The Sword Sanctum, a harsh land blanketed in snow and ice year-round, housed the most sacred hall in the hearts of swordsmen.
Today, the heart of that hall welcomed three visitors.
A black-haired man, a silver-haired Beastfolk woman, and a red-haired woman.
Led by Sword King Ghislaine, the other two stepped into a room thick with killing intent.
This was the pinnacle of the Sword God Style.
The room was spacious and austere, its floor paved with hard black stone. Famous swords of every kind hung on the walls, each radiating a faint Pressure.
Inside, dozens of gazes as sharp as blades instantly converged on the three visitors.
Without exception, they belonged to the prized disciples of the Sword God Style.
Their breathing was long and steady, their killing intent restrained, yet it seemed ready to surge into a raging tide at any moment and tear the intruders apart.
Among the crowd were two particularly young faces-Nina and Gino Britts.
They, too, wore the training robes of the Sword God Style, their eyes carrying a hint of condescending scrutiny.
At the head of them all, a man lounged in the seat of honor.
He looked like a washed-up, middle-aged drunk, with disheveled hair, unkempt stubble, and half-closed eyes that suggested he might fall asleep at any second.
Yet this man was the strongest of his generation, the pinnacle of all swordsmen, someone even Ghislaine had to look up to-the Sword God, Gal Farion.
Ghislaine stepped forward and dropped to one knee, her animal ears and tail lowering respectfully. "Master, I have a favor to ask."
Cui Ciyou also spoke. "Good afternoon, Sword God."
That left Alice. Every gaze settled on her, waiting for her to offer the proper greeting.
Yet Alice simply stood there.
Her short, crimson hair stirred in