Chapter 63: The Sword Saint, The Sword Of The East, The One With The Sword

News of an altercation between two representatives of the Grenitian Kingdom and the Parvian Houses spread like wildfire. With each passing minute, the details became clearer and clearer which made it hard to call it an altercation. The Parvian nobleman had been mutilated by a Mercenary from the Grenitian Kingdom. The nobleman survived, but his life would be dramatically harder from that point on. A prosthetic jaw and prosthetic legs had to be used since his detached body parts sustained too much damage. Since the Free City was advanced in the medical field, the man was healed in a just a few hours, but it would be a few weeks until he was back in good health.

In a small room, the nobleman who was assaulted sat on a bed with a listless expression. Every so often his hand would drift to the cold metal jaw that kept his mouth shut.

A young man with a profound temperament entered the room without knocking. His long dark curly hair and his skin tone made it clear that he was a person native to Parv. His outfit consisted of simple white robes which contrasted with the feeling of importance that seemed to emit from him naturally. His name was Cyprian Aurell. Those in Parv would recognize the name as the one who was set to become the next leader of the House of Swords, one of the oldest and most prestigious houses that had been around since the country was founded.

Even though he was under a famous house, Cyprian was most recognized for his advancements in his swordsmanship. Skipping the embarrassing nicknames that were attached to him, Cyprian had truly reached a different level of swordsmanship. Prior to the Red Moon and Golden Aurora, he was just extremely talented, but after, he had created a new technique. Cyprian could channel spirit magic into his sword which allowed him to create his own techniques made from something that hadn’t existed for a thousand years.

“Do you know who I am?” Cyprian asked.

The metal-jawed man looked at Cyprian with dull eyes, “You’re Lord Cyprian of the House of Swords.” he intoned in a strange voice.

“So you do know me. Unfortunately, I do not know you, or at least I didn’t until today. You’re one of the men attached to someone in my retinue. Based on what I’ve heard about you, I now believe that was a position too great for you. You exhibited several qualities that go against the core principles of my House. If I had found out prior to this incident you would already be a nameless beggar exiled to the desert.” Cyprian’s words caused the man to hold his head down.

Not only had he been disfigured, he had been disparaged by the very house he served under.

“You shouldn’t be too upset. One of my retainers has already been punished for his negligence in allowing you to step into my circle. As for you...You’ve suffered enough. I’m a strong advocate of repentance and so you’ll be allowed to redeem yourself at some point. Now...In regards to the one responsible for your injuries, find some comfort in the fact that I will personally see to him. Not for you, but to avenge the dishonor of my house.” Cyprian finished what he had to say and stood up.

“Thank you, Lord Cyprian.” The metal-jawed man bowed his head.

Cyprian looked at him before leaving. It had to be said, Cyprian’s treatment of the injured man was extremely kind. Some houses, especially the older ones, were incredibly strict in their practices.

…

After finding out about Ira’s detainment, many diplomats from the Grenitian Kingdom had been struck with a collective headache. There were many problems that could arise from Ira being detained in addition to the damage of the Kingdom’s already low reputation. The only person who didn’t care about matters of politics and was actually worried about Ira was Rhys. After finding out what happened, she found time to go visit Ira. There was a specially constructed holding area for diplomatic incidents such as the one Ira had caused. It was reinforced with dozens of restrictive arrays and fueled by the purest mana stones to ensure its security. Rhys provided her proof and was allowed to enter, but only after surrendering her weapons.

Rhys didn’t know the reason for it, but her steps were filled with urgency. She turned around a corner and into a hallway only to see a purple-haired woman dressed in a grey cloak coming out of a room with a thick iron door. As Rhys looked at the woman, the woman, in turn, looked at Rhys. Seeing indifferent silver eyes gazing at her, Rhys thought of one name, Avery Thynne.

Anything she heard from Ira and Carter didn’t seem to do Avery any justice. She was incredibly beautiful and looking at her caused Rhys to become disheartened which led to her slowing her steps until she came to a complete stop.

Avery raised her hood as she walked toward Rhys, after a few moments she was standing in front of her. Just like Rhys had heard of Avery, Avery had heard of Rhys.

“What is it you want from, Ira?” Avery asked bluntly. “To confirm if he’s safe? He’s quite fine. If that’s what you wanted to know, you can leave now.”

Rhys looked at Avery and slightly clenched her fist. She had her notepad and pen but didn’t want to respond to Avery.

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“Oh, would you like to see him for yourself? Why? I doubt you’re close enough to him to warrant an action like that.” Avery said coldly before continuing, “So why are you still here?”

Rhys shook her head as she remained still, a sense of unwillingness began to manifest itself within her.

Avery looked at the determined expression in Rhys’ eyes before she spoke, “If you truly feel anything for Ira, you’ll come with me.”

Avery walked past Rhys without waiting for a response, in fact, she didn’t even look back as if to express her doubts toward Rhys. Rhys took a deep breath to calm her emotions before she turned to follow Avery. She didn't know what Avery wanted, but Rhys cared a great deal about Ira's well being.

…

“Your Highness, Ira is to be released before the banquet so there are no worries. By witness accounts, the Parvian noble was the first to approach Ira and offended him in some way.” Irving said.

The truth was that more than half of the witnesses were placed at the restaurant ahead of time. It was easy enough to use them to create a narrative and get the others at the restaurant to go with it. It started with a question, “It seemed like the Parvian was the one to bother the couple at the table first, right?” At that point, another “witness” would agree and build on it with something along the lines of, “I overheard the Parvian attempting to ask about buying the woman from that Ira fellow.”

The trauma experienced from that gory scene helped to create a mental gap that was easily plugged with a bit of persuasion. Even the waitress that served Ira and Avery had said that the Parvian man walked around with a vulgar expression and had been obnoxious, which was hard to picture since she was nowhere near them when the incident occurred.

The funny thing was when the activities of the Parvian Man were investigated they found quite a lot that helped Ira’s case. The Parvian had visited several brothels days earlier and caused quite a commotion at a few of them. He even attempted to bribe a prominent Merchant into introducing him to some important figures. All those things were of course in the Prince’s consideration when he told Irving to find someone to use as a pawn. It was easier to blame a troublemaker than an innocent man after all.

“If things progress according to expectation, then Cyprian should be the first to move. The only one we cannot account for is Ira. Find a way to monitor his movements without being too obvious. Feel free to use funds if you need to use people as another set of eyes.” Leonard ordered.

“Consider it done, Your Highness.” Irving bowed before leaving.

Leonard sat in silence for a few moments before opening a desk drawer and pulling out a ragged old book. The leather cover had been worn away leaving it nameless. The ink on most of the pages had faded into a mess of illegible scribbles. However, the pages that remained intact recorded parts of history from the Old Kingdom.

Patches of information painted a clear picture of the one called King Dietrich. When the expedition to the ruins had finished, Leonard had procured one of the books that were recovered. Before Leonard had learned of King Dietrich, his goal had stopped at the borders of the Grenitian Kingdom. He planned on succeeding the throne, raising his progeny, and repeating the same cycle. After he learned of what Dietrich did, his ambitions became greater.

Leonard didn’t delude himself into thinking he could be the sole ruler of every country, but to have a significant presence would be enough. King Dietrich’s advantage wasn’t just his strength, it was also the higher races who were a looming threat which made it easier to unify each of the mortal races. Leonard would have none of that, in fact, he was at a disadvantage since the Grenitian Kingdom looked very weak.

Leonard sighed and put the book away. From his perspective, every moment wasted was a missed opportunity to advance toward his goal.

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