Shortly after the conclusion of the fight between Rygar and Gall Farion, the Sword Sanctuary plunged into absolute chaos.
However, before the disorder could reach greater proportions, Emperors Timothy and Clint acted with resolve and dispelled most of the confusion.
But the truth is that a rift had arisen.
Almost everyone who came to the Sword Sanctuary did so primarily because of Gall Farion.
He was the reason. The greatest swordsman alive. The Sixth among the Seven Great World Powers. A legendary existence, one rarely found in the flesh.
And yet, on that day, Gall Farion was dethroned. Not by betrayal. Not by an ambush. But by a fair duel. By a sixteen-year-old youth.
Rygar, the Beast God, bearer of overwhelming strength and techniques honed to the brink of the impossible.
He came from the Great Forest, crossed the central continent in its entirety, and faced and defeated every opponent who dared stand in his way.
And at the pinnacle of the world of the sword, he defeated the invincible.
Anyone in the Sword Sanctuary knew that Rygar would soon return to the Great Forest, since the Sacred country of Millis was in direct conflict with the Iron Legion that he led.
But before departing, Rygar declared that he would accept any challenger on his homeland, the Great Forest, to try to claim his place as the Sixth among the Seven Powers.
And he announced that he would be accepting disciples to train under the new style he had created, the Beast God Style.
Those words echoed among many of the swordsmen present, still in shock from the fight; they felt their hearts pound with renewed ambition.
The strongest would be followed, no matter where he was. The Sword Sanctuary might have been the hub of tradition, but now Gall Farion had been defeated.
It would be different if Rygar were planning to stay, but he wasn't.
Still, there was tension. Many of those loyal to Gall Farion remained silent. After all, Gall was still alive. And technically, he was still the Sword God.
Rygar, for his part, did not celebrate his victory over Gall Farion in grand fashion.
He trained as if it were any other day, while preparing everything to depart the next morning.
For him, defeating his master was a source of pride, but he wouldn't go around flaunting it.
Gall Farion had trained him for three years. And one could say they had become friends during that time.
And although Rygar was now stronger, he was still the Sword God.
It was that very day that the Water Emperor, Vinnar Yellowsnake, formalized the creation of the Beast God Style.
For the first time in four hundred years, a new style was recognized alongside the consecrated ones: the Sword God Style, the Water God Style, and the North God Style.
It was an achievement few dared to dream of. Many warriors throughout history had created unique styles, but none of them had ever managed to spread them to the point of being internationally recognized.
The Beast God Style, with its precision and wild movements, would be the first to break that barrier in centuries — and would likely become a combat art exclusive to the Iron Legion.
Officially recognized by Gall Farion, the Sword God; by Reida Reia, the Water God; and by the two North Emperors, Ornthorn and Auber Covertte.
With those names backing its approval, the new style was now inevitably inserted into the global scene.
With the formalities concluded, Vinnar Yellowsnake left the Sword Sanctuary.
Other warriors and messengers from different realms also departed, carrying stories to tell and reports to deliver. The world had taken a new turn that day.
Melina, the mage sent by the Kingdom of Neris, sought out Aisha, wishing to make her her disciple. She saw in the girl an unparalleled magical talent.
But Aisha, without hesitation, refused in front of everyone, saying that she already had an incredible master. Melina sincerely congratulated Rygar, but in her eyes there was a trace of frustration.
And so, she too departed.
----
POV: Rygar Adoldia
"Eris! Are you ready?!"
"I'm coming!"
Leaving the house that had been ours for a full three years, a red-haired girl emerged carrying a backpack with one strap slung over her shoulder.
Her hair was tied in a ponytail, and she looked full of energy.
"I'm ready!" she announced with a smile. Then she looked around. "Where is Aisha?"
Ghislaine, who was at my side also carrying a small backpack, replied:
"She said she was going to give her last instructions to her subordinates in the city..." She furrowed her brow, puzzled.
"When did she even get those subordinates? Was it you, Rygar?"
I smiled bitterly and replied.
"I have no idea. Aisha seems to have created some sort of branch of the Iron Legion in the city... which, come to think of it, is a good thing. So I didn't stop her."
Eris laughed. "She even asked me to go beat up some bandits the other day!"
Ghislaine thought for a moment before commenting:
"She said she would meet us in the Ephemeral Hall..."
I nodded. "Okay, let's go then."
After formalizing the Beast God Style yesterday, I trained and returned home as if it were any ordinary day.
I respected Gall Farion, and I didn't want him to feel humiliated after being defeated by me.
He was still the Sword God, and with his knowledge and power, he would be a great ally if we were to come into conflict with the Dragon God.
Months ago, I had invited him to join the fight. He said he would think about it, but didn't seem enthusiastic. So, I decided to defeat him first... and ask again afterward.
Even after we returned home, Eris, Ghislaine, Aisha, and I heard many skirmishes throughout the night.
But I wasn't interested in finding out what they were about. They seemed intense, yet predictable. I knew that Gall Farion's fall would provoke instability.
However, as we entered the Sword Sanctuary, a strange feeling overtook me. It was empty.
The few swordsmen who crossed our path avoided meeting our gaze. The atmosphere was heavy and charged.
Until I found Nigav. He looked rushed. I called out:
"Nigav!"
He saw me and ran up to me.
"Boss!"
"What's happening?"
He hesitated, with a complicated expression, as if the situation were beyond his control.
"Boss, I also only received the news this morning... it's better if you see it with your own eyes."
That made me curious. Eris grew a bit apprehensive. Ghislaine became serious.
I said, "Then let's go."
We went straight to the Ephemeral Hall, without stopping. I focused my hearing. There were many voices coming from there, mixed with sounds of combat.
My patience ran out. I ran there and burst open the door with a crash.
The scene before me confused me for a moment.
Seated in the place of the Sword God... it was not Gall Farion. It was his cousin, Timothy Britz.
Two Saints were at his side, one on each side, occupying the positions that once belonged to Clint and him.
Ahead, Clint lay on the ground, on the brink of death. A deep cut marked his stomach, and his dominant arm was missing.
And instead of helping him, two Saints were dueling fiercely.
The former Sword Emperor Clint was now just an irrelevant dying man.
The atmosphere in the Ephemeral Hall was suffocating. Some of the Saints present seemed to want to help him, but they didn't dare move.
At that point, the scene was so confusing—I understood nothing—so I decided to stop everything first. Then I roared:
"ENOUGH!"
I imbued my voice with Howling Magic. A shockwave swept through the Ephemeral Hall, reverberating off the walls and making everyone finally aware of my presence.
Everyone stopped. Motionless. Some Saints looked at me with hope in their eyes. Others, with fear.
And some had complicated expressions, as if trapped between decisions they couldn't make.
Everything was confusing.
What was happening?
Where was Gall Farion?
Why was Clint wounded on the brink of death?
I approached Clint. I looked at each of the swordsmen present. None of them could hold my gaze. They all looked away, all remained silent.
Until my gaze met Timothy's.
And, to my surprise, he did not look away.
His eyes met mine steadily.
But there was something different about him...
Not in his appearance. Physically, he looked the same. But the aura around him had completely changed.
How could someone change so much from one day to the next?
Ghislaine and Eris followed me in silence. Their steps were light, alert, and their eyes scanned the environment like cautious predators.
Before us, Clint lay fallen on the ground, bloodied, but still breathing. I knelt beside him and cast healing magic to close the cut in his stomach and reconnect his arm.
His wounds began to close slowly, but he still wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness, his expression contorted in pain.
Behind me, Timothy spoke with seriousness:
"You weren't going to leave the Sanctuary right after challenging Gall Farion, Rygar?"
That was indeed my initial objective. But I changed my mind. I planned to have one last conversation with Gall, to try to convince him to join the fight against Orsted.
Still, why was Timothy referring to Gall Farion by name, without title? Something was off there.
I began to understand, albeit superficially, the situation. But the implications of that were not good for Timothy.
Releasing a cold, heavy aura, I let my murderous intent seep out. Lightning crackled in my hands as I spoke in an icy voice:
"Timothy... you'd better answer the next questions carefully."
My fierce gaze met his. I expected him to hesitate, to falter at least a little. But, surprisingly, he was not intimidated. He gripped the hilt of his sword and replied, firmly:
"Ask your questions."
Everyone around was sweating under the pressure of my presence. Only three people remained unshaken: Timothy, Ghislaine, and Eris.
I looked directly into his eyes and asked:
"Where is Gall Farion?"
Timothy held my gaze for a moment before briefly glancing down at the hilt of his sword. Then he responded slowly:
"Last night, the former Sword God left the Sanctuary with the Immortal Demon King, Badigadi. He said he was leaving in search of an answer for his swordsmanship."
This confirmed what I had already partly deduced. But Timothy continued:
"Before leaving, Gall Farion renounced the title of Sword God. He said that Clint and I should duel to decide who would inherit the title, since you and Ghislaine probably wouldn't be interested. He didn't say goodbye to his wife, nor to his daughter. He just... left."
He paused briefly, as if to ensure I was following. I remained silent, and he went on:
"We dueled, and I won. I am currently the Sword God."
My mind was processing everything at high speed.
"And why was Clint wounded and maimed?" I asked.
Timothy furrowed his brow, showing discomfort.
"It was his choice. After losing, he refused to acknowledge me as Sword God. He said he would leave the Sanctuary to create a new school for the style. Some said they would follow him. But the Sword God Style was already in a fragile state. As the new Sword God, it is my duty to keep it united. So I told him he could stay... or die."
He looked at Clint with an impassive expression.
"He chose to die. So I left him there, until he changed his mind."
In other words, he didn't have the courage to kill Clint.
At that point, I had already understood most of the situation. My concern was that this had been a self-directed act by Timothy after Gall Farion left the Sanctuary.
But it seemed that it was he himself who told them to duel and both agreed to the duel.
"Wasn't Clint your friend?" I questioned.
"He was... until I became the Sword God. Then he became a man who threatened to divide the style."
Cold, calculating. Gall Farion trusted the strongest to lead the style, and Timothy was simply following that logic, however brutal. It made sense in a way.
"I could kill him for that..." I said coldly. But it was just a threat to test his resolve.
I didn't intend to kill him. Timothy and Clint were my companions, but not close enough for me to step between them in a dispute over ideals.
Moreover, Timothy was right: I didn't want to be the Sword God.
He seemed to accept that.
"If you want to kill me, I have no choice but to defend myself with my life. But if you have no intention of staying, I at least hope you will allow Clint to live to lead the Sword God Style."
He drew his sword with confidence. A confidence I didn't understand. He hadn't won against me even once in the past year.
But... he seemed stronger. Not close to posing a real threat to me, yet still stronger.
It was truly the case that power was where a man believed it to be. He only needed to ascend to the post of Sword God, and he had already experienced a jump in his strength.
I said:
"I don't care how you lead or anything of the sort. But since I'm here, I'll say it once: if Clint wants to leave and take whoever he wants, he can do that. And you won't stop him."
Timothy furrowed his brow. Those present in the hall swallowed hard. The new Sword God said:
"You are not the Sword God..."
I smiled.
"So what? Be it so or not, only power matters. Bring all your Sword Saints and attack me together. You won't win. That title may matter to you, but to me it matters little..."
I looked at all the warriors who had their hand on the hilt of their weapons. None of them dared to draw their blades in my presence.
Clint briefly regained consciousness. He rose unsteadily and said:
"Rygar...?"
I had no patience for explanations.
"Ask someone else later."
I turned to the other Sword Saints.
"Anyone who wants to follow Clint, leave now with him."
There was hesitation. One by one, some moved. Timothy did not stop them. He just sighed and murmured:
"My work is going to double now..."
A little over a third of the Sanctuary left the hall with Clint. Fewer than thirty Sword Saints remained.
I turned to Timothy and smiled:
"Don't worry. With your current attitude, the Sword God Style won't collapse anytime soon."
I began to walk away, but I asked one last question:
"Did Gall Farion say where he was going?"
Timothy shook his head.
"He didn't."
"I understand... good luck as the Sword God, Timothy. And, obviously, you should know: if you try to prevent Nina or Jino from leaving the Sanctuary... I will pay a visit."
Ghislaine, serious, declared:
"You've become stronger, Timothy, I will come back to fight you in the future."
She turned and followed me. Eris observed everything in silence. But her expression revealed irritation. Probably due to Gall Farion's sudden departure.
We left the Ephemeral Hall. Well... that encounter with the Sword God was quite different from what I expected.
But that's how life is.
As we approached Ezkalor, we saw Nina, Jino, and Aisha talking in the distance.
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