Johann stood silently at the corner, hands lowered.
He had been the first to draw a sword.
But he had only managed to draw the fifth one-Wrath.
When his hand moved to the sixth blade, Envy, the dragon-scale mechanisms along the hilt bristled violently and rejected him outright.
Now, every gaze in the office turned toward Morin.
If the S-rank Luminous had failed only because of insufficient strength, then surely another S-rank-Morin-should be able to draw all seven of the Seven Deadly Sins with ease... right?
The Vice-Principal, the old cowboy, calmly pushed the drawn swords back into the long black box and gestured for Morin to step forward.
Morin didn't hesitate.
He walked up, placed his hand directly on the final sword-
Pride.
He gripped the hilt.
And pulled.
Normally, the Seven Deadly Sins required specific conditions to awaken. Before awakening, they were little more than extraordinarily sharp and durable swords; even an ordinary person could pull them out.
But before this test began, the Vice-Principal had used a drop of blood to awaken them.
Now, they were alive.
Seven swords.
Seven heartbeats.
As though seven hearts of steel throbbed within the box, each demanding a bloodline strong enough to command them.
There was also a hidden requirement-raw physical strength.
That was where Luminous had failed.
There was no fixed order for drawing the swords, but from Lust to Pride, the requirements increased steadily. Morin only needed to draw Pride to prove he could draw all six others.
The moment his hand touched the eight-sided Han sword-
Bang!
Pride leapt inside the box with a thunderous crash.
Everyone's pupils constricted.
When Luminous had held Pride, the sword hadn't reacted at all-it had been so quiet it was as if it hadn't even awakened.
So why did Morin's touch provoke such a violent response?
Excitement?
Or fear?
Rejection?
Luminous stared at Morin's hand.
The dragon-scale barbs hadn't flared to resist him.
So it wasn't rejection.
Then just how terrifying was Morin's bloodline, to provoke such a reaction?
No one knew.
"Not bad."
Morin applied a little force.
Pride slid out of the box.
The magnetic restraint that held the awakened swords in place vanished like a joke before him.
As expected, Pride did not acknowledge him.
Eastern dragons and Western dragons had nothing to do with one another.
As for why he could still pull the sword out smoothly despite its rejection?
There's a saying-
Brute force creates miracles.
The dragon-scale barbs bristled violently, but beneath Morin's palm, they couldn't stir even the faintest ripple.
After being dragged out so casually, Pride seemed deeply offended.
The entire blade trembled faintly, emitting a deep, bell-like hum.
But soon-
Silence.
The sword stopped vibrating, obediently resting in Morin's hand.
Aside from the blood-red light flickering along its blade, it looked almost identical to its dormant state.
"I guess it was just a little excited earlier," Morin said lightly as he placed Pride on the desk.
If Pride could speak, it would be cursing him with every ounce of its existence.
Excited?
You aren't qualified!
You forced me out!
Worse still-you actually had the strength to do it without taking any damage!
And then, when I resisted, you suppressed me with some formless power until I couldn't even move!
Since the day it was forged, Pride had never encountered a being like this.
In the past, aside from its creator Norton, every hybrid treated it like a sacred relic-something meant to slay gods.
And now it had been yanked out like a stubborn drawer.
If swords could die of rage, Pride would have perished on the spot.
"Boss is awesome! Boss is mighty!"
Luminous immediately offered his daily praise.
Given that they were clearly headed toward a mission where survival was uncertain, he felt it was important to praise even harder. Maybe Morin would look after him a bit more when things went south.
"It seems the test is over."
The Vice-Principal waved his hand like a tired employee finishing his shift.
"The rest of you, go to the library control room. Your instructors are waiting. Mission details and screening conditions will be explained there."
Morin and the others left.
Once they were gone, the Vice-Principal sat down, frowning slightly as he looked at Pride lying unnaturally still on the desk.
"At least we can now confirm that Luminous is truly an S-rank," Anjou said quietly. "As for Morin... do you understand what just happened?"
"When you asked me to conduct this test, I thought you were overreacting," the Vice-Principal said slowly. "But now... things are moving in a direction we can neither control nor predict."
He stared at Pride.
"The King of Bronze and Fire. The King of Oceans and Water. If all of that is true, it would mean the unprecedented awakening of two Lords without warning."
"And then there's Morin."
"I can't see through him."
"It's not that you can't," Anjou said sharply. "It's that you're afraid to say your guess out loud."
"That was not the reaction an eligible person should trigger."
"Luminous is eligible. You could even call it submission."
"In my view, he's an S-rank among S-ranks."
"But Morin?"
"Neither you nor I could make Pride react like that."
"You know that."
The Vice-Principal nodded grimly.
"My research into alchemical armaments suggests Pride wasn't merely rejecting him."
"It was acting as though it had encountered a mortal enemy."
"It's just that Morin possesses a method-or power-we don't understand, forcing Pride into submission."
He lowered his voice.
"In your memory, is there any power, or race, that isn't dragon, yet rivals dragons... and stands as their mortal enemy?"
"The Aesir," Anjou said instantly.
"I thought so too," the Vice-Principal replied. "But Morin is Chinese. The Aesir and the East are worlds apart."
"So I thought further."
"If Norse gods and dragons were real... then could Eastern gods have existed as well?"
"And did the northern dragons hold grudges against them too?"
"If that's true," Anjou said slowly, "our scope of research expands beyond imagination."
"Just a guess," the Vice-Principal said hurriedly. "Bold hypotheses, careful verification-standard procedure!"
"I like your guess," Anjou nodded. "So I've decided you'll lead this research."
The Vice-Principal froze.
"No! I just scheduled a swimsuit pageant!"
"At a time like this?" Anjou stared.
"Efficiency requires balance between work and leisure!"
"Your 'work' is standing around maintaining your Soul Skill," Anjou said mercilessly. "It's settled. Focus on this project."
"As for the swimsuit pageant-"
"I'll be a judge."
"You old pervert!" the Vice-Principal roared.
"Please," Anjou corrected calmly. "A refined old gentleman."
Elsewhere.
Morin reflected quietly.
They're already connecting the dots.
Everything is ready.
Now all that's left is accelerating Norton's hatching.
I really should've asked more questions earlier... like whether I needed to simulate incubation conditions.
It's awkward to ask now.
Samson is... painfully simple.
In terms of age, Morin wasn't older than Samson.
But in experience?
Samson was like a child who had locked himself away for a thousand years.
Morin excelled at "educating" such children-
For example, by offering a "blood donation is good for you" package.
As a knowledgeable authority, listing benefits was easy.
Morin glanced at Samson, who lay unconscious on the floor, breathing faintly.
After a moment of thought, Morin tossed several handfuls of red dates into the pot he was boiling.
Red dates were good for blood, right?
Probably.
In the library control room, Schneider's raspy voice echoed:
"Due to terrain constraints, entering White Emperor City presents two major difficulties..."
"...a fully revived King of Bronze and Fire..."
"...the Nibelungen under his control..."
"...and the suspected King of Oceans and Water..."
"In water, our combat effectiveness will drop drastically."
"We may face two Dragon Kings simultaneously."
"Sounds impregnable," Caesar muttered.
"There is no historical precedent," Schneider said grimly.
Morin spoke calmly:
"To be blunt-we cannot take the offensive there."
"Then we prepare for the worst," Schneider concluded bitterly.