Leon did not move immediately.
The gates of Blade Fortress had opened wide enough to swallow an army, yet he remained where he was—standing at the threshold, boots planted on the pale stone, as if testing whether the ground itself would dare reject him.
Servants slowed their steps.
Guards straightened unconsciously.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Leon lifted his gaze and calmly took in the fortress interior—the disciplined lines of soldiers, the polished stone corridors, the quiet efficiency born from fear and loyalty mixed in equal measure.
"So this is Blade Fortress," he said lightly, voice carrying just enough to reach the nearest guards. "Still gloomy. Still smells like old pride."
Felix paused behind him.
Nox blinked. "…You're provoking them already?"
Leon didn't answer.
He took one step forward.
The sound echoed.
Not loudly—but clearly.
It was enough.
Inside the fortress hall, Serilda felt it.
A strange pressure brushed against her senses, subtle but unmistakable—like a blade resting against the throat without cutting.
Her fingers tightened around the armrest of her chair.
Krone felt sweat trickle down his spine.
"He's… not hesitating," he muttered.
Serilda exhaled slowly.
"Of course he isn't."She rose from her seat, her long black hair cascading down her back, emerald eyes sharp and calculating.
"An illegitimate who walks into a lion's den without fear," she said. "Either a fool… or someone who already knows the outcome."
She turned to Krone.
"Escort him to the inner hall. No hostility. No threats."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I want to hear what he has to say—standing."
Back at the entrance, a captain approached Leon cautiously and bowed.
"Leon von Arcblade," he said, voice measured, "Lady Serilda requests your presence in the inner hall."
Leon tilted his head.
"Requests?" he repeated, amused. "That's new."
The captain stiffened.
Leon took another step forward—then stopped.
He turned slightly, glancing around at the fortress once more, as if committing it to memory.
Leon passed through the gates.
The sound of iron and stone sealing behind him faded quickly, swallowed by silence.
Not the tense silence of a fortress—
but the calm, deliberate quiet of a noble garden.
White gravel crunched softly beneath his boots as he walked forward.
Neatly trimmed hedges stretched on both sides, framing rows of blooming flowers that looked almost unreal in their perfection.
Mana lingered faintly in the air, nourishing petals of crimson, silver, and pale violet.
Tall trees stood like silent sentinels, their leaves barely swaying, as if even the wind knew it should behave here.
Leon's gaze drifted slowly.
Left.
Right.
Ahead.
He took it all in.
His eyes moved across the scenery—not with awe, but with quiet observation. The beauty registered, yet it failed to stir excitement.
To Leon, the garden felt less like nature and more like control given form.
"It truly is beautiful," he said.
The words were sincere, though detached.
Nox drifted beside him, arms crossed. "Only because it isn't Katana Castle."
Leon didn't respond.
He understood what Nox meant. Katana Castle had been small,old,crumbling with detoriating paint and walls.
This place wore elegance like armor.
As he continued walking, servants noticed him.
their rhythm faltered whenever they noticed him.
A maid hesitated before lowering her head.
A gardener paused mid-motion, fingers tightening around his tools before he remembered to bow.
Leon noticed every one of them.
He didn't look at their faces directly, but the slight disturbances in their movements were enough.
Confusion clung to them—quiet, unspoken, and shared.
His attire marked him as an Arcblade, yet his presence didn't match the image they expected.
He was too calm. Too ordinary. Not grand enough for a blooded heir, yet far too composed to be dismissed as an outsider.
Leon understood exactly what unsettled them.
He neither corrected their assumptions nor acknowledged their uncertainty. Doing so would only give it weight.
Nox drifted beside him, smirking faintly. "They don't know whether to bow deeper or pretend you don't exist."
Leon's lips curved ever so slightly. "Let them struggle."
There was no bitterness in his tone—only indifference.
The servants eventually resumed their duties, though their attention lingered at the edges of their vision.
Whispers did not form, but questions did.
Leon walked on, unbothered.
He had learned long ago that hesitation revealed more than hostility ever could.
Inner Hall :
Leon stepped fully into the inner hall.
Compared to the outer corridors, this place felt like a world of its own—grand yet restrained, lavish without being excessive.
Ancient silver pillars carved with Arcblade sigils supported the high ceiling, while mana-lamps embedded in the walls emitted a soft, steady glow.
Elegant furniture crafted from rare woods and enchanted metals was arranged with deliberate symmetry, each piece carrying quiet authority rather than loud luxury.
The walls were crowded with portraits.
Some were traditional oil paintings, others were crystal frames formed by photon catchers—a light capturing device,an magical version of a camera.
Generations of Arcblades stared back from the walls: warriors, mages, conquerors, and rulers, each one bearing a different expression of power.
Nox drifted in a slow circle, eyes darting everywhere.
"…Why is this place so much grander than Katana Castle?"
Leon glanced around once, his expression neutral.
"Because of my father. Victor von Arcblade."
Nox tilted his head. "Your father?"
"He was talentless," Leon said calmly, as if stating a distant fact.
"Called a disgrace by the family. So they gave him an old, forgotten castle at the edge of the territory. Katana Castle."
Nox blinked, then grinned. "Ahhh. So this is the main branch privilege version."
Leon nodded once.
Nox added cheerfully, "Too bad even that castle got destroyed."
Leon stopped walking.
For a brief moment, his shoulders stiffened. Then he let out a long breath, lifting a hand to his face. His eyes glistened just slightly.
"…Don't remind me," he muttered.
Nox burst out laughing. "You cried! You're crying!"
"I am not—" Leon turned away sharply. "It's just dust."
Felix, meanwhile, hadn't been paying attention to their exchange.
He stood frozen before a massive portrait at the far end of the hall.
The frame itself was larger than all the others, carved from black stone streaked with gold.
Within it stood a single man—tall, broad-shouldered, his physique honed to perfection.
His armor was not simple,but grand, every inch of it radiated authority.
In his hand rested a sword that looked neither ornate nor crude, but absolute—as if it existed solely to cut down anything unworthy.
Even as a still image, the presence pressed outward.
The air around the portrait felt heavier. Sharper.
Felix's eyes narrowed.
"…Who is this?" he asked slowly. "Even that prime demon didn't have this much presence."
Leon and Nox turned.
Nox went silent.
Leon's gaze lingered on the portrait longer than before.
"That," Leon said quietly, "is the Patriarch of the Arcblade family."
Felix frowned. "Just a human?"
Leon smiled faintly. "That's what makes it terrifying."
He took a step forward, his voice steady, respectful.
"The man who stood at the summit of swordsmanship."
"The one who carved his name into history without borrowing power from gods."
Felix felt it then—
The weight.
Not intimidation.
Not fear.
But Recognition.
Leon continued.
"He mastered the swordsmanship to It's highest Rank,15th Rank,While only 2 people achieved it the Founder Lucas and The Swordsman of heroes party."
"A magic swordsman who erased the boundary between Mortal and Godhood."
Nox swallowed. "…Rank 15?The peak and the highest rank of swordsmanship?"
Leon nodded.
"A being who transcended mortal limits,"
Leon said.
"He is on the level of legendary Hero Lucas."
Felix's eyes widened.
Leon's tone grew solemn.
"He is one of the Thirteen Ascended Sovereigns—humans who rose beyond humanity itself."
He looked up at the portrait.
"But even among them… he stood at the top."
He exhaled slowly. "A human… at the peak of existence,and a god who even slayed countless demi-gods and dragon kings like nothing and even slayed a primordial dragon.And he is One who is said to be as powerful as a God."
Leon spoke the title as if it were etched into the world itself.
Valric von Arcblade,The Blade That Touched Divinity,The Sword Sovereign.
"In short," Leon finished, "the strongest human in existence and my grandfather,the current patriarch of the Arcblade family."
The hall remained silent.
Nox hovered in the center of the inner hall, tiny arms folded, eyes blazing.
"Hey, Leon… when I asked you before, you said only two people have ever achieved rank fifteen—Lucas and the Sword Hero. But now… now you're telling me there's another?"
Leon glanced at him, suppressing a smirk.
"Ah… well…I forgot."
Nox's voice rose, sharp as a blade. "Forgot?! Ridiculous! That man is a rank fifteen swordsman! The pinnacle of sword mastery!
The same level as Lucas! Even surpassing… God! And you—" he jabbed a finger at Leon
"forgot him!?".
Leon let out a soft, amused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… I suppose I did almost forget. He's… been mostly out of the picture, that's all."
Nox's wings twitched with indignation.
"Mostly out of the picture? Mostly? Leon! You don't just forget a swordsman of that caliber! A living legend! He's—he's…"
"Stop screaming at me," Leon interrupted lightly, though his eyes sparkled with mirth. "Can you stop yelling at me?...And why are you getting this overwhelmed for a strong human?"
"You just don't know how difficult it will be conquering this world for me...again!".