Silas became extremely wary of Ashan the moment his tone shifted from negotiation to dismissal.
"So he is basically saying that he would not give that," Silas muttered, his brows knitting together. His fingers tapped once against the table, then stilled. "This is unacceptable."
The air in the chamber grew tense.
On the other side of the connection, Sheliya's expression also darkened. Her calm demeanor didn't shatter, but her authority sharpened noticeably.
"We have no proof that he earned that through a duel," Sheliya said firmly, addressing Sisiliya through the device. "Either he provides evidence, or he gives the sword."
Her voice was steady.
Decisive.
The words echoed in Ashan's ears.
For a brief moment, there was silence.
Then,
An intense killing intent began to pour out from Ashan.
It wasn't wild.
It wasn't explosive.
It was focused.
Oppressive.
His Sharingan slowly turned toward Sisiliya, crimson irises spinning mercilessly as they locked onto her.
Sisiliya gasped.
Her breath hitched.
The pressure felt like invisible hands pressing down on her shoulders.
Draven's hand instantly went to his sword.
Eirena's did the same.
The faint scrape of steel shifting inside their scabbards broke the heavy quiet.
"Are you saying that I'm lying in order to own this thing?" Ashan asked, his voice dangerously calm.
The killing intent thickened.
"How disrespectful."
His gaze didn't waver.
"How can I give evidence? Are you telling me to revive that monster again so you can question it?"
A faint crack appeared beneath his foot as chakra seeped into the ground.
"I was just thinking of exchanging this for something with you."
A pause.
"But I changed my mind."
Ashan stepped closer to Sisiliya.
Not rushing.
Not lunging.
Just walking until he stood directly before her.
He leaned forward slightly and looked straight into her eyes.
The red glow of his Sharingan reflected in her pupils.
"Tell those arrogant fools this," he said quietly. "I'll give it away to anyone who can beat me with a sword."
His lips curved faintly. "Open challenge.Come prepared."
His tone sharpened.
"I'll break at least one limb of whoever steps up."
The declaration traveled instantly through the linked connections.
On the other end, Silas's veins bulged.
Garrick's jaw tightened.
Sheliya's fingers curled against the armrest of her chair.
Among the three of them, Silas was the most enraged.
But beneath that rage, a strange excitement flickered in his eyes.
He suddenly leaned forward toward the screen.
"I accept!" Silas barked.
Mana flared faintly around him.
"I will fight that bastard myself. I'll rip his limbs apart and take that sword."
He turned slightly toward Sheliya's profile.
"You don't have a problem with that, right?"
Then back to the device.
"Sisiliya, hold that masked bastard there. I'm coming right now."
Back in the dungeon, Ashan narrowed his eyes.
"Who is that?" he asked, voice calm. "It seems like the same one who was trying to buy the sword earlier."
A slight pause.
"Sounds like an old fart."
His gaze shifted back to Sisiliya.
"Tell me. Who is he?"
Sisiliya's thoughts became chaotic.
If she said it was Silas, it would sound like she acknowledged the insult.
"Why are you not talking?" Ashan's voice turned colder. "Tell me who he is."
She swallowed.
Finally, she spoke.
"That person is Silas Wolven."
She hesitated briefly.
"One of the strongest S-rankers in our country."
Ashan's expression didn't change much. He casually sent the sword into his storage.
The weapon disappeared instantly.
"Ara ara… the so-called Sword Saint."
His tone shifted slightly.
"What a surprise."
A faint smirk formed.
"I'm amused to know that he is willing to fight me."
He extended his hand toward Sisiliya.
"Madam, why don't you give that device to me and allow me to talk with him directly?"
Sisiliya hesitated for only a second before removing the device and handing it to him.
A grin appeared on Ashan's face as he wore it.
"Silas Wolven," Ashan said smoothly. "Now you can talk with me directly."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Be honest. Are you still going to fight me after seeing what I'm capable of?"
On the other side, Silas clenched his teeth so hard a faint cracking sound echoed.
He slammed his table violently.
"You damn bastard!" he roared. "How dare you look down on me?"
The force of his mana shattered the chair he had been sitting on.
"Do you think I, the Sword Saint, will fear you?"
His aura surged.
"I am the strongest sword user. You are below my capabilities!"
Ashan responded without missing a beat.
"Blah, blah."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Then I'm the king of curses. The one who reached the pinnacle of the slash itself."
His lips curled.
"How dare maggots like you, who are still playing with swords.. try to fight me?"
A slight shrug. "I'll beat you with a shovel."
For a split second, there was silence.
Then,
A surge of mana exploded from Silas's body, destroying what remained of the chair.
"You!" Silas shouted. "I'll kill you. I'll stab your heart and rip your skin apart. I swear."
Garrick grabbed his temples.
'Haa… this fool,' he thought. 'He is losing his cool to someone he doesn't even know.'
His gaze shifted toward the network connections.
'Worse… all our S-rank children in the academy can hear this because every connection is linked. Does he even realize it?'
Ashan, meanwhile, looked overjoyed.
"Woah… woah… Why are you so short-tempered?" he said casually.
"At your age, raising your blood pressure isn't good. You know people can die suddenly."
He chuckled softly.
"If that happens before I get to see you, I would be sad."
Elsewhere, Roswayn started sweating.
"This is not good," he muttered. "That crazy lunatic is provoking grandfather nonstop. If this continues, I can't imagine what will happen."
Silas's face darkened further. He grabbed his swords.
The faint metallic sound echoed through the chamber.
"Why don't you stay right there?" Silas growled. "I'll be standing next to you as soon as possible."
Ashan snorted.
"Are you telling me to stay there until you arrive? Do you think I have time to waste on you? That won't happen."
His tone turned firm.
"I will fight you when I feel like it.I'll decide the time. You decide the place."
Silas laughed mockingly.
"You scary chicken! Running away from the fight already? To think I'm going to face a coward."
"Whatever," Ashan replied flatly. "No one asked about your opinion."
He crossed his arms.
"I'll do as I prefer. So why don't you practice a bit and remove your accumulated rust?"
Silas's fingers tightened on his hilts until his knuckles turned white.
"Do you dare test me?" Silas spat through gritted teeth. "You masked moron… you dare mock the Sword Saint? You call my body rust?"
His voice trembled with fury.
"I have carved more legends with my blade than you have taken breaths!"
Ashan only smiled slowly, lazily, as if savoring the anger.
He tapped the device once with his finger.
"Oh, I do dare," he replied smoothly. "In fact, I prefer humiliating old bones who still call themselves saints."
Everyone gasped.
'What's his deal?' Rowan thought, shocked. 'Are all S-rankers a joke to him? To think he would boldly run his mouth against the Sword Saint…'
Silas slammed both palms onto his table again. The tea in his cups shook violently.
"Enough with your games. Name the time. Name the place. I will come tonight at dusk."
Garrick shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
"Silas, this is unwise. He's baiting you publicly. It will become a spectacle…"
"It already is," Sheliya snapped. "This has gone too far. This fight is almost certain."
Garrick sighed deeply. "Silas, please…"
"You think I fear spectacle?" Silas cut him off. "My blade is not for politicking. It is judgment."
Ashan jumped back into the conversation casually.
"By the way, old man, since I'm going to play this fair, I need a sword made out of the same material as your sword."
He tilted his head.
"Tell me the metal and I will make one for myself."
Silas sneered.
"Do you think that is possible for you?"
He crossed his arms.
"All of my blades are made out of Gravium, one of the strongest metals in existence."
His voice carried pride.
"Not only is it expensive, it's extremely hard to find even a pound of it."
A mocking grin formed.
"What? Want me to lend one of my swords to you?"
Ashan slowly turned his head toward the nearby coffin where Yakwaru had been resting.
A mocking smile appeared on his face.
He began walking toward it.
"Hey, old man," he said casually. "Did you say Gravium?"
He placed his palm against the coffin's surface.
"Want me to say something funny?"
A slight pause.
"Guess what?"
He tapped the coffin lightly.
"I just found a whole coffin made out of it."
Silas's eyes widened as he stared at the screen.
"What?"
Ashan spread his palm toward the coffin.
[Dismantle]
Countless cursed slashes appeared instantly. The coffin was cut into massive pieces in the blink of an eye.
Metal screeched. Huge sections collapsed onto the dungeon floor with thunderous crashes.
Dust and fragments scattered everywhere.
Sisiliya stumbled backward in shock.
Draven instinctively drew half his blade.
Eirena shielded her face from flying debris.
When the noise finally settled, the coffin lay in enormous shattered slabs across the ground.
Ashan bent down calmly. He picked up one massive piece of Gravium and tossed it lightly into the air before catching it effortlessly.
He held it up toward the device.
"Problem solved," Ashan said smoothly.
His crimson eyes gleamed.
"What do you say now?"