Episode 204
A sword’s true potential is only realized with a good teacher, proper training, and financial support. In other words, the powerful individuals gathered here have likely invested astronomical sums to hone their skills. This implies one thing: they all hail from the noble families of renowned empires.
Thus, few among these nobles would dare defy the orders of an imperial prince. This was the very spirit of violence that the empire pursued.
“Ah, but don’t misunderstand me, Prince of Saxony,” said the Seventh Prince, Mordred, with a sly smile.
“What do you mean?” Dale inquired.
“We’re not planning to betray you after forming an alliance,” Mordred shrugged. “As you and your brother suggested, this is merely a desperate measure to speed up this tedious and tiresome trial.”
”…”
“To the one who takes down the ‘Black Prince,’ I will immediately bestow one of the Seven Swords of the Continent, along with unimaginable glory for their knightly order and family. How does that sound? If anyone refuses this offer, they can pack up and leave the mountain right now.”
It was an implicit threat. At the same time, Mordred placed a bounty of wealth and honor on Dale’s head, and Dale, understanding the implication, smiled coldly.
“Prince…!”
“You need not move,” Dale said, subtly restraining Sir Helmut Blackbear, who stood for Saxony’s camp, with a shake of his head. The same went for the Light Sword and the Wandering Sword.
Their strength wasn’t worth borrowing.
“I accept Prince Mordred’s proposal. I, too, can’t stand watching a fight among dozens of nobodies,” Dale said, subtly provoking the challengers as he drew his sword. The black demon sword, Gluttony.
In truth, Dale saw this situation as an unexpected opportunity.
He adjusted his grip on the sword and absorbed the tricolored aura pulsating from his ‘Aura Heart.’
Knights are not ignorant of the human body and its structure. However, they don’t comprehend the microscopic concepts of genes and cellular structures.
The human skeleton is a combination of countless particles, and the aura dwelling in the body fills and absorbs the gaps between these particles.
The projection of otherworldly imagery isn’t limited to magic alone. The same applies to swords and the body.
On that day, through the grueling training with three swords, Dale reached the level of an ‘Aura Master’ and adjusted his grip on the hilt.
Around him, a dozen or so challengers simultaneously unleashed their aura blades and charged.
Clang!
Blocking one of the challenger’s strikes, Dale slipped into his opponent’s guard.
”…!”
Thud!
The blade pierced through the challenger’s chest and emerged, only to plunge into another challenger.
With a single strike, two knights fell.
Yet, the number of those surrounding the ‘Black Prince’ was still significant.
“Don’t go alone. Everyone, combine your strength and take him down. Even if the position of the Seven Swords is secondary, the wealth and honor that will be bestowed upon you by the imperial family are yours for the taking!”
Prince Mordred’s words ignited a fire, and the knights swallowed hard.
It was like before.
When Dale faced the ‘Tower’s Trial’ alone in the Black Tower, and all the participants in the battle royale turned him into a common enemy.
“Do you not need to use an avatar?” Dale asked during the standoff.
“Even if this is a culling, those challengers are fighting for their lives. Denying them the full power of a knight is absurd.”
He maintained his composure as if the situation was in the palm of his hand.
“Are you planning to use an avatar too?”
“My life is on the line as well,” Dale replied with a cold smile. “And I intend to use ‘magic’ from now on.”
His words caused a ripple of gasps.
“What, what did you say…?”
“Magic! You despicable scoundrel!”
The challengers raised their voices in disbelief, and Dale turned his head.
“Using an avatar is akin to utilizing the full power of a sword. For those strong enough to vie for the title of the Seven Swords of the Continent, their power is not limited to ‘aura alone.’ Isn’t that right, Sir Sephilia?”
He addressed the Seventh Prince Mordred and the ‘Ghost Sword Sephilia’ behind him.
”…”
“I’m not confronting you as a magician. I’m a swordsman who uses aura. I’m merely using magic as well, just as Sir Sephilia does.”
“How do you know…!”
“Even walls have ears, as they say.”
There was no way for Dale of Saxony to know the true nature of the Ghost Sword Sephilia. But the hero from another world did. Thus, he spoke of her power, and a chilling aura shadowed Sephilia’s expression.
“He’s right.”
Prince Mordred nodded.
“Everyone here, you are permitted to use your full strength against the ‘Black Prince.’ Even if it means resorting to underhanded and dishonorable methods, you will not be held accountable.”
“Thank you very much.”
The ‘Black Prince’ smiled coldly at those words. Soon, the dozens of challengers facing him began to project the ultimate essence of their swordsmanship.
“The fortunate thing about a sword trial is that victory doesn’t need to be ‘proven in front of everyone.’”
Dale smiled as he adjusted his grip on his sword.
”…!”
The Ghost Sword Sephilia’s expression froze in shock as she grasped the meaning. But faster than that, the challengers surrounding Dale vanished.
Into the world of thought that the ‘Black Prince’ had unfolded, a world of light and darkness.
“Your Highness…!”
Sephilia, left behind, tried to speak in dismay. But at that moment—
“Oh, come on, lady.”
Master Baro chuckled. He infused his drawn sword with a blood-red aura, exuding a menacing presence.
“As everyone saw, Prince Dale is wielding a sword and using aura. Hell, he’s already an Aura Master, so whether he unfolds a world of thought or summons spirits, it doesn’t matter a damn bit, does it?”
“He’s right. None of us Seven Swords rely solely on the sword alone,” the Wandering Sword added with a shrug.
Sephilia started to speak but then fell silent.
For someone of her caliber, or at least among the Seven Swords present, entering the ‘world of thought’ Dale had unfolded wouldn’t be too difficult. The world of thought isn’t a coliseum that completely excludes external intrusion.
Anyone who can imbue their sword with thought can tear through and enter.
But Sephilia didn’t do so.
It wasn’t hard to predict the outcome unfolding in that world.
Entering is easy, but leaving is not. Even the greatest swordsman couldn’t easily peer into the abyss. Paradoxically, as a fellow magician, she understood. The shadow lord before him possessed a power beyond her imagination.
It was a nature far surpassing what Sephilia had envisioned when Philip proposed the idea.
A monster for whom even the title of the empire’s greatest genius was insufficient.
That was the shadow lord’s existence, and it was this being who was unfolding his world.
It was something that could hardly be called a battle.
A white and dark winter night. A fortress rose within the primordial darkness and icy chill of the universe’s winter.
It was a fortress made of jet-black tendrils, and it became a weapon, ravaging the knights who had reached the level of avatars.
Just as the Undying Duke Frederick had annihilated the first holy army led by Prince Mordred.
A god was there.
Not a god who didn’t love humans. The god’s presence there clearly loved humanity.
But the ‘humans’ this god thought of were vastly different from the biological definition of humans.
Even if Shub was a god who loved humans, to her, they were not humans.
“Save me!”
“Aaaah!”
“Sister gods! Hee hee, hee hee!”
The shadow lord sat upon the throne of the obsidian fortress.
His sword was planted in the ground, unmoving.
With an expression devoid of any emotion, he merely looked down at the uninvited guests of the fortress.
In the great hall of the fortress, countless aura master knights were being reduced to mere prey. It wasn’t Dale’s sword. It wasn’t even a creation of magic or necromancy.
They were merely becoming playthings for the god beside the shadow lord.
─ Hahaha!
Screams echoed, and some broke into tears after futile resistance. But the shadow lord paid no heed.
“Foolish beings.”
From the obsidian throne, the shadow lord spoke, as if in disbelief.
“Was this all you had?”
In a voice devoid of any emotion, he spoke.
“Do you truly claim to be the greatest swordsmen on this continent?”
No answer came. The stone walls, the carpets, and every decoration of this fortress were ultimately part of the “Book of the Black Goat,” and as long as Dale existed as a knight wielding aura, there was no room for breaking the rules.
Resistance was futile. Even if they had reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, becoming avatars of their blades, it made no difference.
Those participating in the trial of the sword, among them the five remaining swords.
Their mastery was not achieved by the sword alone. Just as the Sword Master Baro possessed the supernatural ability to manipulate his aura, so did the Ghost Blade Sephilia, and the Mad Blade Helmut was no exception.
Thus, this battle was never purely a “fight among aura-wielding swordsmen.”
Knowing this, Dale was more than willing to unleash his prowess as a sorcerer.
After all, no one cared about the lives of these participants.
In the end, the true test of skill in the trial of the sword was reserved for the elite few, and Dale’s role was merely to filter out the unworthy.
“Kneel.”
From his throne of black and gold, Dale commanded. Instantly, the tendrils and malice poised to crush them halted.
Less than thirty percent of the participants remained standing.
And they understood, with a chilling clarity, that defying the “Black Prince” here meant certain death.
Thud!
“Please, spare us!”
One knight fell to his knees, pleading, thrusting his sword into the ground in a gesture of submission.
Before them, the Shadow Lord remained silent, unmoved.
“What are you willing to do to survive?”
After a pause, Dale asked again.
“Anything you ask…!”
“I’ll do anything! Please, spare my life!”
“I swear eternal loyalty! Please, forgive me!”
With no hope of escape, the knights cried out in desperation. At their words, the Shadow Lord finally smiled.
It was a deeply ominous smile.