Normally, a Saint's headstone wouldn't bear any special markings.
But some Gold Saints are different; their stones carry symbolic signs.
For example, the Saint Cloth mound we found last time had a Libra-shaped mark on it.
Most symbols, though, have been worn away by history like the epitaphs themselves.
Now this headstone bears a faint sword-shaped trace.
So I have to test it.
First, make a headstone. A marble headstone can only push a Gold Saint's grave up to bronze tier. To reach silver tier, you need a white jade headstone.
I don't have a white jade headstone, and I can't get stone now.
So I'll call a courier!
He immediately drove his telekinesis, extending it straight to Aries Temple.
At Aries's gate, Kiki was doing push-ups: "One, two, three, four, five… ugh, I'm dying. Pecs are really hard to train."
"Kiki, Sister Aphro needs a favor."
Damian began sending his voice by thought.
"Sister Aphro, say the word."
Kiki lit up, his fatigue vanishing.
"Pick a damaged Silver Cloth—dead is fine—bring it to the graveyard gate and hand it to the gravekeeper, Damian."
Damian dangled a reward: "Once it's done, I'll remember your help and there'll be a reward. I'll even let you have a kiss someday, got it?"
"No problem, I'll do it right now."
Without hesitating, Kiki whooshed into the Aries Cloth vault and soon came out with a Cloth case on his back.
Within minutes, Kiki had delivered a discarded, dead Silver Cloth into Damian's hands—the Cloth of the Silver Fly Silver Saint who fell in Sicily.
He had the model worker's attitude of doing good without charging, and only asked, "Damian, where's Sister Aphro?"
Damian pulled out a pair of oddly scented pantyhose. "These were worn by Sister Aphro. She's busy lately. She said to give them to you as a keepsake."
Kiki took the pantyhose in both hands, his face going scarlet, then buried his head and took a deep breath.
() That smell!!!
He nearly died on the spot.
"Studies show girls' feet are six times smellier than boys'."
Damian said it with righteous gravity.
Kiki, treasure in hand, took another deep sniff, instantly energized.
So fragrant!
With the dead Cloth in hand, Damian flashed back to the deepest cave in the graveyard and quickly smelted it with phosphorus fire, dissolving it into a silver headstone with practiced ease.
After quenching in water, Damian hefted his shovel, slung the headstone over his shoulder, and in a blink arrived at the newly discovered old grave.
Without another word, he pried off the worn headstone, set the mirror-bright silver one, then swung the shovel and expertly dressed the mound.
Ever since his telekinesis skyrocketed, his premonitions had grown stronger. He had a hunch the Saint buried here was anything but ordinary.
He worked the grave with extra care, and about an hour later he had tidied the mound and its surroundings, then stuck fresh flowers all along the head.
When all was done, Damian looked to the headstone.
Several lines of golden text appeared:
[Body: El Cid]
[Rank: Capricorn Gold Saint]
[Yield: Cosmo +18, Strength +22, Constitution +31]
[Extractable Abilities: Leaping Boulder, Master-level Swordsmanship, Holy Sword]
[Grave Grade: Silver]
"So it's General El Cid's grave. I've struck gold!"
Damian nodded slightly.
He'd hit pay dirt.
The previous Capricorn, El Cid, was a hard case—his Holy Sword was transcendent, the very model of the taciturn killer.
Come on!
Without another word, Damian pressed his hand to the stone.
A surge of powerful Cosmo poured into him, followed by strength and constitution.
The Cosmo was extremely pure, and Damian fused it into every muscle.
The strength and constitution swelled his muscles again, his bones crackling all over.
Ungh…
So he really was a physical-type Gold Saint.
Strength and constitution were a given.
He felt the blood and qi inside him grow ever more robust.
Next came master-level swordsmanship.
In his mind, images flashed of "himself" grinding day after day at the blade.
Sword in hand—summer heat, winter cold—day after day, year after year.
Until "his" sword reached mastery!
Damian's hands trembled slightly. In an instant he grasped the essence of the sword. It was as if an invisible blade lay in his grip.
Yes—he was now a sword master, at least in experience and understanding.
Next was Leaping Boulder.
This technique takes the enemy's strike on the body and uses the rebound to counterattack. Because you have to fully read the opponent's attack, it's highly difficult, but it also pressures the foe.
It's a close-combat, body‑on‑body skill—borrowing force to strike back. Hard to trigger, but it effectively boosts counterpunching.
Last was the Holy Sword!
Heat bloomed in Damian's limbs as the scene twisted. Several ferocious Specters appeared.
"Damn you, Gold Saint—die!"
"Everyone, together!"
The Specters lunged like wolves.
El Cid's arm swept, sword-light flashing. In an instant, he unleashed the Holy Sword.
After a few golden arcs—
The ground split open, and three Specters were cleaved into halves—man and Surplice alike.
Then a hulking Specter strode forth.
He laughed loudly. "I hear there's a Saint in the Sanctuary who has honed his body to the extreme, whose sword‑qi cuts anything—sharp as a Holy Sword of legend."
"But it won't work on me, Genbu Grego of the Celestial Retreat Star."
"My Surplice is the hardest—diamond-hard!"
"If you can cut it, come try!"
In a blink, the giant Specter turned into a huge boulder and barreled forward like a steamroller.
El Cid only gave a light sweep of his arm. A golden flash—
The diamond‑hard Surplice and the man within were cut clean in two—dead!
The vision snapped back.
Damian's mind flooded with Holy Sword methods.
The Holy Sword is, in truth, hand‑blades trained to the absolute peak. Those who cultivate it turn all four limbs into blades, indomitable, slicing planets and rending sky and earth with a flick—an ultimate unarmed attack.
It also takes only a small amount of Cosmo to launch a blow with immense pressure.
Heat thrummed now in Damian's arms and legs—like overwhelming power filled each limb.
He suddenly lifted his hand; a golden sword‑arc swept out, and a rock dozens of meters away split into two.
Like a block of tofu.
He tried again, swinging up a kick—another blade‑arc flashed, and a distant headstone was shaved neatly in half.
If not for avoiding unwanted attention—and being short on time—he'd have happily sliced a few more.
"Impressive…"
Damian steadied himself and looked toward the former Capricorn Gold Saint.
El Cid was a man who could slay gods. This Capricorn had grasped the Holy Sword's essence—able to cut anything, even a god.
Too bad the graveyard is only silver tier, so it didn't roll the ultimate finisher.
Otherwise I'd be carving gods alive on the spot!
Let this El Cid grave be the Sanctuary graveyard's going‑away gift to me.
Next it's time to head for Tokyo and "draw blood" from Athena.
Strictly speaking, it's to put her on maternity leave…
(End of Chapter)
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