Chapter 951

Yuder finally heard the news of success through the returning Steber's mouth.

“—I thought it was something I’d never understand, but the Commander grasped it instantly. I saw everything you did on the way here, and how the Commander handled it.”

Steber had encountered the aftermath of the massive current Yuder had caused not long after departing the mainland. At first, the overwhelming tremors rising from below and the ominous movements made him think: So the monsters have finally come this far.

Because of that, he had entered the water early—before reaching the location where Dover and the first team members were. And the moment he dove in, what he saw was an enormous horde... of unidentifiable junk, swept inland by a whirlwind-like current that had formed from the depths of the sea.

Yes, junk was the only way to describe it.

Bits of monsters—too transparent to discern clearly—mixed chaotically with seaweed and branches floating in the water. And the sight of the seawater pushing and sweeping it all along, almost as if it had a will of its own, was both awe-inspiring and surreal.

That massive current brushed beneath his feet as if it were nothing. Steber, dumbfounded by the unexpected situation, regained himself and used his power to head back toward land—to find out exactly what that was.

And then, not long after, he witnessed a colossal wave of sword energy from land that tore everything apart.

It’s said that true sword energy can split anything it touches. And the sword aura used by Kishiar did exactly that—it split not only the water but even the thick fog that had blanketed the sea.

For a brief moment, through the cleanly parted air, Steber saw the divine sword in the Commander's hand.

The sheer elegance and overwhelming presence of it.

Even though he only felt the tremor indirectly, from afar, with the sea soaked around him and the sword energy cutting through, Steber knew instantly—it was unforgettable.

Though he had never seen a Swordmaster’s aura in person, he knew what it was. Anyone from the Capital grew up hearing stories of the first Emperor, who left scars upon the land wielding the divine sword Orr, writing legends as he went.

The brilliant blue sword energy that could cleave sky and earth.

And the dazzling silver of the divine sword Orr, which emitted that energy to protect its wielder.

Steber had accompanied Kishiar not long ago when he visited the Capital at the Pope’s request to prove that he truly was the new master of the divine ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) sword. Though he was born and raised in the Capital, it was his first time setting foot into the innermost depths of the Grand Temple. It was beautiful—but in that overwhelming beauty lurked unease.

Most people there had arrived with red-rimmed eyes, filled with suspicion, convinced that Kishiar was deceiving them, determined to expose the falsehood. Even though the Emperor’s authority had long since waned and nobles no longer held royalty in high regard, their arrogance still shocked him. The barrage of insults was so harsh that even Steber’s fists trembled, and he had only been standing behind the Commander.

People who had probably never even held a real conversation with Kishiar la Orr sneered and mocked him in veiled words—and all Steber could do was endure. If it had been some hot-headed youngster instead, punches would’ve flown without hesitation.

That was likely why he had been selected.

But the Commander remained composed. He seemed a bit more fatigued than usual that day, though he showed no signs of it as he met their hostility with elegance and a calm smile. It almost seemed, on the surface, like Kishiar didn’t understand he was being mocked—but after every exchange, it was always the other party who turned red-faced.

Even in front of the Pope, who appeared last, he never lost that poise. He drew the divine sword Orr and held it up for all to see.

Unlike the sheath—drenched in gems and spell circles, flamboyant beyond measure—the exposed blade looked surprisingly plain. But that was just Steber’s impression, someone who didn’t know swords. The Pope and the others immediately fell silent.

“...May I see it up close?”

The Pope had poor eyesight. He brought a thick lens close to his eyes, carefully inspecting the blade, then slowly placed his hand on the flat of the sword.

He was verifying whether the divine sword truly reacted to divine power. Everyone’s eyes widened, afraid to miss even the slightest detail.

From the Pope’s wrinkled fingers, divine power slowly flowed. Not an overwhelming amount—certainly not compared to someone like Lusan, who could pour it out endlessly—but still more than most ordinary priests.

When the Pope lifted his hand, a new light rose upon the silver blade. Its unique, mystical aura could be felt by all present.

The light shimmered, forming what looked like symbolic script, then faded once more. Folding his hands, the Pope finally spoke:

“This is undoubtedly the true divine sword, Orr. It is an honor to witness the new wielder before I return to the embrace of the gods.”

The answer, soft but absolute, sent murmurs through the crowd. Some muttered, No way, while others questioned how he could be sure just by channeling divine power into the blade. They demanded more concrete verification.

The fact that anyone could say that, even after witnessing a miracle no one else could replicate, was astounding to Steber.

In the end, the one who overturned that noisy scene was none other than Kishiar himself.

“Verification, you say? I don’t mind.”

“Excellent. Then, immediately, let us try another—”

“Though I do have one concern. If we continue with further tests, might some misunderstand and think we’re doubting the divine power His Holiness himself just demonstrated? If not, then by all means.”

Smiling as if he genuinely didn’t know, he tilted his head—a disarmingly innocent gesture for someone of his stature. The air in the chamber instantly turned frigid.

Everyone here knew: these days, young priests were struggling because of their lack of divine power. Those gifted with it were forcibly sent to the Grand Temple. Lusan could’ve easily been chosen had he wanted.

To hide their inadequacy, some priests resorted to tricks—using artifacts to fake the glow of divine energy, for instance.

So Kishiar’s question... was essentially probing whether they were accusing the Pope of such disgraceful deceit.

No one may have thought that, but it was also true that they were loudly demanding additional verification—too eager to disprove someone.

The Pope, neutral and elderly, didn’t care. It was the greedy fools, obsessed with uncovering Duke Peleta’s lies, who had rushed ahead too carelessly.

Kishiar’s question struck precisely at that weakness, flipping the atmosphere instantly.

No matter how rude they were, no one dared claim—right in front of the Pope—that his divine power wasn’t real. It wasn’t just about the Pope. It would be an affront to the entire Temple of the Sun God and everything it represented.

The disrespectful ones instantly fell silent, and those serving the Pope turned sharper-eyed. Eventually, the loudmouths left in haste, muttering things like, Hopefully we’ll meet again. After a quiet private conversation with Kishiar, the Pope departed shortly thereafter.

Steber had been deeply satisfied—his only regret was not laughing out loud.

And now, standing before the southern sea, witnessing that same divine sword unleash an aura more powerful than anything else—he was even more moved than then.

For anyone who’d ever picked up a wooden sword and played knight with the neighborhood kids, like that Jimmy kid before Awakening, this was the very thing they dreamed of: the aura of a real Swordmaster.

He missed those rude bastards from the Capital dearly in this moment.

They should have seen this more than anyone!

It felt like witnessing a scene from myth...

At that point, Steber stopped several times, seemingly unable to express the feeling through hand signals alone.

“Anyway, once I saw how the Commander responded, I came straight back. I met Dover and the others too.”