Episode 205
The realm of thought vanished, leaving the Shadow Lord in its place.
At the peak of the Blade Mountains stood the Hall of Swords, where the greatest swords of the continent gathered to determine the finest among them.
”…!”
As the Shadow Lord had decreed from his obsidian throne, the Empire’s swords knelt in allegiance. Yet, none among them were alive. Loyalty to the Shadow Lord, the ‘Black Prince,’ required no such triviality as life.
Death Knights.
A legion of skeletal warriors imbued with cold and darkness, the winter of the universe itself.
“H-how could this be…! All those Aura Masters!”
Philip of Brandenburg fell back in shock. The Ghost Blade, Sephilia, quietly swallowed her breath, but neither she nor the two princes were overly surprised. They remained silent, as if they had expected this outcome.
“It was inevitable, wasn’t it?”
”…I apologize, Prince Lancelot.”
“No, it’s not your fault.”
Sephilia bowed her head, and the First Prince, Lancelot, shook his head. The Seventh Prince, Mordred, chimed in.
“Whoever spread those ridiculous rumors should be blamed, not you.”
“Y-your Highness!”
Philip looked around, swallowing his confusion.
The Knights of St. Magdalena, who oversaw the sword trials, also showed no surprise, as if they had anticipated this all along.
It was then that Philip seemed to remember something.
“Saintess!”
He raised his voice.
“The Saintess was born a mere serf!”
”…”
“But our proud House of Brandenburg is not! We have a long tradition of wielding the holy sword Durandal! If the Saintess were to marry me, it would forge an unparalleled alliance!”
A nobleman of a proud count’s house shouted at a woman of humble origins.
“The Saintess and I would be the perfect match for the holy sword! Our children would be as well!”
”…”
“So please, allow me to be your savior! The might of this count’s house will be yours!”
It was a plea that barely masked the condescension of a nobleman trying to manipulate a serf.
Even Dale, who was listening, felt embarrassed enough to avert his eyes. But for the pure Saintess, it was more than just an embarrassment.
Srrng.
“Eek!”
The holy sword Durandal was suddenly aimed at Philip’s throat.
“If you continue to spout nonsense, you’ll find yourself hanging like a pig in a slaughterhouse.”
Her voice was devoid of mercy or compassion, and Philip’s face turned pale.
“W-what about the Grand Duke of Lancaster, the Celestial Sword?”
Philip grasped at straws, raising his voice again.
“We have a common enemy! That vile ‘Black Prince’ took our beloved family members! Prince Michael, and my father! How can you remain so calm in the face of such hatred?”
But the Celestial Sword remained silent, his expression devoid of any emotion.
As if to say it wasn’t worth responding to, yet with a silent warning that further nonsense would not be tolerated.
“I don’t wish to waste any more energy on meaningless disputes.”
After a long silence, the Grand Duke of Lancaster finally spoke.
“We are gathered here to prove our worth as swordsmen, to find those worthy of the vacant titles of the ‘Two Swords.’”
“Indeed, Your Grace.”
Dale nodded, and the Celestial Sword glanced around.
The strongest knight, officially recognized as the continent’s greatest swordsman after the death of the Divine Sword.
“I hereby challenge for the title of the Divine Sword.”
He drew his sword once more. The Celestial Sword, which had remained silent even during the War of the Roses when his son died, and when the ‘Black Prince’ allied with York to bring down the House of Lancaster.
But it wasn’t because the Celestial Sword was a fool.
He had witnessed the death of his only friend, the Divine Sword, during the Unification War, and had vowed never to use his sword for personal gain.
Even if that vow had led to his son’s death, it changed nothing.
“Swords of the Seven, is there anyone among you who wishes to challenge me?”
The Grand Duke of Lancaster looked around. The Ghost Blade Sephilia, the Light Blade, the Killing Blade, and the Wandering Blade all remained silent.
Only those bearing the name of the Seven Swords could challenge for the Divine Sword’s title. But none present dared to oppose the Grand Duke’s sword.
“Well, I’ll bow my head to the new Divine Sword.”
The Killing Blade Master, Baro, shrugged exaggeratedly.
“So now both the Celestial Sword and the Holy Sword positions are vacant.”
The Grand Duke of Lancaster, now leading the proceedings, asked.
“Is there anyone among the existing swords who wishes to claim a new title?”
“Ha, it’s amusing to see the privileged few dividing the spoils among themselves.”
Master Baro chuckled again. He was right. The existing four swords had no reason to relinquish their positions for a new title.
“Then, is there anyone who wishes to claim the vacant titles?”
The Divine Sword, the Grand Duke of Lancaster, asked again.
The remaining challengers in the Hall of Swords… the Saintess Aurelia, the two princes, Dale, and Charlotte.
And then it happened.
Srrng.
“I, Charlotte Orhart.”
Breaking the silence, Charlotte Orhart drew her sword.
“As the daughter of the proud Divine Sword, Sir Vardel Orhart, I dare to claim the title of the ‘Celestial Sword’ among the Seven Swords of the continent.”
Finally, a contender for the vacant position emerged. Dale glanced at the two princes. But neither of them sought to claim Charlotte’s title.
“Dale of Saxony.”
Thus, Dale also broke his silence.
“I, too, wish to claim the title of the ‘Celestial Sword.’”
”…!”
From before they were even aware of the world, they had crossed swords at the Saxon ducal house, and the female knight had sworn loyalty to Dale. Afterward, she had left her lord’s side to hone her skills.
Even if the process was hasty, bearing the name of the Seven Swords was no trivial matter.
Without the pretense of a ‘sword trial,’ they would constantly face challenges from knights seeking to prove themselves against the Seven Swords. On the battlefield, attention would naturally follow.
But just as the Empire’s greatest genius, the ‘Black Prince,’ was, so too was Charlotte Orhart, who inherited the blood of the Divine Sword.
She was worthy of wielding a sword.
“Charlotte Orhart and Prince Dale of Saxony have been entered for the title of the Celestial Sword.”
After saying this, the Grand Duke of Lancaster continued.
“Next, is there anyone who wishes to claim the title of the Holy Sword?”
Without hesitation, the Holy Sword’s master, Aurelia, drew her sword.
At the same time, another voice spoke.
“The First Prince of the Empire, Lancelot.”
Finally, the highest-ranking prince of the Empire, marked with the emblem of the twin dragons, spoke.
“I, too, will claim the title of the Holy Sword.”
The goddess’s sword, said to be blessed by the goddess Sistina.
‘So this was his goal all along.’
It finally became clear why the First Prince Lancelot had participated in the sword trial.
He already led the Emperor’s direct order of knights, the Iron Cross Knights, and his prowess was unquestioned. Though he had not sought the name of the Seven Swords, everyone agreed that his skill was on par with them.
And finally, he broke his silence.
Understanding the significance of claiming the divine sword.
“Two contenders for the Celestial Sword, and two for the Holy Sword.”
The Grand Duke of Lancaster, who had claimed the name of the Divine Sword without resistance, spoke.
“Wait, hold on.”
It was then.
“On second thought, there’s no reason for me to just sit back and watch.”
The Seventh Prince, Mordred, spoke with a mocking tone.
“I’ll also put my name forward for the Celestial Sword.”
His intentions were clear. He had been waiting to see where Dale would stand, intending to challenge him.
“Frankly, I have no interest in some girl claiming to be the Divine Sword’s daughter.”
”…!”
“But I do have some business with the ‘Black Prince’ over there.”
“Gladly.”
Dale smiled calmly, as if he had expected this.
“You are aware of the rules for conducting the trial with an odd number of contestants, specifically three, aren’t you?”
“The Rule of Three.”
The Divine Sword, the Grand Duke of Lancaster, spoke, and Dale responded without hesitation.
“Two of the three will fight, and the remaining one will face the Divine Sword directly, exhausting their strength.”
After the duel, the victor and the one who faced the divine sword would clash again to determine the ultimate winner. This ensured that no one could unfairly conserve their strength.
“Then, let’s decide who will face the divine sword and who will engage in the duel directly.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Dale shook his head coldly. Leaving Charlotte, who was quietly steeling herself, he turned his gaze directly to Mordred.
“What do you say, Prince Mordred?”
“I expected nothing less from the start.”
Dale unsheathed his sword with a calm demeanor. The black demon sword, Giah, gleamed ominously.
For swordsmen of this caliber, their weapons were never just about aura. Behind the ‘Black Prince,’ death knights loyal to the darkness and coldness adjusted their grips on their hilts.
Finally, to unleash his full, unrestrained power, the circle of his heart began to spin.
Simultaneously, through the mana circuits connected by Shub’s tendrils, his aura heart started to boil.
The black, red, and blue magic and aura swirled like a vortex around the Shadow Lord’s feet.
During the Crusades in the Demon King’s territory of Saxon, the memory of the seventh prince, Mordred, lingered. Back then, he was no match for Dale. Frankly, not much had changed now.
Yet, that was no reason to let his guard down.
“I hope you’ve managed to overcome the trauma of that day.”
Dale, aware of this, sneered icily.
“Facing the darkness of the demon realm, losing your entire unit, and fleeing alone in disgrace.”
”…”
At those words, Mordred’s expression went blank for a moment.
That day, at the edge of the Demon King’s territory, the image of the evil god he encountered flashed in his mind.
A being that, with a mere gesture, annihilated his entire unit and dragged them beyond the heavens.
─ Why do you not reveal yourself, child of the dragon?
─ Ah, well. Not a dragon, was it… That’s not so bad either.
─ The silence of the shadows ends here. Return, child of shadows. And wait for the time meant for us.
He recalled the mad gaze of the immortal priest Frederick, who watched him amidst the chaos. The sensation of the dreadful tendrils emerging from Frederick’s mouth, sliding down Mordred’s throat like leeches, came back to him.
Sssshhh!
At that moment, a black tendril shot out from the throat of the seventh prince, Mordred.