rcy of Death.
"Two centuries ago, during the Decisive War within the Great War of Endings, the Prism Kingdom deployed fifty thousand soldiers against the Braek Kingdom’s army of rely thirty thousand. Despite their nurical superiority, the Prism Kingdom found itself at a disadvantage.
"The Braek Kingdom was an empire governed by a dictator. The ruler’s decisions were absolute, and anything less than wholehearted obedience was punishable by death. This left the soldiers and mages with no reason to fear death itself. They fought like madn — barbaric, ruthless, and unforgiving monsters who cared little for their own lives.
"As the war continued, the Prism Kingdom ca to realize the disadvantage it faced. However, as this was the decisive battle intended to bring an end to a Great War that had raged for over thirteen hundred years, surrender was never considered.
"They prayed. They prayed to the Firstlight Goddess; the Goddess of the Sun, Change, Hope, and Desire. The prayers lasted for days. Days beca weeks. Weeks beca months.
Then, at sunrise, while the soldiers stood beneath the dawn and gazed at the hope the morning sun promised them... sothing awakened within a man. A man history would rember as the Apostle of Death.
"The Apostle of Death was blessed with the sword art, rcy of Death. It was unlike anything the world had ever witnessed. Strikes too swift to perceive, movents, and a presence that instilled terror in all opponents and techniques whose re sight could paralyze enemies.
"With the blessing of the Firstlight Goddess, the Prism Kingdom ultimately erged victorious. Emperor Ronan and the Apostle of Death would forever be rembered as the figures who brought an end to the Great War of Endings. Yet even to this day, not a single soul has managed to master the divine sword art known as rcy of Death.
"The conflict between the Braek Kingdom and the Prism Kingdom never truly ended, and both kingdoms continued to recognize one another as sworn enemies. However, no war of such scale ever erupted between them again."
Leomaris sat in the Grand Library. Shelves stretched to the enormous ceilings in every direction his eyes fell, packed with antique books, tos, and scrolls that made the entire room sll of dry wood and nothing else.
He held a massive book between his fingers and had read the entire account of the sword art he had every intention of mastering.
The expression on his face was laughable. Had anyone seen him in such a state, they’d have questioned his sanity, but that wasn’t possible. The hall was dim and grand, with neatly decorated tables and chairs set every two shelves.
But even if soone had caught him, he wouldn’t have minded. He simply couldn’t help himself, all he wanted was to confirm whether the history behind the rcy of Death matched what he’d read in the novel.
’It’s the sa, alright... but it’s heavily misinterpreted. Maybe I said it wrong. What I an is, the Apostle of Death is a fraud.’
The Apostle of Death had mastered a sword art, that much was true. Terrifying and deadly. But the Firstlight Goddess had nothing to do with his manifestation.
The Apostle of Death was a failed knight. Soone who hadn’t made it into the chivalry but joined the military not long after. He was skilled with the sword and had never fully let go of his dream as a swordsman.
’When the soldiers and mages of the Prism Kingdom lost hope under the fear and panic inflicted by the ruthless forces of the Braek Kingdom, the man saw an opportunity. He obtained an artifact that enhanced his physical strength and began practicing swordsmanship once more.’
The other soldiers prayed. He trained. And after months, his body was in such perfect sync with his sword technique that his attacks had beco nearly impossible to see.
Leomaris leaned back and stretched, his body cracking audibly from sitting in one position too long.
"When the soldiers witnessed the way he moved, they could not help but believe it was a miracle. The commander and Emperor Ronan, who had been attempting to raise morale without success, took advantage of the mont.
"They convinced the masses that the Apostle of Death’s skill was granted directly by the Goddess. Many did not believe it even after the war had ended, but as decades beca centuries and no one succeeded in mastering the sword art, even the kingdom itself began to accept that the Goddess had a hand in its creation."
The rcy of Death was recorded in the history books and held in regard as a sacred and divine sword art.
On his feet, Leomaris found another book written by the Apostle of Death himself, the technique was laid out in detail. His eyes moved from movent to movent, paying attention to each, until he spotted exactly what the Apostle had left out. The very thing that made it impossible to learn.
His expression hardened.
"So of the techniques were shadowed by a force the novel never fully explored... ant to replace the true legends of this world with frauds like the Apostle. This distortion made several techniques feel incomplete, causing many sword masters to fail.
"But Lucius, with unbreakable defenses in the novel, saw through it... Thinking about it now, Emperor Ronan likely ensured this technique was distorted."
He could speak with such confidence because Lucius, the main character of Arcane rcenary, had done all the heavy lifting. He’d figured it out and learned it himself.
It was ant for the future, but Leomaris needed the reputation this technique carried right now. It was the only way to clear the bad rumours spreading about him.
He had basic swordsmanship skills from before the academy, but that wasn’t going to make it any less challenging. Even so, with "Solve" at his disposal, thoroughly learning it wasn’t strictly necessary.
A basic understanding was all he needed, practical enough for his body to resonate with the technique. After that, it could be copied, and from then on, the difficulty of learning it would double for anyone who tried.
"In this situation, the movent of my muscles, stamina, and positioning are what matter most. To be safe, I should get books on body anatomy and physics." He muttered to himself, held onto the book, and went looking for the rest.
Only days to "solve" this technique. The toll it was going to take, physically and ntally, made his heart falter. But there was no other choice.
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