System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Chapter 783: Chapter 783: The Devourer of Divine Steel

Ethan extended his hand and gripped the golden hilt. The moment he pulled, a metallic hiss echoed through the dining hall, and a thread of incandescent fire erupted from the blade, coiling around his arm like a serpent of light without burning him.

"It is magnificent," murmured Ethan, admiring the intricate ruby patterns and the scorching edge that made the surrounding air vibrate.

[It’s a good sword, Master... pity it was poorly forged], Crul’s voice suddenly echoed within his sea of consciousness, assessing the weapon with an expert tone. [Those materials aren’t even from this world; they likely came from an asteroid or something similar. However, it isn’t a total waste. You can use it to feed the Black Chaos Sword. Do the same thing you did back when you were in the Heavenly Sword Sect.]

Ethan didn’t hesitate. He sheathed the golden blade and, with a fluid motion of his free hand, summoned the black sword from his spatial ring.

King Alaric and Great General Vaelen watched the gesture in silence, assuming the youth was simply comparing the weight and balance of both weapons. However, what happened next left everyone present utterly frozen.

Ethan tossed the golden sword into the air. In the exact second the royal weapon reached its peak, Ethan traced a vertical arc with the black sword.

CRACK!

A sharp snap echoed through the room. The Soaring Kingdom’s royal sword—that legendary artifact that had endured countless battles without receiving a scratch—was cleaved cleanly in half in midair. Yet no splinters or fragments fell to the floor; the moment it shattered, the golden blade’s divine metal and fire essence seemed to liquefy, transforming into an incandescent mass that was ravenously absorbed by the black sword’s edge.

The black sword emitted a hum of satisfaction, swallowing every last drop of the mystic metal before the golden hilt crumbled to ashes upon the table.

King Alaric sprang up, knocking his chair over in the process. His face turned pale, his eyes reflecting horror—not over the loss of his kingdom’s treasure, but over the terrifying ease with which it had been destroyed.

"Where the hell did he get that sword?!" exclaimed King Alaric, pointing a trembling hand at Ethan’s dark blade. "That golden sword belonged to my family for generations... It clashed against the greatest legendary weapons across the continent without suffering a nick... and that thing snapped it like rotten wood!"

Great General Vaelen kept his hand glued to his own hilt, breaking out in a cold sweat at the devouring aura that had just emanated from the black sword.

Isabella, observing the scene with serene composure, stepped forward to break the suffocating tension.

"Your Majesty," intervened Isabella, clearly recalling the artifact’s origin. "Years ago, before sending Ethan on that mission, I acquired that sword at an auction. It was completely ruined; no one in the room could identify its origin or find any value in it. The only thing said was that it was ridiculously ancient and its metal was too hard to be shaped by any blacksmith."

Great General Vaelen stepped forward, pointing at the dark blade with his eyes wide in shock.

"Your Majesty, look!" exclaimed Great General Vaelen.

Upon the surface of the black sword, the incandescent liquid mass was completely reabsorbed. Immediately, a thin thread of red light began tracing itself across the dark metal, searing into the steel until forming an ancient symbol resembling a living flame. The edge emitted a pulse of heat before returning to a state of calm.

"Can that sword absorb other weapons to strengthen itself?" asked Great General Vaelen, swallowing hard. "Have you ever heard of such a thing, Your Majesty?"

King Alaric remained in complete silence, staring at the mark on the blade while slowly stroking his beard. His gaze turned distant, digging through memories of the oldest texts stored deep within his kingdom’s royal vault.

"Only once...", said King Alaric in a grave voice, snapping out of his trance. "There are fragmented records about the sovereign of an extinct empire from an extremely distant realm. It was said that the emperor strengthened his sacred weapon with the fresh blood of his enemies... but I have never heard of a metal capable of devouring and assimilating the essence of other legendary weapons. This is simply breathtaking."

Ethan gazed down at the new engraving on the black blade, feeling how the sword’s energy flow had grown even heavier and sharper.

[I told you, Master], Crul chimed in within his mind with a satisfied chuckle. [That golden piece of junk at least served to awaken the first attribute mark. Now your blade can slice through fire defenses with double the ease.]

Ethan stored the sword back into his spatial ring, looking toward King Alaric with a respectful nod.

"I apologize for destroying your kingdom’s treasure, Your Majesty," offered Ethan. "But I assure you its power was not wasted."

King Alaric let out a long sigh, shifting from shock to a resigned smile as he set his chair back upright.

"If that sword helps you slaughter our enemies in the tournament and return alive alongside Isabella...", replied King Alaric, "then it was worth every damn stone."

Ethan stood up, adjusting his robe’s sleeves as he looked at the two delegation leaders.

"From this moment on, I will enter closed-door cultivation," declared Ethan in a firm voice. "These remaining fifteen days are essential to push my power to its peak and fully master the sword’s new weight before entering the Secret Realm."

King Alaric and Great General Vaelen nodded in silence, understanding the gravity of the preparation ahead.

Ethan turned toward Isabella, his gaze softening as he offered her his hand.

"Isabella...", Ethan murmured in a low voice, "before I begin my seclusion... could I ask something of you in private?"

Isabella felt her pulse race once more. She glanced at the King and General, who offered mischievous smirks while giving them space, and gently squeezed Ethan’s fingers.

"Anything you wish, Ethan," replied Isabella, following him out of the dining room toward their private quarters.

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