In the history of the team tournament, the fastest recorded match time, excluding forfeits, was 4.2 seconds. That record, which hadn’t been broken for decades, was just shattered by none other than Keter, who finished the match in just 2.7 seconds. “Are… Are they dead?” “I doubt there’s even a body left...” The crowd buzzed with disbelief. To them, the match looked like it had ended in barely a second. They couldn’t see clearly through the cloud of dust, but everyone knew just how powerful Keter’s Milky Way was. And this wasn’t just one arrow; it was six. Even a five-star Master would struggle to withstand one of those arrows, so how could Regan and his knights, who were all four-star or lower, possibly survive such force? The sound of people swallowing echoed like a chorus of dread around the vast arena. They were afraid yet excited that when the dust settled, all they would find would be scattered remains. At last, the dust cleared. And what was revealed was... Regan and his three knights looked beyond ruined; mangled or tattered didn’t even begin to describe it. Their swords and armor were in shambles, and all the hair on their body had been completely burned off. They looked like babies. Though their bodies were scorched, they weren’t fully burned to a crisp. The referee didn’t even need to check. He bellowed at the top of his lungs, “M-match over! The winner is Team Keter! M-medics, get up here now!” The medical team, comprising healers, alchemists, and physicians, rushed to the ring. As they examined Team Regan, every one of them was shocked. “How is this possible?” “They’ve sustained massive internal and external trauma, but none of them died… They stopped right at the brink of death?!” “The injuries of all four people are nearly identical… Even if he intended for this, it would have been impossible!” Everyone glanced at Keter. At this moment, not a single person in the arena was looking anywhere else. Being the focus of tens of thousands of eyes would weigh heavily on anyone. Even seasoned warriors or the patriarchs would feel the pressure, let alone a young man who hadn’t even come of age. One might have expected Keter to freeze or panic, but… Keter raised his fist high, basking in his victory. One fan’s loud cheering unleashed a wave of thunderous applause and wild screaming. “He’s the Divine Archer of Sefira!” No one cared about the next match. They were thrilled that Keter had ended the match the moment it began with his ultimate attack. Other teams held back for various reasons; some used only basic sword techniques to avoid revealing their own or their family's signature styles, while others conserved their aura for later rounds. Some even made unspoken pacts not to use aura at all, relying on pure swordplay. But Keter was bold. He didn’t care about any of that and held nothing back. From the very start, he used the same ultimate technique he had always shown. “Lord Keter! What’s the name of that technique?!” The excited audience chanted, begging him to reveal the name of the move. Keter stepped off the ring, appearing to be ignoring them. But just before leaving, he said indifferently, “Milky Way.” With that cool, offhand reply, Keter walked away, and the crowd erupted into near-fanatical cheers behind him. Rajis and his team watched Keter’s battle from their waiting room. He glanced at the bracket and muttered to himself, “Reckless. If he used a technique of that magnitude, he must have completely depleted his aura… Is he not thinking about the next match…?” No matter what anyone said, the three strongest contenders in Group A were clear: Keter from Sefira, Rajis the Sword Dragon, and Henya, the Sword Witch. Unless something unexpected happened, these three were bound to face each other in the semifinals and finals of the team tournament. If that was the case, conserving as much aura as possible was the best strategy—after all, the more one used, the longer it took to recover. “...Maybe it’s not arrogance, but confidence.” Keter’s divine display in the battle royale had been impressive, not just in terms of power or flair. He completely controlled the flow of battle, not just the space but even his opponents’ emotions. He used them to his advantage. He’s mastered what even I have only studied in theory. Rajis believed that aura capacity and skill could be granted by innate talent. It was rare, but possible. But the combat instinct Keter displayed made him feel like he was standing before an insurmountable wall. He clenched his fists. Some might deny it, but Rajis was convinced Keter was an incredible warrior. He likely still had strength left to spare. Even so, Rajis had not even the slightest intention of yielding the title of Sword of the South. To create an ideal and just world, I must first become the Kingdom’s Greatest Swordsman. That’s the first step of my plan. If I can’t even become the Sword of the South, I’ll never be able to change the world. There were other ways, of course. But those paths would be too dangerous or take too long to be realistic. Becoming the Sword of the South and then the Kingdom’s Greatest Swordsman was the fastest and most certain path. “I will give everything I have in this tournament.” Rajis saw this as a trial given to him—a trial to surpass Keter! “I shall prove that justice can never be broken,” solemnly vowed Rajis, hands clasped like in prayer. “Lady Henya, your semifinal opponent has been determined. It’s Team Rajis.” Henya, still as a statue in the middle of training, heard her teammate’s whispering near her ear. Without breaking form, she replied, “The final opponent will be Keter, right?” “Yes. I didn’t expect him to keep using his technique, Milky Way, from the very first match to the last, but…” Unlike Henya, who spent every spare moment in training, her teammates dedicated themselves to analyzing the opponent’s team through screens and records. Thanks to this strategy, Team Henya advanced using minimal effort, thus preserving stamina and aura. But analyzing Team Keter was pointless. In the first match, Keter overwhelmed his opponents with six Milky Way arrows. In the second, he did it again, shattering everyone’s expectations that his aura would be depleted. The result? The opposing team lost all will to fight. Having seen what became of Team Regan after taking the hit, no one had the confidence to block or dodge it. So the second team surrendered, enduring the humiliation, and the third team naturally followed suit. By the fourth match, someone finally dared to fight, but the result of their arrogance was painfully predictable; four more patients were added to the infirmary. Thus, Keter reached the finals using a single technique from start to finish, and as everyone had predicted, the three strongest fighters rose to the top with no surprises. Now, the question of who would face Keter in the finals would be answered in the upcoming semifinal match: Team Rajis against Team Henya. Rajis had been chosen as one of the Seven Young Geniuses of the Lillian Kingdom by the secretive group Mystic Gate, earning him the title of Sword Dragon. Henya, on the other hand, was the daughter of Lord Eslow, and was known for killing numerous monsters, including the Knight Slayer, a B-tier Named Monster. That was what earned her the title of Sword Witch. Ordinary citizens were hoarse from arguing about who would win. “Sir Rajis is a genius among geniuses! I’ve never seen a purer sword technique! Lady Henya is great, sure, but she can’t match that level of skill!” “What do you know about swordsmanship? Just think about it logically: how can someone with one sword beat someone wielding two?” ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩~𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢~𝔫𝔢𝔱 “Hah! So you think two swords mean double the power?” “What did you say?! Then you fight with one arm, and I’ll use both!” “How is that the same thing?!” The debate grew so heated, even the spectators were throwing punches to defend their favorite. Even the nobles and knights couldn’t easily predict the winner. But there were two people who were absolutely sure of the outcome: Rajis and Henya. Both were convinced of their own victory. It was not because of swordsmanship matchups, fighting styles, or condition, but because of will and conviction. Rajis had to win for justice, and Henya had to win for love. “Wid... I won’t let you down.” Henya fiddled with the flower necklace made of leaf stems. Wid had given it to her as a charm to keep her safe during the tournament. “I don’t care about victory. I just want you to come back safely, Lady Henya. I’ll be waiting, in the same place as always.” As Wid’s words echoed in her mind, Henya’s eyes burned with determination. “Wid, if I don’t become the Sword of the South this time, there won’t be another chance. I can feel it.” She had never fought Rajis before, but she knew of his reputation. He was clearly no easy opponent. But he wasn’t the problem. What loomed beyond him was the true monster—Keter. Even though she was crushed in the battle royale, Henya wasn’t fragile enough to give up over a single defeat. More than anything, she had a desperate reason to become the Sword of the South. At first, she just wanted to become independent due to a strained relationship with her father, Eslow. But after meeting Wid, she fell in love. Henya, once cold-blooded and cynical, had lived with a frozen heart, until Wid, like a sun, thawed it into a garden of blooming flowers. That happiness brought her warmth but also fear—a fear that her happiness would disappear at any moment. Her fear wasn’t baseless. If Eslow found out about Wid, he would surely put him to the test, and that test would undoubtedly take Wid’s life. I won’t let that happen. Henya’s love and resolve weren’t an impulsive decision; it was a decision made after countless nights of agony. “So I won’t lose. I’ll defeat Keter too, even if it costs a piece of my soul.” And so, the two fighters, each driven by their own conviction, finally faced off in the semifinals: Team Rajis and Team Henya. The knights on both teams were evenly matched; both teams had no four-stars and only two or three-star warriors. Of course, they had differences in power, but they were so subtle that they wouldn’t affect the outcome. After all, there was no room for two or three-star warriors in a battle between five-star Masters—especially those in the upper tier. The referee signaled the start of the match with a horn. There were no cheers or shouts. The crowd held its breath, watching every move. As if they planned it, one fighter from each team stepped into the center of the ring. Rajis and Henya locked eyes. It was only for five seconds, but that was enough for them to realize something important: they had completely misjudged each other. “Lady Henya. I thought you joined this tournament for fun, but clearly, I was wrong. I don’t know your reason, but I can sense how serious your resolve is.” “Likewise. I thought you were here for fame and glory, but I was wrong. You have your own reason to become the Sword of the South, don’t you?” “I do. I’ll defeat you, then Keter, and claim that title.” “Funny. That’s exactly what I plan to do.” Their seemingly casual and friendly conversation drove the audience mad with curiosity. They were too far away to hear what they were saying. “Why aren’t they fighting?” “What are they even talking about?” And just as the crowd was about to explode in frustration… …in the blink of an eye, Rajis’s mighty sword and Henya’s twin swords collided. The match between Rajis and Henya, filled with trickery and lethal strikes, was impossible to follow with the naked eye. One moment they were in the center of the ring, the next they were at the far left, and in the blink of an eye, they were at the far right again. The speed at which they exchanged blows was so fast that the sound of their swords clashing echoed only after the fact. The spectators were so fixed on the fight that they forgot to cheer, even to breathe. It was intense and desperate. Even the untrained audience could feel that the two weren’t merely exchanging swords; they were exchanging emotions and convictions. Even the nobles, previously on edge, were now deeply absorbed in the match, including Sefira. “My lord. My lord,” Katherine called out. Feeling a tug at his shoulder, Myle turned. “Ah, Dame Katherine.” He was so engrossed in the match that he didn’t realize that Katherine had returned and was calling him. Her return meant that she had completed her mission. “Did you find out why the nobles have been so uneasy?” he asked. For some reason, Katherine looked hesitant. Worried that the other nobles might overhear, Myle lowered his voice. “It’s fine even if it’s just a rough idea. What matters is that you found something. Even if it’s not verified, go ahead and tell me.” “It’s just that… Well, the rumor is so bizarre. But there’s a witness, so I’m not sure what to make of it either.” Myle was eager to know why the nobles had suddenly become so tense, but he was just as curious about the outcome of the battle between Rajis and Henya. Katherine, who had been reluctant, finally revealed the outrageous information she had gathered. “Please don’t be too shocked when you hear this, but... There’s a rumor going around that Undeads have appeared in the city.”