlin had originally thought he had transmigrated into a backward and primitive world. But now, that assumption had been completely overturned.
Sir Perot’s punch just now was unmistakable proof—this was a world of supernatural civilization!
- Writer
