Episode 264
Chapter 84: The Spark (Part 1)
He had returned from his training.
At those words, everyone gathered in the Garden of Blades flinched as if lightning had struck right before their eyes.
All eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of this audacious fugitive.
Those watching Jin—pureblood Runkandels, including the elders and family retainers—had never experienced a moment more shocking than this.
How could he be so brazen? Both of the two great houses that divided the world had issued a death warrant against him, yet here he was, walking straight into the lion’s den.
“Seize him! Where does he think he is?”
The elders and brothers wanted to shout in unison.
Under normal circumstances, they certainly would have. But instinctively, they all knew better.
No one dared speak before Siron.
Even Rosa struggled to suppress her astonishment, carefully reading the atmosphere around Siron.
And naturally, she expected Siron to cut Jin down.
Just as every other pureblood did.
Jin, having dismounted from Murakan’s back, straightened his posture and looked up at Siron.
Siron met his youngest son’s gaze without a word.
In the terrifying silence—so intense that no one dared even breathe—no one could read the thoughts shared between father and son.
Jin’s eyes shone with a brilliance that seemed to say he feared nothing in the world.
Siron’s gaze was deep, marked by wrinkles, hiding an intense, burning emotion he had never before experienced in his life.
The feeling of a father looking upon his grown son.
The joy that his son had become the strongest, most exceptional man in the world, standing proudly before him—not a delusion born of a father’s hope, but a certainty.
Though he had fathered thirteen children, only Luna had ever filled his heart with such pride. Yet Luna had ultimately betrayed his expectations by abandoning the throne.
After Luna, the other eleven children had seemed like stones to him. But when Jin finally emerged, he saw a small spark.
And that spark had now grown into an uncontrollable blaze—a single great fire—rushing to engulf the Garden of Blades.
A fire that would burn down the sacred grounds of the Sword Ghosts, reigniting this lukewarm graveyard of swords into a roaring inferno!
Magnificent.
Siron’s brief but powerful emotion went unnoticed by Jin and the others.
Seconds passed, and Jin too was caught in a strange sensation.
Though thousands of warriors and eleven brothers surrounded them, it felt as if he were facing his father alone.
And among them all, only Siron Runkandel was the one Jin felt he must surpass.
Of course, there were many warriors stronger than Jin here—Luna, Rosa, the Black Knights—but they were all figures he believed he could inevitably overcome someday.
Only his father was different.
Surpassing him would require not just inevitability, but a will strong enough to defy fate itself.
“I will transcend, and transcend again, until I surpass you.”
The father and son each swallowed their thoughts silently.
Siron was the first to react.
With a soft rustle, he drew his sword from his waist.
The very sword Jin had chosen during his selection ceremony in his past and present lives—the white blade of Barisada, the treasured sword of the first head of the family, Temar Runkandel—caught the sunlight.
As Siron summoned his energy, the cadets suddenly collapsed to the ground.
Their legs had given out. No cadet could withstand the overwhelming aura Siron radiated.
The lower-ranked guardian knights trembled violently, barely able to maintain their stance, while the mid-ranked knights cursed inwardly to resist being crushed by the force.
Only the youngest cadets were permitted the “privilege” of collapsing before Siron’s gaze.
Except for the Tona brothers, the riders, Black Knights, Execution Knights, senior guardian knights, elders, and Rosa all maintained their composure.
Jin bristled with fighting spirit, ready to counterattack.
“Here it comes—the father’s sword.”
He could receive his father’s strike.
Since his first visit to Laprarosa, Jin had carried a quiet confidence.
After nearly ten thousand deaths, he had realized he could block half of the strike of a divine blade, and had even proven it to the former Black Knight Vanessa Olson.
But what Siron was preparing now was undoubtedly a different kind of strike.
Not a light, casual cut or slash, but a strike weighted with the achievements of the demigod Siron Runkandel.
It descended very slowly—slow enough for even a three-year-old child to notice, slow enough that anyone could step aside with ease.
There was no sound of wind slicing through the air. Barisada simply tilted downward like a slowly sinking ship.
But who could dare call that sword slow?
Even a warrior not yet at the pinnacle would think of only one word upon seeing Siron’s blade:
Divine Technique.
A realm seemingly possible only through godly power.
A sword that defied human logic and the laws of nature.
When Barisada came within two spans of Jin, he took a deep breath.
His entire body was already soaked in sweat. Every muscle was taut and swollen, every bone and vein radiating a hardened aura.
Without summoning all his strength, he could not hope to withstand this slow, unpredictable strike.
With a sharp hiss, the pale blade of Sigmund slid from its sheath, crackling with condensed lightning energy.
Jin gripped Sigmund with both hands, angling the blade to block Barisada.
The two swords would meet in a few seconds.
In that moment before collision, everyone in the Garden of Blades was flooded with countless thoughts.
“Jin…!”
Luna worried whether her youngest brother could hold out.
“Father is certain that he can receive your sword!”
Joshua trembled with a foreboding feeling. His youngest brother, who had become his rival, would surely survive and press a blade to his own throat.
Most of the brothers shared Joshua’s sentiment.
After all, the youngest—still a mere candidate, still marked for death—had returned to challenge the throne of swords, eyes blazing as he faced the final trial.
“If he blocks this sword, all his past transgressions will be forgiven… Siron, do you truly intend to plunge the Runkandel family into the flames of chaos?”
Rosa Runkandel’s eyes narrowed.
She too cared for her youngest son, believing him to be an excellent successor after Joshua.
Had he not rebelled—or even if his rebellion was limited to spiritual energy and magic, kept secret from outsiders—she would have made him the next head without question.
But now that his defiance was public, Rosa was convinced the family must abandon him.
“…Even so, I cannot deny the head’s judgment. The will of the Runkandel head must be absolute and unyielding, now and forever.”
If she questioned the head’s decision now, it would mean the same could happen when Joshua became head.
It would undermine the absolute authority of the family head.
That was why she had pushed to make Joshua head as soon as possible—because she believed no one else could protect the Runkandel family like he could.
No one could replace Joshua.
“There are many enemies. The future of Runkandel is dark, with no place to retreat. So why do you hesitate…?”
As Rosa bit her lower lip, Barisada and Sigmund’s blades met.
Clang.
Steel struck steel with a sound so cautious it was like cracking eggshells.
Siron did not lower his sword, and Jin’s eyes, bloodshot from burst capillaries, snapped open wide.
Blood trickled from his ears and lips.
The energy within Barisada surged through Jin’s body like heat conduction, stirring a tidal wave in his veins, shattering bones and organs with agonizing pain.
Yet Jin held his stance firmly.
Siron’s aura circulated through Jin’s body, spreading into the ground.
Crack!
The earth trembled, the ground beneath them crumbled, yawning open.
From the fissure, a brilliant light shot upward endlessly—Siron’s aura contained within Barisada.
Within that rising aura, pale lightning crackled, proving how desperately Jin fought against his father’s sword.
No one here could have endured that strike without absolute resolve.
The youngest Runkandel had withstood it.
The torrent of aura slowly subsided.
Siron’s gaze rested on his still-standing son and the black dragon glaring behind him.
“A truly magnificent guardian dragon.”
“A damn relentless father.”
Their contrasting thoughts passed between Siron and Murakan.
Suddenly, Jin coughed up a mouthful of black blood, staggering briefly.
Ah…!
In that moment, everyone—those who loved Jin, those who opposed him, and even the curious onlookers—let out a collective sigh.
Because if he fell now, it would be over.
If Jin collapsed now, his name would remain forever etched on the Rune Kandel assassination list.
“Graaah!”
Planting his sword into the ground to steady himself, Jin let out a roar.
Graaah! Aaaah!
Like a madman, he pounded his own chest with his fists, screaming out in sheer desperation. His agonized roar, a refusal to accept defeat, sent ripples through the Garden of Blades.
At last, Jin rose again and faced Siron.
He was utterly battered, but it was clear he still clung to a thread of consciousness.
Seeing this, Siron allowed himself the faintest smile—for the first time.
It lasted only a moment, but everyone nearby caught it clearly.
How much meaning was packed into that single smile.
It was Siron’s silent declaration that Jin, the “Demon Swordsman,” had passed the final trial to enter the Garden of Blades.
Luna nearly choked back tears, overwhelmed with emotion, and even those not close to Jin felt their hearts ease.
The smile vanished, and Siron’s voice turned cold and businesslike.
“Send Rider Jin Rune Kandel to the medical team. Once he awakens, we will proceed with the formal Rider appointment ceremony.”
Jin collapsed only after Siron finished speaking.