Those gathered in the Garden of Swords trembled at his words as if a lightning bolt had struck in front of their noses. Their eyes widened at the audacious wanted man before them.
Everyone with their eyes fixed on Jin, including the elders and pure-blooded Runcandels, had not witnessed a more shocking moment in their lives.
How could he be so bold? Here he was, voluntarily returning to the place of his execution despite the arrest warrant issued by the two largest clans in the world.
How dare he? Does he dare to mock this place? Arrest him right now!
All the elders and his brothers wanted to give the order.
Under most circumstances, they surely would have already done so. But their instincts told them to keep their mouths shut.
Not to speak in front of Cyron. Even Rosa had to calm her startled heart. She looked at her husband for a reaction.
And, obviously, she hoped that Cyron would stab Jin, just as all the other pure-blooded Runcandels thought he would.
Jin dismounted from Murakan’s back, stretched, and looked towards Cyron.
Cyron remained still and met the gaze of his youngest son.
A dreadful silence followed, so quiet that no one dared to breathe aloud. No one could guess what father and son were thinking.
Jin’s eyes gleamed with their own light, as if to say there was nothing on earth he feared.
In contrast, Cyron’s eyes were filled with concern and highlighted the wrinkles around them.
His gaze concealed the deep emotional feeling that the giant named Cyron felt for the first time in his life.
The heart of a father beholding his adult son.
The joy that his son had become the most special and powerful man in the world and that he was finally standing before him as a man, and the faith that it wasn’t an illusion born from parental expectations.
He had sired thirteen children, and Luna was the only one he had embraced in pure ecstasy. But Luna went against his wishes and yielded the seat of patriarch.
After Luna, he regarded the other eleven as pebbles on the road. But when Jin began revealing his talents, he saw a spark in him.
Now, the spark had turned into an uncontrollable fire, a great blaze that flew towards the Garden of Swords to engulf it entirely.
To sweep this sacred place of swordsmen completely in its flames, for this warm grave of swords to ignite its formidable flames once more.
I am proud.
Cyron’s brief but intense feeling did not reach anyone’s ears, including Jin’s.
Several seconds passed. Jin fell into a mysterious sensation, just like Cyron.
There were thousands of swordsmen and eleven of his brothers there, but it felt as if he was alone with his father.
Only his father, Cyron Runcandel, among all those gathered there.
He was the only one worthy of defeating him.
Of course, many present were stronger than Jin. Luna, Rosa, the Black Knights. However, they were people Jin was destined to surpass someday.
But the same couldn’t be said of his father.
Surpassing his father required the determination to overcome his own destiny.
“I will surpass myself over and over to surpass you, father.”
Both father and son made a comment to themselves.
Cyron was the first to move. After dismounting his horse, he unsheathed his sword.
It was the same sword Jin had chosen in the selection ceremony in both his past and present lives. The pale blade of Balisada, the sword of the first patriarch, Temar Runcandel, reflected the sun.
Cyron then raised his strength, causing all the cadets to immediately fall to the ground.
All their legs gave way. Cyron’s strength was impossible for the cadets to resist.
Low-level guardian knights trembled as they struggled to maintain their stance, and even mid-level knights exerted great effort to fight against the force.
Falling to the ground before Cyron was a disgrace only allowed for young cadets.
Rosa, the elders, high-ranking guardian knights, execution knights, Black Knights, and all the Flagbearers except the Tona twins showed no change in expression.
Meanwhile, Jin gathered all his energy and prepared to respond to the attack.
Here it comes. My father’s sword is descending.
I can withstand a single strike from my father.
It was the confidence he had gained from his first visit to Laphrarosa.
Indeed, Jin realized he could block a strike from Vahn, the battle god, after ninety thousand deaths, and he even demonstrated it against Vanessa Olsen, a retired Black Knight.
But Cyron chose a very different move from the usual.
It wasn’t a simple horizontal or vertical cut. This strike carried the weight of all the achievements of a demigod named Cyron Runcandel.
The sword.
It gradually descended, in such a way that even a three-year-old child could notice its movement. Its incremental descent made it seem like anyone could dodge it with just a light step.
It continued to fall towards Jin.
No sound of slicing through the air was heard. Balisada leaned forward like a frigate sinking gently into the sea.
But who could say that the sword was slow?
One didn’t need to be a martial arts master to conjure up the only phrase that could fully describe the movement Cyron was making.
Divine Strike.
Something only possible with the powers of a deity.
An incredible technique that was far beyond the comprehension of men and the laws of nature.
Jin took a deep breath as Balisada approached within an arm’s length of him.
He was sweating all over. Every muscle fiber in his body was completely contracted, his blood and bones hardened with all the aura he held within.
It would be impossible to face this gradually but incredibly variable technique without raising all his energies.
The pale blade of Sigmund left its sheath. A dense lightning energy flowed over the blade.
Jin held the sword in a two-handed stance and raised it diagonally to block Balisada. In a matter of seconds, the swords would finally clash.
Everyone gathered in the Garden of Swords thought a million things as the collision approached.
Luna worried that Jin might not be able to withstand the attack.
“Father is convinced that the brat can withstand his strike!”
Meanwhile, Joshua clenched his teeth anxiously. Jin had become an enemy as strong as him. Joshua believed that Jin would undoubtedly survive and drive the sword into his neck.
Most of his brothers shared Joshua’s opinion.
He had simply been the younger brother, just a Provisional Flagbearer, a condemned criminal who couldn’t escape his sentence.
But now, he had returned to join the race for the throne of swords and angrily eyed his opportunity to pass the final rite of passage.
If he blocks this sword, everything he has caused so far will be taken much less seriously. Cyron, must you throw the Runcandels into the flames of chaos for your own pleasure?
Rosa Runcandel’s eyes narrowed. She also cherished her youngest son, whom she had given birth to with great effort, to the point where she considered him the best candidate to succeed Joshua as the patriarch.
If only he hadn’t caused so many problems. No, even if he had deviated from the clan by wielding Shadow Energy and magic, if he hadn’t revealed himself to the public of his own accord, she would have done everything in her power to ensure he became Joshua’s successor.
But now that his deviations had been revealed to the entire world, they had to dismiss Jin, if only for the sake of the clan. That’s what Rosa believed.
Still, I cannot go against the Patriarch’s decision. The will of Patriarch Runcandel must be executed with absolute authority, and it must always remain so.
To question the current Patriarch’s decision and turn the situation around could only mean one thing.
It meant that Joshua’s decision could always be overturned by someone else after becoming patriarch. It undermined the patriarch’s absolute rule.
That’s why she wanted to make Joshua the patriarch as soon as possible. Rosa saw him as the ideal candidate to safeguard this gigantic sand castle that was the Runcandel clan.
In fact, she believed that no one could replace Joshua.
We have too many enemies. The future of the Runcandel clan is bleak, and we have nowhere to run. So why do we try to return to the past?
Rosa bit her lower lip. And at that precise moment, the swords of Balisada and Sigmund met.
Steel met steel, emitting an extremely faint sound like an egg forming a small crack.
Cyron did not retract his sword upon completing his movement. Meanwhile, Jin looked at him with eyes completely bloodshot from the effort.
Blood streamed from his lips and ears.
The force within Balisada transferred to Jin’s body like convection and turned his strengths upside down. It was as if a tsunami surged through his veins. His bones and internal organs screamed as if they were being torn apart.
But Jin stood firm.
Cyron’s strength soon formed a complete circle within Jin’s body and spread through the ground, which trembled and gave way as if someone had forcefully opened its mouth.
An immensely bright light gushed out of the hole in the ground like an oil well. It was the aura of Cyron contained within Balisada.
The desperate lightning sparks that flickered through the furious aura were evidence of the fierceness with which Jin had fought against his father’s sword.
A testament that the youngest son of the Runcandels had withstood the sword that demanded great sacrifice from anyone gathered here to face it.
The surging waves of aura that had been gushing like a waterfall began to diminish.
Cyron’s gaze remained fixed on his son, who still stood, and on the dark dragon that watched him from behind.
Indeed, an impeccable guardian dragon, thought Cyron.
Damn, what a terrible father, thought Murakan.
Jin coughed up a large amount of crimson blood and briefly lost his balance.
At that precise moment, everyone gasped; those who mostly adored Jin, were hostile towards him, or were merely curious about him.
If he fell, it would be the end. Jin’s name would never be erased from the list of the Runcandel clan’s eliminated.
“Aaaargh!” Jin shouted after plunging his sword into the ground to maintain balance.
Jin pounded his chest with his fists like a madman and kept fighting. His desperate cry of never accepting any mediocrity shook the entire Garden of Swords.
Finally, Jin stood up and faced Cyron once again. He was a mess, but it was clear that he clung to his consciousness.
Upon seeing him, Cyron briefly showed a faint smile for the first time. It was nothing more than a fleeting smile, but everyone near him saw it clearly.
The smile meant a thousand things.
The Magical Swordsman named Jin had just passed the final requirement to enter the Garden of Swords. And it was Cyron himself who proclaimed it.
Luna was so overwhelmed with emotion that she almost burst into tears, and even those who were not close to Jin felt relieved.
Cyron spoke with a dry voice after his smile faded. “Take Jin Runcandel, the Flagbearer, to the healers. We will begin his formal initiation as a Flagbearer as soon as he regains consciousness.”
It was at the end of these words that Jin collapsed.