King Qiu Han was, above all else, a beacon of wisdom and might.
Serving as the current leader of Al-Aresta for 1000 years, the ageless king has seen both the pinnacles of human dignity, as well as it's defilement.
His countenance was stern, far more stern than Xerxes. It was not at all unreasonable, as he was a man of a hundred lifetimes. Novel experiences were few and far between, and he held no particular desire for internal development.
In his eyes burned only the flame of all that was good; a furnace to incinerate all evil.
At his side stood 6 Divine Generals, each exuding their own unique pressure akin to a well of gravity.
The first was with the stature of a wall; sturdy and overwhelming like an impenetrable fortress. His face was obscured by a purple veil with golden bindings around his mouth.
The second was a young man, around the physical age of a late teenager, with an insatiable blood lust. His eyes and hair were that of a wild animal, untamed and frenzied. An absolute recalcitrance. Among the Generals, this man was certainly the most dangerous.
The third was a woman in a martial uniform. Her Mang was serene, ever-drifting upon the southern seas. I couldn't grasp any particular feelings or desires.
Adra stood as the fourth seat, flashing a peace-sign at us in her typical joviality. She clearly wasn't taking this seriously...
The fifth seat was an elderly man with dozens of scrolls and weapons floating around him. He wore ceremonial armor adorned with various etchings and inscriptions.
The sixth seat stood a man with short, snow-white hair in a church garment.
The seventh, and final seat, was Xerxes, who was prostrating before the king.
Before any words could be exchanged, the second seat appeared before me in an instant, staring me down with a menacing gaze.
It was cruel and sadistic in nature, reflecting an unprecedented violence that threatened to erupt at anytime.
This man was suffocating.
"You're…gonna be number 8?" He said in a raspy voice.
"Step down, Jiro. Such disrespect before the king is nothing short of blasphemy."
Jiro of the Second Seat glanced at Xerxes like an ant crawling upon the earth. "Do you think you can stop me despite your cost? Remember your place."
"I hardly consider you a countryman to begin with, so I'm such my uniqueness will make quit the exception."
Their Mang clashed like a rolling tsunami, waves clashing and superseding one another in an attempt to gain dominance.
"Jiro. Xerxes."
King Qiu Han uttered only their names, yet even such a passing comment was enough to subdue the two generals.
"Enough. A decision has yet to be made, correct?"
"..." Jiro returned to his spot besides the king in silence.
"Now then..." The king met my gaze, "let us discuss a practical matter. You have been personally recommended by the Seventh Seat to inherit a position among the Divine Generals, yes? Then state your name and origin. I am quite intrigued."
He smiled as his head rested on his right hand, carrying an amused expressed.
"I am Ereth of the Eternal Twilight. I have come to honor my father, Zoltin of the Promised Victory, and become the Immortal Sword Saint."
The crowd had mixed reactions, as expected. I understood the absurdity of my claim from my time in Saranhell and the Western Barrens, but what most surprised me was the king's reaction. It was not an expression of laughter or dismissal - far from it.
His eyes were wide open as he quickly sat up straight, as though he had seen a ghost.
"You...do you understand what you just said?"
"Yes, your honor."
For a moment, King Qiu Han stood up in befuddlement. "Zoltin...is he still alive?"
"Yes, he is the one that sent me. Here is the proof of my heritage."
I drew the broken Sword of Promised Victory, presenting it before the king. Despite it's clearly aged make, the sword was still a brilliant weapon, considered the pinnacle of the blade. It's golden outline shined a majestic gold even after a thousand years of war.
He stepped down from his throne and ordered me to come forth. As I approached him, he examined the weapon carefully. The grip, the cross guard, the pommel, the blade, and even the flat of the blade were all thoroughly examined with the precision of a licensed doctor.
"I...I see. You are no lie, boy." Though it had only glimmered for a moment, a look of genuine relief washed over his face, relieving centuries of tension that had haunted the man throughout his rule.
"Very well, we will begin your examination immediately."
"..!" The Divine Generals, aside from Xerxes, turned their heads in astonishment at the announcement.
"Ridiculous!" The sixth seat loudly announced. "My Lord, this man is an Out-Worlder with no previous records of his existence. Son of the legendary war hero from 1000 years ago? How can we take such a man seriously?"
The third seat chimed in with a logical demeanor. "He's right, My Lord. I do not wish to speak ill of your judgement, but this man holds no loyalty to you or Al-Aresta. Is he truly fit to stand among us."
"H-Hey now, everyone! Let's relax a bit!" Adra's failing attempts at maintaining the peace had only caused more strife, creating heated debate in the Throne Room.
Some chose to accept me wholeheartedly, some reserved their judgements entirely, while others fought against my examination.
Amongst the endless bickering, Qiu Han's voice resonated like rolling thunder, silencing the room once again. "There is but one condition that must be met in order to inherit a new seat among the Divine Generals."
He sat upon his throne with an absolute confidence, flashing a subtle grin. "All you must do is receive my acknowledgement."
"...Is that all?" I asked in bemusement.
"Cut me. Stab me. Attack me. Entertain me. Or perhaps, you can even impress me with a particular skill or talent. It matters not. Now come, Ereth, son of Zoltin, and show me your father's lifework."
"Very well, your honor."
[Invocation - Release]
My hair shined a blinding white, my Mang dancing in the air like sparks of lightning. This man was the king of Al-Aresta, likely a being far greater than even Xerxes. Thus, it would do me no good to hesitate or restrain myself. I'll increase my output to 100% and strike at his neck.
Honestly, I've never used this much power on anyone except father, so I wasn't sure if my vessel could handle such intense Mang.
"[Give me the strength to achieve my Father's ambition]"
My hands burned as the broken Sword of Promised Victory resonated with my Mang. A piercing hum resonated from the shattered blade, harmonizing with my heartbeat. Power surged. The air itself warped- causing the very foundation of the throne room to tremble upon my invocation.
"Incredible. To think that even the throne room could be disturbed..." The old man of the 5th seat pondered.
Jiro of the Second Seat scoffed, "Eh? So what? He's gotta bit of Mang, but that alone ain't too impressive."
Perhaps Jiro was right. Mang alone did not make the fighter. It was only the beginning, a volatile tide that could drown both master and foe.
I leaped forward with all my might, cracking the marble floor beneath me as my blade raced towards the king's neck.
However...
Tin-
It was as though time itself had stopped. The dust settled, and the soft reverberation of metal tapping metal was the only noise remaining in the throne room.
"Ho...? Is that it? If that's the case..."
The broken Sword of Promised Victory had met the king's neck, and yet...
It didn't even leave a scratch.
"I'm utterly disappointed."