Chapter 205

The world of thought vanished, and the Shadow Lord stood there.

At the peak of the Blade Mountains stood the Sword Pavilion, where blades gathered to conceal the continent’s finest sword.

“……!”

As the Shadow Lord had declared from the black-gold throne, the swords of the empire knelt in allegiance.

Yet none of them were alive. For loyalty to the Shadow Lord, the ‘Black Prince’, life itself was unnecessary.

The Death Knight.

The flesh-and-bone corpses, imbued with cold and darkness, were the army of the Death Knight, embodying the winter of the universe.

“What… how…! All those Oru Masters!”

Seeing this, Philip of Brandenburg collapsed weakly onto his backside. The sword-eared Sephelia also quietly held her breath, but neither she nor the two princes showed any great panic. Rather, they remained silent, as if they had expected this outcome.

“So it had to come to this, after all.”

“…My apologies, Prince Lancelot.”

“No, it is not your fault.”

The sword-handled pen bowed its head, and the First Prince Lancelot shook his head. The Seventh Prince Mordred spoke up.

“Whoever that idiot brat was who spouted such absurd nonsense, the blame lies squarely with that brat.”

“Your Highness!”

Philip swallowed his bewilderment and glanced around.

Beside him, the Knights of Saint Magdalene overseeing the sword trial likewise showed no attempt to hide their disappointment—their faint hopes shattered, their expressions clearly saying, ‘We knew it would come to this.’

It was at that very moment.

“S-Saintly Maiden!”

Philip raised his voice as if something had occurred to him.

“The Holy Maiden is but a former serf!”

“……”

“But our proud House of Brandenburg is not like that! Above all, we possess the venerable tradition of wielding the sacred sword Durandal through generations! Therefore, by the Holy Maiden marrying me, we shall form an alliance beyond compare!”

The lord of the proud count’s house shouted at the mere serf.

“The Holy Maiden and I—we shall be the perfect match for the vessel of the holy sword! Our child will be no different!”

“……”

“So please, let me be your savior! The prestige of this count’s house will be yours!”

It was no different from a mere nobleman coaxing a serf to be his plaything.

Even Dale, listening, was too ashamed to lift his head at such a disgraceful spectacle. But for the pure white maiden, it would never end as mere disgrace.

Shrill.

“Hiiik!”

The hilt of the sacred sword was aimed directly at Philip’s throat.

“Keep spouting that nonsense, and you’ll end up like a pig hanging in the slaughterhouse.”

Not a shred of mercy or compassion lingered in that voice, and Philip’s expression froze, turning pale.

“Your… Highness! What of His Highness, the Duke of Lancaster!”

Philip cried out again, grasping at straws.

“We have a common enemy! That wicked ‘Black Prince’ took our beloved family from us! Prince Mikhail, and my father! How can you remain so calm in the presence of that detestable man!”

But Heavenly Sword remained silent, his expression devoid of even a trace of emotion.

As if it weren’t even worth answering, yet with a murderous intent that made it clear any further nonsense would never be forgiven.

“I have no desire to waste my strength on this meaningless quarrel any longer.”

After a silence, the Duke of Lancaster of the Thousand Swords spoke.

“After all, we are gathered here to prove our swordsmanship, and furthermore, to determine who is worthy of the vacant ‘Two Swords’ title.”

“Indeed, Your Highness, Duke Lancaster.”

Dale nodded, and the Heavenly Sword glanced around.

After the Divine Sword’s demise, he is officially the strongest knight possessing the might of the continent’s foremost sword.

“I hereby challenge the Divine Sword’s supremacy in this very place.”

He drew his sword once more. The Heavenly Sword. Even during the War of the Roses when his son died, and even when the ‘Black Prince’ allied with York and used his schemes to bring the House of Lancaster to ruin, the Heavenly Sword remained silent until the very end.

But that was never because the Heavenly Sword was foolish.

During the Unification War, he could only watch as his one and only friend, ‘Shin-geom,’ died. It was because of the vow he made afterward never to use his sword as a tool for glory and desire.

Even if that vow had driven his son to his death, nothing would have changed.

“O swords of mine, is there any among you who will cross blades with me?”

Speaking thus, the Duke of Lancaster, the Heavenly Sword, surveyed his surroundings. The Ear Sword, Sephelia, along with the Light Sword, the Killing Sword, and the Wandering Sword, all remained silent.

Only among swordsmen bearing the name of the Seven Swords can one challenge for the position of the Divine Sword. Yet none present dared to think of defying the sword of the Duke of Lancaster.

“Oh dear, I’ll bow my head low before the new Divine Sword, sir.”

Sword Master Baro shrugged his shoulders exaggeratedly.

“So with this, the positions of the Heavenly Sword and the Sacred Sword are vacant once more.”

Having somehow become the one leading this situation, the ‘Duke of Lancaster’ asked.

“Is there anyone among the existing swordsmen who desires the new sword rank?”

“Heh heh, it’s quite satisfying to see these little bastards sharing a single crown among themselves.”

Master Baro chuckled again at the sight. He was right. For the existing four swords, there was no reason to bring in a new sword master to take their place.

“Then, is there anyone who wishes to claim the two vacant sword ranks?”

The Duke of Lancaster, the Divine Sword, asked again.

He addressed the remaining testers in the Sword Hall… including the Holy Maiden Aurelia, the two princes, and also Dale and Charlotte.

And then it happened.

Swoosh.

“Um, Charlotte Orhart.”

At last, breaking the silence, Charlotte Orhart drew her sword.

“As the proud daughter of the noble swordmaster, Lord Bader Orhart, and one of the Seven Swords of the Continent, I dare to place my name upon the ‘Heavenly Sword’s Swordmaster’ title.”

At last, a bidder appeared for the vacant position. Dale glanced at the two princes. Yet neither of them sought to claim Charlotte’s title.

“Dale of Saxony.”

Therefore, Dale also broke the silence and spoke.

“I too wish to have my name inscribed upon the ‘Heavenly Sword’s’ title.”

“……!”

Even before reaching maturity, she crossed swords with him in Saxony’s ducal castle, and later swore allegiance to Dale. To the lady who then left her lord’s side to hone her own blade.

Even if the process was hastily administered, the weight of bearing the name of the Seven Swords was never light.

Even without the grand ceremony of a ‘Sword Trial,’ she inevitably faced constant challenges from knights seeking to prove their swords against the Seven Swords. It was only natural that all eyes would turn to her on the battlefield as well.

But just as the empire’s foremost genius, the ‘Black Prince,’ was no exception, neither would Charlotte Orhart, heir to the bloodline of the Divine Sword, be an exception.

She possessed the right to wield the sword.

“Charlotte Orhart, Knight of the Heavenly Sword, and Prince Dale of Saxony have posted their names on the Heavenly Sword’s ranking board.”

Having said that much, the Grand Duke of Lancaster spoke.

“Then next, is there anyone who will place their name upon the Holy Sword’s seat?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Sword Master of the Sacred Sword, Aurelia, drew her blade.

At that very moment, another voice was heard.

“The First Imperial Prince, Lancelot.”

At last, the Crown Prince, ranked first in the empire and bearing the emblem of the twin-headed dragon, spoke.

“I too shall inscribe my name upon the hilt of the Sacred Sword.”

The sword of the goddess, said to have been blessed by the goddess Sistina.

‘Was this the goal all along?’

Only then did it become clear why the First Imperial Prince, Lancelot, had participated in the sword’s trial.

His prowess, leading the Iron Cross Knights—the emperor’s personal knightly order—went without saying. Though he himself had shown no ambition for the title of one of the Seven Swords, everyone agreed his skill matched that of the Seven Swords.

And finally, the man broke the silence.

Because he understood the meaning behind the act of obtaining the Sword of God.

“Two shall contend for the title of Heavenly Sword, and two shall contend for the title of Sacred Sword.”

The Duke of Lancaster, the only one who had claimed the name of the Divine Sword without resistance, spoke.

“No, wait.”

It was at that very moment.

“Come to think of it, I don’t see why I should just sit around twiddling my thumbs either.”

The Seventh Prince, Mordred, who had been silent, spoke up mockingly.

“I shall have my name placed upon the throne of the Heavenly Sword as well.”

It wasn’t hard to discern his intent. He had planned to wait until Dale’s fate was decided, then make his move.

“Frankly speaking, I have no interest whatsoever in some girl who claims to be the daughter of the Divine Sword.”

“……!”

“But I have business with that ‘Black Prince’ over there.”

“Gladly.”

Dale smiled indifferently, as if he’d expected it.

“You are aware of the rule governing the execution of the trial when an odd number of candidates remain—specifically, exactly three, correct?”

“The Rule of Three.”

Duke Lancaster of the Divine Sword spoke, and Dale answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“Two of the three fight, while the Divine Sword directly confronts the remaining one to exhaust their stamina.”

After that, the victor of the initial duel and the one the Divine Sword spared would face off again to determine the final victor. This ensured neither could unfairly conserve strength.

“Then I shall determine who faces the Divine Sword and who engages in the direct duel.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Dale shook his head coldly. Leaving Charlotte behind, who was quietly gathering her resolve, he turned his head directly toward Mordred.

“What do you say, Prince Mordred?”

“I knew you’d come out swinging from the start.”

Dale drew his sword with stoic calm. The jet-black demon sword, Gya.

Simultaneously, as with the other Seven Swords, for swordsmen of this caliber, their weapons were never merely a single aura.

Behind the ‘Black Prince’, the Death Knights of darkness and cold, loyal to him, re-gripped their sword hilts.

At last, the circle of the heart began to rotate, unleashing its full power without the slightest reservation.

Simultaneously, through the mana circuit connected via Shuv’s tentacles, the Aura Heart also began to boil and bubble.

Black-red-blue magic power and aura swirled like a whirlwind, centered at the Shadow Lord’s feet.

He remembered the Seventh Prince Mordred from the Crusade that had once raged in the Demon King’s Realm of Saxony. At least back then, he was no match for Dale. Realistically speaking, things wouldn’t be much different now.

But that was no reason to let his guard down.

“I sincerely hope you’ve managed to overcome the trauma of that day.”

Knowing that fact, Dale sneered coldly.

“The nightmare of losing your entire unit before the darkness of the demon realm, Prince, and escaping alone in utter misery.”

“……”

At those words, all emotion vanished from Mordred’s expression for a moment.

The image of the evil god encountered at the edge of the Demon King’s domain that day surfaced involuntarily.

The being who, with a single gesture, annihilated his entire unit and dragged them beyond the heavens.

─ Why do you not reveal yourself, child of the dragon?

─ Ah, well now. Wasn’t it a dragon… Not that it matters.

─ The silence of the shadows ends here. Return, child of the shadows. And wait for the time that is ours.

That day, amidst the Mass of Madness, he recalled the immortal craftsman Frederick staring back at him. He recalled the sensation of the horrific tentacles erupting from his mouth, sliding like leeches into Mordred’s throat.

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

It was at that very moment that the jet-black tentacles burst forth from the throat of the Seventh Prince, Mordred.