A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Saint Martha, one of the twelve Christian holy maidens, was a renowned disciple of Christ. According to legend, she had a brother and a sister, both notable figures in religious lore—Lazarus and Mary Magdalene.

Although the accounts of Saint Martha are limited, her greatest accomplishment was said to be her encounter with the monster (dragon) Tarasque in the town of Tarascon. At the behest of the townsfolk, she subdued the dragon, leading the residents to convert to Christianity. From that point on, Saint Martha made Tarascon her home.

Roy's power, The Hand of Jacob, is hailed as the most powerful combat technique in the Bible. Through his study and personal interpretation, he divided it into seven techniques, each embodying biblical strength and capable of recreating myth and legend.

"The Saint Subdues the Dragon" is one such technique. With this move, Roy's punch carries the power to tame dragons and overpower tigers. Even a mythical dragon would be brought down by this strike.

In religious texts, Saint Martha may have subdued the dragon through compassion and faith. However, The Hand of Jacob distorts the narrative, transforming it into subjugation through raw strength.

…

Metatron loomed like a giant, his towering form akin to the dragons of myth. "The Saint Subdues the Dragon" delivered an overwhelming force capable of toppling such titanic beings.

"BOOM!"

Roy's seemingly petite fist collided with Metatron's colossal arm, unleashing a devastating shockwave. The rock beneath Metatron's feet instantly shattered, fracturing into countless pieces. The angel let out a pained roar as Roy's punch drove him into the ground, pinning his waist in the fissured earth and rendering him momentarily immobile.

"Second technique: 'Moses Parts the Sea!'"

At that moment, Roy resembled a martial artist from ancient Eastern legends, having mastered the pinnacle of combat.

The hand he'd kept tucked casually in his pocket suddenly emerged. Upon Roy's right shoulder, a mosaic-like distortion shimmered, a manifestation of his divine power. Raising his right hand high, he transformed his fist into a blade and slashed down at Metatron's left arm.

The strike, sharper than any blade, sliced through Metatron's limb with ease. Divine blood erupted from the wound, spraying into the air. The force of the strike didn't stop there; its aftermath continued, cleaving the small town at the base of Ponza Island, tearing apart the crescent-shaped beach, and splitting the Tyrrhenian Sea. The chasm extended all the way to the distant horizon.

The magnificent scene resembled the sea being sundered by Poseidon's trident.

"CRASH!"

As the parted sea collapsed back into itself, billions of tons of water surged together, creating monstrous waves. These waves obliterated the crescent beach and swallowed the island's only town entirely, reducing it to rubble beneath the tides.

In the Book of Exodus, Moses led God's chosen people out of Egypt and through the parted Red Sea toward the Promised Land.

Roy reimagined this miracle through The Hand of Jacob, distorting the original account. Moses no longer wielded a staff to part the sea; instead, he split the waters with his bare hands.

"Third technique: 'Sacrifice the Son to the Lord!'"

Without giving Metatron a moment to counterattack, Roy pressed on. His right hand morphed into a spear-like finger, driving toward the angel's chest.

This technique drew upon the story of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son Isaac to prove his devotion to God. In Roy's reinterpretation, Abraham didn't raise a knife but aimed to pierce Isaac's heart with his finger.

The technique embodied unshakable faith and murderous resolve. It was a strike imbued with boundless conviction, a killing blow that nothing could withstand.

The Hand of Jacob was not Roy's most powerful ability, but it was his most practical one. Each move derived its strength from biblical mythos, allowing him to express raw masculine energy through battle. It was a style that resonated deeply with the thrill of combat, igniting his fighting spirit.

At this moment, Roy found himself wanting to pit his strength against that infamous Eastern Cult Leader, Lou Hao. He yearned to test whether her The Twelve Divine Palm Strikes of the Phoenix, imbued with the principles of yin and yang, could rival his The Hand of Jacob, built upon biblical legends.

The name Jacob, also known as Israel, marked him as the progenitor of the Israelites. With this martial art, Roy had truly earned the title "The Martial King of Israel."

Roy's spear-like finger pierced through Metatron's chest. Before the angel could counterattack, he exploded backward in a burst of energy, retreating to a safe distance. The Hand of Jacob may have been hand-centric, but its footwork was unparalleled for rapid maneuvering.

Metatron was in a dire state—his left arm severed, his chest bearing a gaping wound. Were he a mere mortal, he would have perished long ago. Yet as a Heretic God, Metatron's vitality defied conventional understanding. Human vulnerabilities did not apply to gods.

Though stunned by Roy's unrelenting assault, Metatron's divine nature took over. Letting out a deafening roar, he unfurled his thirty-six pairs of fiery wings, the immense force of which shattered the cliffs entirely. The island trembled under the weight of the battle.

Roy, having leaped away, now stood amidst the rubble of the shattered cliffs, locking eyes with the titanic angel.

Behind him, Erica had retreated far enough to escape the brunt of the destruction. Her breathing was ragged, her elegant red dress torn in multiple places, revealing glimpses of her fair, delicate skin.

The Italian girl gripped her Cuore di Leone blade tightly. Though she had managed to fend off the debris and residual shockwaves with her swordsmanship and magic, the sheer devastation left her trembling. Her sapphire eyes widened in shock, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the destruction around her.

With just three moves—one punch, one slash, and one strike—Roy had utterly reshaped Ponza Island. A third of the landmass had sunk into the ocean. The lone town had been wiped off the map, submerged under waves and rubble.

This was the power of a godslayer.

A group of coordinated magicians might be able to achieve such devastation, but only through a grand ritual requiring immense preparation. By contrast, Roy needed no such preparation. He had wrought destruction on this scale effortlessly, with three casual attacks.

The phrase "godslayers are earthly demon kings" now made perfect sense to Erica. Her earlier arrogance, her belief that she could challenge a godslayer, now felt laughable.

Even if she used her full strength, Erica doubted she could withstand even a single one of Roy's blows.

"Metatron, it seems the wounds inflicted by Michael still haven't healed," Roy remarked, his right hand once more tucked into his pocket. The distortion on his shoulder had faded, but his blood still boiled with excitement.

Looking at the wounded "Heavenly Scribe," he spoke with a tone of both amusement and challenge.