Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 364:Holy Swords

The secluded training ground was silent except for the sound of controlled breathing.

Ethan stood at the center of the chamber, bare-chested with his feet firmly planted on the rune-etched floor.

Sweat rolled down his body in thin streams, but before it could reach the ground, it evaporated into faint mist. The air around him trembled slightly, warped by the pressure of his presence, as if the space itself was struggling to stay calm.

He raised his hand slowly.

Darkness gathered around his fingers like living smoke. It twisted and curled, responding to his will with eerie obedience. With a subtle turn of his wrist, the darkness spread outward, coating the air in a thin, wavering veil. At the sa mont, golden light blood from his other hand. It was sharp, pure, and steady, cutting cleanly through the shadows without resistance.

The two forces did not clash nor did not reject each other.

Ethan tried to mix them but they didn't mixed

Then Ethan felt it.

A faint drag. A subtle resistance.

He narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist.

The darkness surged forward, then abruptly halted in midair. The light shifted and reshaped itself, forming faint sword-like outlines that hovered around him in a loose formation. Five blades trembled gently, their edges shimring with restrained power.

"Too slow," he muttered.

He flicked his fingers.

The swords shattered into sparks, and the darkness collapsed inward before vanishing completely.

Though he could use both darkness and light at the sa ti, the strain was obvious. It was not rejection. There was no conflict between the elents themselves. Instead, it was his mind that lagged behind. Light and darkness demanded different rhythms, different intentions. Switching between them or shaping them together required extre precision. Even a slight delay in thought caused a drag in response.

Ethan exhaled slowly.

"It's not the elents," he said under his breath. "It's ."

The problem lay in ntal capacity and control. His soul could handle the power, but his mind still needed refinent. The elents waited for commands that arrived a fraction of a second too late. That delay was enough to weaken the flow.

"I need more practice," he muttered. "More focus."

He inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

Again.

This ti, he moved his body.

He stepped forward, twisted his waist, and slashed his arm through the air as if holding an invisible blade. Pressure exploded outward in a sharp wave. The stone floor beneath him cracked loudly. Fine fractures spread like spiderwebs across the ground, only to seal themselves monts later as the reinforcent runes flared and stabilized.

Ethan stopped.

He frowned and rolled his shoulders.

His movents were clean and precise, yet sothing still felt off. The power answered him, but it hesitated for a brief instant before responding. That tiny delay irritated him more than outright failure.

He flexed his fingers and slowed down.

Again.

This ti, he imagined battle.

Enemies charging at him and him clashing with them.

Chaos erupted all around.

His aura thickened gradually, pressing outward like a heavy tide. The chamber walls humd softly, struggling to adapt. The runes carved into the stone glowed brighter, then steadied as they adjusted to his growing presence.

Light gathered quietly within his soul.

The five swords of light ford once more, no longer wavering. They rested deep within him, calm and obedient, waiting to be released. He could feel their weight, their sharpness, their readiness.

Once cast, they could easily slay a peak Emperor realm knight. Against multiple enemies, they would carve a path of devastation. Even a Legendary Knight would not escape unscathed. While the swords could not kill such a being instantly, they could bind and suppress their strength in one decisive mont.

Ethan let the feeling settle.

He was fully imrsed when—

A ripple passed through the air.

Ethan's eyes snapped open.

The presence was faint but clear. It stood just outside the secluded area. His focus broke instantly, and the swords dissolved back into his soul without resistance.

Question marks ford in his mind.

"I hope there isn't a problem," he thought.

In the next instant, his figure blurred.

...…

Outside the secluded training ground, the air shifted violently as Ethan appeared atop a stone platform overlooking the territory. His presence descended like a sudden weight. Nearby guards stiffened, their instincts screaming as they felt pressure press down on their chests.

Hall was already there.

The mont Ethan appeared, Hall dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.

"Sir," Hall said, his voice steady but urgent, "it seems soone from the Empire is approaching."

Ethan looked toward the horizon.

Far away, a thin line of movent cut across the land. Even from this distance, he could feel it.

The might of the order and authority radiating from them.

The presence was controlled and deliberate. Not hostile, but far from friendly.

His expression remained calm.

"How many?" Ethan asked.

"A small group," Hall replied. "Cavalry escort. Their banner bears imperial markings, but they are not advancing aggressively."

Ethan nodded slowly.

"So they finally ca," he said quietly.

He glanced down at his hand. Faint traces of light and darkness still lingered around his fingers before fading completely.

"Did Rathlos give his opinion?" Ethan asked.

"Yes," Hall answered. "He believes it is an envoy, not an attack. But he advises caution."

Ethan gave a low hum.

'It seems he is adapting well to this new role.'

He looked back toward the approaching figures. His gaze was sharp and unreadable, as if weighing countless possibilities at once.

"Prepare the reception grounds," Ethan said calmly. "Make sure no weapons are drawn. There should be no hostility. But keep the periter tight."

"Yes, sir," Hall replied without hesitation.

Ethan stepped forward. His aura pulled back into himself, settling like a sleeping beast beneath calm skin.

"Let's see," he murmured, "what the Empire wants now."

As he spoke a faint expectation welled in his heart.

.....