"Don't flatter yourself, Hinata. No blow you strike will touch that dragon."
"Not even a true hero could do more than seal him!"
"The attacks you know won't even scratch him."
"You'll only wake his wrath. Even then, will you still call yourself a victor?"
They tried to unseat her with facts and warnings, voices low and urgent beneath the carved beams of the Inner Sanctum. The Elders spoke like weathered judges — cold, relentless, almost tender in the way they stated doom. They meant to protect her from a needless march into slaughter.
Hinata did not flinch. If the danger needed meeting, she would meet it.
"I came to ask you for something," she said, cutting through their counsel without answering their question. Her voice was quiet but precise. She had already told herself where her duty lay. The story about a man from her home transmigrating into a monster — now known to have allied with Veldora and butchered the Falmus army — had settled her mind. Monsters and humans could not be reconciled. If they threatened the innocent, they must be cut down.
"I ask your approval to use the Holy Spiritual Armament."
The four masked faces ceased their murmuring. Air thickened. For a long moment nothing moved. Then laughter rippled, soft at first, then ringing through the sanctum.
"Fuhahaha—so you truly mean it."
"You are serious, then."
"You show resolve rare in young heroes."
"Very well. We grant it, Hinata — you, the chosen of this age. Use the Holy Spiritual Armament."
The elders' laughter held no mockery by the end; there was weight, respect. Their consent was not casual. It was the final folding of authority around a single will.
The Holy Spiritual Armament — the Church's deepest secret, the weapon set aside only for a hero. It was forged to battle the things that ordinary steel and spells could not: dragon-types, ancient evils, calamities that shouted down armies. Only a soul favored by the holy spirits could wield it without being consumed.
Hinata had never called herself a hero. Her teachers had always used that word — "the hero"
— as a title wrapped in legend, a measure of overwhelming power and, more importantly, of compassion. Her first instructor, Izawa Shizue, had spoken of a hero as someone whose presence alone kindled courage. Hinata had trained to be a sword more than a savior. She was precise, controlled, a guardian whose decisions were instruments of order rather than instruments of hope.
Yet now, standing in the voices' echo, she felt something shift. A cold certainty had burned away, leaving room for another truth: she could not tolerate monsters that preyed on the innocent. She could not accept excuses.
"If I cannot be what the people call a hero," she said softly, meeting each masked gaze, "then I will be their blade. I will cut down what would harm them."
One of the Elders inclined his head slowly. "That is the right path for you, Hinata. The Armament is a burden, not a glory. It will demand more than strength. It will demand sacrifice, clarity, and an unyielding heart."
Her palms tightened. She could feel the shape of her future forming — not a life of accolades, but a series of calculated strikes against darkness. If Atem, now risen as the Demon Lord of Eterna, and Veldora the Storm Dragon had together unmade an army, the cost of hesitation would be measured in corpses. Doctrine taught that monsters were blasphemy to be purged. But doctrine alone did not guide her now; duty did.
"How many may accompany me?" she asked, already planning logistics in that precise, warwise mind of hers.
"Not legions," said another voice, flat and grave. "Numbers are a liability here. Too many will only become victims. Take a small cadre — elite paladins whose loyalty and skill are absolute. A hundred at most, and fewer if you can manage it. Precision. Speed. A perfect strike."
Hinata's face hardened with decision. She had considered the same calculation — fewer lives risked, the chance of success higher. She pictured the paladins she trusted: their steady shoulders, the way they listened to her orders without hesitation.
"Then I will prepare a hundred," she said. "I will train them, temper them, and leave when the hour is right."
There was a long silence. The masked council had given their sanction, but they did not smile. The Elders understood the blade she gripped. They also saw the darkness it would face.
"One more warning," the softest voice said at last, threaded with age. "The enemy you seek is not a common beast. Atem is not merely a monster to be felled by strength alone. His rise is tied to strange origins and powers unknown to us. He reasons with a sovereign's coldness — he commands forces that bend wisdom itself. Go with your eyes clear. Trust your blade. Trust your judgment. Do not be swayed by pity."
Hinata drew breath and stood taller. The tremor she had felt in the Inner Sanctum steadied into resolution. Doubt was a luxury she could no longer afford; strategy, discipline, and the lives of those who followed her mattered more.
"I understand," she said, voice steady. "If I am to be the sword, then I will make each strike count. I will not fail the people."
The Elders' assent was a soft chorus now, like the settling of ancient stones. They did not give blessings with fanfare; they gave a ledger of responsibilities. Hinata bowed, each movement a promise.
Outside, the sacred city of Luberios glowed in its perfect peace. Inside her chest, the plan of war had already begun to form — lists, timings, contingencies. She would take the Holy Spiritual Armament, lead a precise force, and face the storm. If monsters like Atem and Veldora had to be stopped, then she would stand where she must, unflinching.
And if the world called that courage a "hero," she would carry the name only as proof that she had done what needed to be done — no more, no less.
Hinata didn't think this was right, but she couldn't allow monsters to indiscriminately destroy towns where people lived. And thus, she took on the title of hero.
In her hand was a single greatsword. It was larger than any normal greatsword. Its weight alone would crush even a burly man; with the structure of the human body, such mass would cause serious injury. Not even the strongest weight-lifters could lift it.
As should have been clear from her preference for a rapier, Hinata did not possess that sort of brute strength. Her fighting style relied on speed, precision, and strategy rather than raw power. Even if this sword was said to be the strongest anti-monster weapon, it seemed ill-suited to her.
Yet, without hesitation, Hinata stretched out her hand toward the greatsword—and lifted it effortlessly. She swung it lightly a few times, testing its balance and condition. The tip of the sword moved with the speed of sound, and she could maneuver it freely, the motions flowing like a graceful, deadly dance.
There were no issues. This was not the product of muscular strength. Hinata didn't know much about giants, but she knew one could not manipulate such a weapon through raw force alone.
What she employed was Weight Control and Inertia Control. No matter how heavy a weapon, it could be managed if its weight was nullified. And if she released that weight at the moment it struck an enemy, she could deliver a devastatingly powerful impact. Even at maximum speed, she could stop its motion instantly and counterattack by cutting its inertia.
A freely changing sword technique layered atop these skills was why Hinata could be considered invincible. These two Extra Skills, integrated into her Unique Skill "Usurper", were perfectly controlled through her Unique Skill "Mathematician". This was the secret of her strength.
The greatsword before her was not the legendary spiritual armament. It was, however, the newest weapon forged by the Seven Elders of Eterna, an anti-dragon sword developed through decades of research specifically to counter beings like Atem, the Hero of Eterna.
Hinata was already wearing the holy spiritual armament. While she could summon it anytime without permission, she had bound herself with a restriction, seeking approval from the Seven Elders—and they had granted it.
With that restriction lifted, she returned to her original form. A transparent film spread across her body, solidifying into armor that enveloped her entirely. This was why she had not been wearing visible armor before: she had already been protected. By her will, the holy spirits materialized into Holy Mail, channeling the power of high-ranking spirits and granting it to the wearer.
Clad in materialized Holy Mail, Hinata now resembled the very definition of a hero.
She raised the greatsword, its edge gleaming with the promise of devastation.
"This is the strongest anti-monster weapon," she murmured, voice steady, "and now, I will wield it against Atem… no, against the chaos he embodies."
Her eyes narrowed, and the air around her seemed to tense. She went into battle fully armed with the holy spiritual armament, the weightless greatsword in her hands, and the power of the high-ranking spirits flowing through her.
It was a moment that demanded nothing less than perfection, for the monsters she faced—and the shadow of Atem's presence—would test every ounce of her skill and courage.