Chapter 76
Not long after, new visitors arrived at the front gates of the main estate of the Rheingrim family — Banapen Fortress.
“Finally here, are they?”
“Heh, quite the flashy entrance.”
Located in the northern region, the Rheingrim family was known for its practical and austere style. The knights’ armor was almost always black — symbolizing strength and solemnity.
But in stark contrast, the group appearing at the gate wore dazzling garments, a splendid blend of shimmering gold and luxurious royal purple.
Their escorts, armed with long, sharp lances, carried themselves with elegant precision and overwhelming discipline.
“Is that… the Pallas family?”
“I heard they’ve been doing well lately. Looks like their prestige matches the rumors.”
“And the head of this delegation — isn’t he that famous Divine Spear?”
“Yeah, and apparently his genius disciple is with him too.”
“Oh, the third son of the Saint of Spears?”
As murmurs spread among the Rheingrim swordsmen, the delegation passed through the gate.
At the front stood a young man whose golden hair gleamed like sunlight, his warm, orange eyes radiating an almost divine glow.
“That must be the disciple of the Divine Spear.”
“They say he’s the strongest candidate for the next heir of the Pallas family.”
“What was his name again…? Ah, right — Arne. Arne Pallas.”
While the swordsmen gossiped, someone pointed behind the boy and shouted:
“There — that’s the Divine Spear himself!”
Unlike the warm, radiant aura of Arne Pallas, the man behind him emanated a searing, sharp intensity — a force that seemed to pierce the air itself.
It was Kaicel Valerion, the Divine Spear (신창) of the Pallas family.
A middle-aged man with crimson hair and eyes dark as obsidian, Kaicel stood silently, yet his presence was impossible to ignore.
At that moment—
“Welcome, descendants of Pallas, to the house of Rheingrim.”
The one greeting them at the gate was Oswell Rheingrim, the second son of Northern Sword Duke Daimon, and the current Lord of the Flying Heaven Hall (비천당).
“It’s been a while, uncle!”
Arne smiled brightly and bowed with enthusiasm.
To everyone’s surprise, the two were related by blood — Oswell’s wife (and Seron’s mother) was a direct descendant of the Pallas family, in fact the younger sister of the current Saint of Spears himself.
“Hahaha, I’m pleased to see you too, young master Arne. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”
“Please, uncle — speak comfortably. Just call me Arne like before.”
“I would love to, but since you’re officially representing the Pallas delegation, I must keep things formal,” Oswell replied politely.
Kaicel Valerion nodded approvingly.
“Lord Oswell is correct, my lord. For now, this is official business.”
Arne pouted playfully. “Understood, master. Then… Uncle, how’s Seron doing?”
“He’s currently at the training hall, undergoing swordsmanship training.”
“Wow! The famous Rheingrim Training Hall?!”
Arne’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and Oswell chuckled softly.
“Yes, indeed.”
“Then, when all this business is done, could I visit the training hall? Like a field trip, maybe? I’ve always wanted to see it!”
Oswell blinked, slightly taken aback.
“Well, that’s…”
Kaicel stepped in smoothly, correcting his disciple with calm authority.
“My lord, such matters should be formally requested from the Sword Duke after our delegation’s business is concluded.”
Oswell nodded gratefully at Kaicel’s tactful handling, and Kaicel returned the gesture with a faint smile — silent understanding passing between the two veterans.
“Now then,” Oswell said, “please follow me to the reception hall. My lord is waiting inside.”
At the throne — the seat reserved only for the ruler of the North — sat Sword Duke Daimon Rheingrim himself.
“I, Arneisio of House Pallas, greet the Lord of the Northern Skies. Here is the letter my lord entrusted to me.”
The golden-haired boy bowed deeply and presented a gilded letter with both hands. Daimon studied him in silence.
“So, you are the one destined to succeed the Saint of Spears, are you?”
House Pallas, one of the Nine Pillars, was known as the House of the Spear Saint, in contrast to the sword-focused Rheingrim family. Their leader bore the title Spear Saint (창성) — a master warrior who led both family and nation.
Arne replied humbly,
“I’m honored by your words, but I have two elder brothers far more qualified than I.”
“Elder brothers, you say…” Daimon murmured, glancing meaningfully at Oswell, then shifted his gaze to Kaicel Valerion.
“Kaicel, do you truly think so as well?”
The title “Divine Spear” was not hereditary — it was given only to the greatest warrior outside the direct bloodline. Kaicel Valerion, though unrelated to the Pallas family by blood, had achieved that title through sheer skill and strength.
Hence, when Kaicel spoke, the room fell silent.
“In my humble opinion, I do not know who will inherit the title of Spear Saint in the future… but the only one possessing the talent worthy of that title — is Lord Arne.”
The Rheingrim swordsmen’s eyes gleamed sharply at Kaicel’s firm declaration.
“Oh-ho, so the Divine Spear himself has already chosen the next Saint,” Daimon said, his lips curling in amusement. Then his gaze hardened.
“Tell me, Arne of House Russell — are you saying you do not desire the title of Spear Saint?”
Arne froze. The weight of Daimon’s gaze was crushing — as if a mountain bore down upon him. His knees buckled.
“Kh…!”
Kaicel immediately stepped forward, bowing deeply.
“Please, Lord Daimon, forgive him.”
“Tch.”
With a click of his tongue, Daimon’s oppressive aura vanished. Only then did Arne’s face regain color. Trembling, he stammered,
“I… I’m sorry, but I have no words to offer right now.”
“I see,” Daimon muttered lazily, leaning to one side on his throne.
“Hey, you sluggish old man.”
“Yes, my lord,” Oswell replied smoothly, not even blinking at the insult.
“From now on, handle all discussions with the Pallas delegation yourself. Administrative, diplomatic — all of it. I’ve nothing more to say.”
“I understand, my lord.”
Daimon then turned to Arne with a faint smirk.
“And as for you, bright and lively heir of Pallas… I heard you wanted to visit our training hall?”
“…!”
That conversation had only taken place privately — between Arne, Oswell, and Kaicel — while walking to the hall barely an hour ago. Yet Daimon already knew.
‘How… how could he possibly know that?’
Before Arne could respond, Kaicel stepped in again, bowing respectfully.
“Lord Arne has long desired to meet the young talents of House Rheingrim. With your permission, may our delegation — including several spear trainees — visit your training hall?”
“Of course,” Daimon replied easily. “You’re welcome to look around as much as you like.”
The simplicity of his answer left both Kaicel and Arne momentarily stunned.
“Thank you for your generosity, my lord—”
“We’re truly grateful—”
But before they could finish, Daimon’s smile deepened.
“In fact, Kaicel, why not let your bright, promising disciples compare themselves with ours? Wouldn’t that make the visit more… memorable?”
“…What?”
“I hope it’s an enjoyable experience,” Daimon said, his grin widening.
Kaicel felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced at Oswell — but the man stood still and silent, his face unreadable.
Kaicel quickly bowed. “Then, we shall take our leave.”
“Go ahead. And tell Lord Russell I’ve received his letter well.”
With a casual wave of the hand, Daimon dismissed them.
Once they had left the mansion and were some distance away, Arne finally exhaled.
“Phew… I still have no idea what just happened, master.”
“You did well, my lord,” Kaicel said softly.
“The rumors were true… The Lord of the North — just meeting his eyes made it hard to breathe.”
“He is a monster, even our own Spear Saint finds difficult to face,” Kaicel admitted. “It’s no shame to feel overwhelmed.”
Arne chuckled awkwardly. “So even you were nervous?”
Kaicel smiled bitterly. “I am far from his equal — at least for now.”
“Huh?”
“Though who knows what the future holds,” Kaicel added, his tone firming. “Still, one thing is certain — the spear of Pallas is not inferior to the sword of Rheingrim.”
His conviction rekindled Arne’s spirit.
“Right!”
Though none could rival Daimon Rheingrim — the Sword Duke of the North — that was only because he still lived. Without him, Pallas would surely rise to match them.
“Anyway,” Arne said eagerly, “since everything’s settled, we can finish up the formalities and then go visit the training hall!”
Kaicel chuckled. “As you wish, my lord.”
They still didn’t understand how Daimon had known their private conversation — but given that the man was rumored to be a being beyond common sense, perhaps even beyond heaven itself…
‘It probably doesn’t matter,’ Kaicel thought.
And so, the Divine Spear simply followed behind his cheerful disciple, ready to face whatever awaited at the Rheingrim training grounds.
