Grand Return System-Chapter 106: The Palm That Commands the World
The Palm That Commands the World
Leon slowly raised one hand.
His palm opened.
The surrounding Mana responded instantly.
Wind gathered.
The air trembled.
Invisible currents spiraled toward him as if the world itself had suddenly remembered its master. Robes fluttered around his tall frame, the midnight cloth lined with thin amethyst embroidery rippling like waves under a rising storm.
Behind him—
a faint phantom of a massive palm slowly appeared.
It was enormous.
Vast.
Indistinct.
Yet everyone present felt it.
A pressure that seemed capable of covering the heavens themselves.
Leon murmured softly to himself, voice barely louder than the wind brushing the courtyard stones.
"Let’s see..."
His purple eyes narrowed slightly.
"...how powerful this Sacred Art truly is."
Under the countless gazes of the academy elders and students—
Leon began to practice the Ultimate Hand Strike.
At first glance, the movement seemed almost laughably simple.
Just a palm.
Slow.
Natural.
Almost casual.
But the moment the motion completed—
the atmosphere changed.
Everyone felt it.
A deep, ancient power stirred inside that seemingly simple palm movement.
Kevin’s eyes widened.
"What... is that pressure...?"
The palm technique appeared light, almost effortless, yet every movement carried an overwhelming authority.
It was like watching the sky move.
Or a mountain slowly shifting its weight.
Though Leon stood alone, the illusion appeared that the entire world moved with him.
Within that palm technique—
the energy of the Big Dipper quietly circulated.
Stars.
Gravity.
Heavenly order.
All of it gathered invisibly into the lines of his hand.
A simple palm—
yet capable of driving mountains, severing rivers, overturning seas, and turning the world upside down.
The disciples felt goosebumps rise across their arms.
It was not merely strength.
It was dominion.
For a fleeting moment—
everyone felt the same thought rise in their minds.
It was as if the world itself was under his control.
Mike’s entire body trembled.
His usually calm expression completely shattered as he stared at Leon’s palm technique.
His lips moved slowly.
"It’s actually... a divine-grade cultivation technique."
The words dropped like thunder.
"What?!"
The surrounding elders exploded in shock.
Even the wind seemed to freeze.
One had to understand—
even an ancient orthodoxy like Celestis Academy had never possessed a divine-grade cultivation technique.
Their strongest inheritance was only Heaven-grade.
The Heaven Mending Technique, which only the Headmaster could cultivate.
Yet Leon’s palm technique...
was something far beyond that.
A legendary divine-grade Sacred Art.
Someone swallowed nervously.
"Headmaster... are you certain?"
Another elder asked.
"Is this really divine-grade?"
Maya stood nearby, her long azure hair fluttering wildly in the storm of Mana.
Her teal eyes were wide with disbelief.
Mike slowly nodded.
His expression was solemn.
"I cannot be mistaken."
His voice carried absolute certainty.
"This palm technique is unfathomable."
He watched Leon’s movements carefully.
"Every gesture carries the order of heaven and earth. The Mana obeys his will as if it were born from his palm."
He inhaled slowly.
"Even my Heaven Mending Technique cannot compare."
The surrounding elders went silent.
That statement alone carried terrifying weight.
Maya whispered softly to herself, her voice nearly lost in the wind.
"I didn’t expect Leon to have such talent..."
Her eyes traced Leon’s movements.
"He actually comprehended such a Sacred Art after receiving the Mana Blessings."
A faint smile appeared on her lips. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚
"As expected of someone possessing the Primordial Principal Physics... the strongest physique in history."
Divine-grade Sacred Arts were not things ordinary cultivators could even dream of.
Even if one obtained such a technique—
that didn’t mean they could cultivate it.
It demanded terrifying comprehension.
Extreme talent.
And a mind capable of touching the laws of the world itself.
Even Mike could not confidently say he could master such a technique.
Yet Leon...
had comprehended it within a single epiphany.
Two hours passed.
Slow.
Silent.
The sky above Amethyst Summit Division continued swirling with lingering Mana currents.
Leon finally lowered his hand.
The massive phantom palm behind him slowly dissolved into drifting streams of Mana.
The terrifying aura that had dominated the sky gradually faded.
Inside his mind—
a calm notification echoed.
[Ultimate Hand Strike has reached Greater Mastery.]
Leon opened his eyes.
A faint trace of satisfaction flickered within his purple gaze.
Not bad.
He had only obtained this Sacred Art a few days ago.
Yet today—
he had completely mastered it.
The Ultimate Hand Strike.
Compared to the Font Sword Art, it carried far less murderous intent.
But what it lacked in killing power—
it replaced with absolute authority.
This palm controlled the world.
It ruled heaven and earth.
A technique meant not to slaughter—
but to command existence itself.
Leon slowly descended from the sky.
His posture remained calm.
Graceful.
Almost lazy.
Yet to everyone watching—
he resembled a true immortal descending from the heavens.
The disciples looked at him with awe.
That presence...
matched his strength perfectly.
Mike stepped forward and laughed loudly.
"Haha! Congratulations!"
His voice carried genuine joy.
"Congratulations on comprehending a divine-grade palm technique and advancing your cultivation."
"This is truly the fortune of our academy."
"Our academy will surely prosper!"
Leon gave a modest smile.
"Haha, I was simply lucky."
He waved his hand lightly.
"Senior Brother Headmaster, you praise me too much."
His tone remained humble.
But inside—
Leon was grinning.
That felt good.
Very good.
Pretending to be calm while showing off like this...
was ridiculously satisfying.
Then his gaze shifted.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Toward a certain person.
Shera.
Shera’s face looked absolutely terrible.
Dark.
Rigid.
As if he had swallowed poison.
Leon almost burst out laughing.
He forced himself to remain calm.
Then he spoke gently.
"Senior Brother Shera."
His voice carried innocent concern.
"What’s wrong?"
Leon tilted his head slightly.
"Are you feeling unwell?"
Shera’s face instantly turned even darker.
He felt like vomiting blood.
The surrounding elders almost lost control of their expressions.
Maya covered her lips.
A quiet laugh escaped her.
"Pfft..."
Of course she understood.
Leon was absolutely doing this on purpose.
Earlier—
Shera had confidently declared it impossible for Leon to enter an epiphany.
Yet not only had Leon entered an epiphany—
he had also comprehended a divine-grade Sacred Art.
This was no longer just humiliation.
This was a full slap across the face.
If Shera could still smile now—
he would truly be a saint.
The other division masters watched the scene with barely concealed amusement.
Shera had suppressed them for years.
His strength placed him just below the Headmaster.
His arrogance was notorious.
Seeing him suffer like this—
honestly felt wonderful.
Someone even muttered quietly.
"Serves him right."
Shera looked around.
Every face watching him carried the same expression.
Amusement.
Ridicule.
Even satisfaction.
His chest rose sharply.
His fists clenched.
He could not stay here any longer.
Shera glared coldly at Leon.
"Hmph."
"You’re good."
Those two words were forced through his teeth.
Then he flicked his sleeves violently.
Without another word—
he turned and flew into the sky.
He refused to remain even a second longer.
Today’s humiliation was entirely his own doing.
He had shot himself in the foot.
No one else was to blame.
Leon watched Shera’s retreating figure.
Then he raised his voice kindly.
"Senior Brother!"
Shera stiffened midair.
Leon continued cheerfully.
"Take care on the way back!"
"Be careful not to fall!"
"You’re always welcome to visit Amethyst Summit Division when you have time!"
The disciples nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Shera’s body trembled.
For a moment—
his flying posture actually faltered.
His foot slipped slightly in midair.
He almost fell.
The humiliation was so intense that it felt like someone had stabbed his heart.
To kill him would have been kinder.
Leon’s words—
were torture.
Pure torture.
And far more painful than any blade.
