The name was decided quickly after they thought about the characteristics and materials used in the weapon.
Doomsday.
The sword seemed to possess the essence of the fire of a hundred Dragons — a heat so intense that it consumed everything around it without distinction.
Its mere presence was capable of transforming the surrounding world into an immolating hell, burning the ground, rock and even making the very air grow hotter.
Doomsday, the Day of Final Judgment, seemed a title worthy of such destruction.
Moreover, the title of Rygar that was most circulating to other countries at the moment was Apocalypse Beast.
The Apocalypse Beast wielding a blade called Doomsday seemed quite appropriate.
Anyway, Rygar thought it was good enough to be memorable.
As soon as the name was chosen, the collection teams began arriving at the site and started removing all the 'materials' from the battlefield.
Godbard kept examining the sword for a while, observing its measurements and specifications, and after some time he declared:
"I'll make a sheath for this blade as quickly as possible."
And without further ado he left, calling Rufus to accompany him.
Brightstone, on the other hand, went straight back to his refinery with a new and audacious objective: to forge a series of swords that would rival the legendary 48 sacred and cursed blades of Yulian Jalisco.
After all, Rygar's new sword had been made only with the hundred mana cores of the dragons.
There still remained bones, joints, claws and horns… each part of a dragon was a treasure for any blacksmith.
And with the amount of material that was in the dwarves' hands at that moment, perhaps in about ten years, or even less, the Kingdom of Gaia would be equipped with even more lethal weapons.
With everything settled, Rygar left the mountain ranges behind.
For him, the creation of that weapon was an important milestone, but he did not stop to admire the scenery or reflect on what had caused it.
For the collection teams… the visual impact was crushing.
The nearby mountains had melted like wax under an unrelenting sun; one of them, in particular, had disappeared completely, reduced to a lake of cooled and twisted lava.
Due to reports from workers and travelers who passed through that Region, it was later named on the Kingdom's map as Molten Mountain.
While flying through the skies of the Great Forest with the Doomsday in hand, Rygar's thoughts wandered to an old objective, one he had brought from his previous world: the Spatial Storage.
In his past world, that magical technology was almost a narrative cliché — common in fantasy worlds of anime, games and movies, existing only to give convenience to the protagonist.
But here… he had never seen anything remotely similar. And he understood why.
With his magical mastery, Rygar knew well the difficulty of manipulating space.
Even Gravity Magic and the intricate matrices of Barrier Magic were absurdly complex things.
Storing objects inside a separate space would be a monumental challenge… and that's not to mention that simple spatial displacement was already considered Forbidden Magic in current times.
The only concrete clue Rygar had about that type of Magic was from Perugius Dola, the Armored Dragon King.
Verdia had said she had met him once; he was recognized as one of the very rare God-level mages in the whole world.
An absolute master of the arts of Summoning and Barrier. And, according to some reports, he even knew Teleportation Magic.
If he had the time, Rygar would already have flown to the Floating Fortress to meet him.
But the past few years had been a whirlwind of responsibilities, and the idea of leaving his women alone at that moment still bothered him.
Not that it was urgent — the thought had resurfaced now only because his new sword still did not have a sheath.
He simply wasn't used to carrying it like that, in plain sight of everyone.
He didn't carry many things besides weapons, only his swords in sheaths.
But a spatial storage would really make his life much more practical.
Lost in these reflections, Rygar spotted in the distance the familiar outlines of the Beastly Territory. With a final adjustment of flight, he headed straight for the Combat Temple.
But while flying toward the Combat Temple, Rygar had a sudden thought.
Gretta.
She should be returning to the Demon Continent today, if he was not mistaken.
Despite occupying one of the places among the Gaia Twelve Kings, Gretta was, above all, a Demon King — and that meant she had her own province to govern on the Demon Continent.
Not that she was the kind to get directly involved in administration… but her mere presence, overwhelming strength and leadership were usually enough to keep most threats at bay.
In a way, the fact that she had stayed for a whole year after the end of the war had already been an immense favor.
That period also gave space for Ornthorn to try to court her.
Gretta was certainly a very attractive woman.
But when he observed the two side by side, he always thought that the height difference must intimidate him, at least a little.
At the same time, Rygar wondered if that was exactly what Ornthorn found particularly seductive.
Remembering her imminent departure, Rygar adjusted his course, leaving the direct path to the Temple and heading for Gretta's residence, which was a short distance away.
Some time later, he landed in front of the house.
Ornthorn, Gretta and Verdia were talking side by side.
The contrast between the small green-haired half-breed and the imposing figure of the demon-woman was somewhat comical.
She looked like a giant next to him — but a mountain with dangerously well-defined curves.
From their expressions and posture, Rygar quickly deduced that the farewell was already taking place.
Gretta wasn't carrying any luggage, only the clothes on her body, which was typical for a Demon King.
The only thing she brought was her halberd, resting on her shoulder naturally.
Rygar landed softly, leaving the Doomsday hanging at his waist, held only by an improvised string.
As he approached, Gretta was the first to speak, with a smile full of familiarity:
"Hey, chief! So you really came to say goodbye, huh?" She feigned a hurt expression. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten me!"
Rygar greeted Ornthorn with a nod and replied with a crooked smile:
"Ah, but I forgot. It was sheer luck I arrived in time. It so happens the sword was finished today."
The Demon King's smile froze instantly.
Nearby, Verdia stifled a laugh and walked up to Rygar, greeting him with a brief kiss.
"Tch!" Gretta snorted. "You start dating and you already begin abandoning your friends!"
Rygar released Verdia, turning to Gretta with seriousness in his voice:
"Thank you for all the help during the war, Gretta. the peoples of the Great Forest would have suffered much more without you."
She waved her hand nonchalantly. "It was nothing. I owed Verdia a debt."
"But it won't be so easy to convince me next time!"
Her gaze wandered to the forests, and her tone dropped slightly.
"Although… I think with all those guys joining your Kingdom, you won't need my strength."
She turned to Ornthorn and raised an eyebrow:
"Remember your promise, Mini Superd!"
Ornthorn forced an awkward smile.
"Alright. I'll see you again in seven years, Gretta."
She seemed satisfied with the answer. Without more, she spun on her heels and began to walk away.
"If you're in trouble, you can always come back here" Rygar said, but she didn't look back.
She only waved her hand and, in an explosive leap, launched herself toward the limits of the Great Forest, heading for the Demon Continent.
Rygar watched until she disappeared on the horizon, before turning to Ornthorn:
"What promise was that she mentioned?"
The half-breed sighed, seeming a little embarrassed:
"She finally agreed to marry me… three days ago. But she said she wouldn't marry anyone under a hundred years old. I'm ninety-three. So we agreed that, in seven years, I'll go to the Demon Continent to take her as my wife."
Verdia seemed to remember something, commenting casually:
"That's right, she had such a rule…"
"Yeah" Ornthorn sighed again, but this time with a slight smile. "At least now I'm certain! What are seven years, after all?"
Rygar smiled back, genuinely happy for his friend.
But, since the farewell had already ended, he took the opportunity to resolve a doubt that had been bothering him for some time:
"Ornthorn… don't you think she's too tall for you?"
Verdia couldn't resist and burst into laughter even before Ornthorn answered. The North Emperor frowned in displeasure.
"What do you mean by that? I'm doing this for my descendants! By marrying a very tall woman they will be saved from the same fate as mine!"
He had a serious expression, as if he had just revealed an ancestral secret.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away with a triumphant air.
Verdia could barely stop laughing, leaning on Rygar so as not to lose her balance.
Rygar, for his part, was still processing the logic… and ended up murmuring, somewhat surprised with himself: "Wait… that actually makes sense?"
---
After Gretta's farewell, Rygar, Verdia and Ornthorn went together to the Combat Temple.
Ornthorn, wasting no time, headed straight to find Clint, since they usually trained together.
He also had to fight challengers who wanted to take his position among the Twelve Kings.
Verdia, on the other hand, was excused from the official challenges now that her pregnancy was underway.
Still, that did not prevent her from maintaining constant practice of magic.
Her training continued almost the same as before, only adapted to avoid risks.
Halfway there, Rygar felt a slight pulse of mana in the inner pocket of his cloak.
He took out a small communication crystal, which shimmered softly. Upon looking at it, he read a message that he discovered was from Aisha:
"My mother arrived! She's here at the Academy! I'll take her home tonight!"
An almost imperceptible smile appeared on Rygar's lips and he shared the news with his wife.
Verdia, noticing the change in his mood, tilted her head and asked, curious:
"So, finally, that Lilia arrived… You said she was a swordswoman?"
"She is," Rygar answered, still with a trace of satisfaction in his voice.
"But only an Intermediate-level swordswoman. I don't know if she's improved much in these last years."
Verdia arched an eyebrow, looking at her husband inquisitively:
"And… didn't you kill her husband, Paul? Isn't she going to be upset?"
"Probably," Rygar admitted, with a resigned sigh. "But I can do nothing but apologize. And hope that Aisha can convince her not to be so angry."
A slight smile appeared on Verdia's face. "You care about her."
"Well…" Rygar said in a casual tone "…she traveled with us for a long time. She's a good person, and an excellent cook."
Rygar noticed the tone; she was likely probing whether he felt something more.
But Rygar did not see Lilia that way.
She was an attractive and mature woman, but she did not fit the type of woman he would consider for a lifetime.
With the matter set aside, they entered the Combat Temple.
Verdia headed to the magic training area, with the clear objective of continuing to master Lightning until it was fully usable in combat.
Rygar, for his part, in addition to offering instruction and guidance to the disciples, began a different training.
He went to one of the temple's most resilient arenas — one built especially to withstand the forces and impacts of Fire Magic.
There, he again drew the Doomsday.
The weight of the blade, the subtle vibration of energy that ran through his body from the blade, the sensation of heat that seemed to merge with his Battle Aura… all of it was new, but strangely natural.
He needed to get used to it, to fully understand it.
Rygar had no doubt that this new sword would have a crucial role in his future battles.
And if he wanted to extract all of its potential, he would need to spend hours, days, perhaps weeks, exploring every inch of that infernal blade.
-----
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