Ryan weighed the Seven Star Sword in his hand, his fingertips lightly tracing along the blade.
The nearly 1.8-meter-long blade was straight and slender—neither too heavy to hinder speed nor lacking the strength to withstand powerful clashes. When swung, it moved with just the right agility. The double-edged design was as clean as light splitting through air, its sharpness capable of cutting through wind currents. Under the sunlight, it gleamed with a cold, sharp brilliance.
This sword felt more comfortable in his hand than he had anticipated.
Ryan raised his arm and performed a simple slashing motion, the blade drawing a silvery arc through the air.
The 1.5-meter blade length was just right for his nearly two-meter-tall frame—neither as cramped as an ordinary longsword nor lacking in reach during attacks. Even the circular, eight-petaled golden guard at the hilt reflected fragmented light with each movement.
The patterns engraved on the guard resembled ancient runes, subtly echoing the geometric golden embroidery along the sword's grip, adding a touch of mystery.
The hilt featured an eight-petaled handguard, its 30-centimeter length perfectly accommodating his palm. The fine textures on the black leather enhanced grip, while the red gem at the end emitted a faint glow during swings, complemented by a red tassel at the tip.
Most striking were the seven green star patterns along the blade, evenly spaced from hilt to tip like a ruler's markings. They now glowed with a soft green light as he moved, surrounded by delicate wave-like patterns that seemed to flow like water along the sword's surface.
Ryan chuckled softly and hoisted the sword onto his shoulder.
Compared to the Wind Splitter, the Seven Star Sword was considerably longer—a length far more suited to his current build and better suited for unleashing sweeping, powerful strikes.
"This is much more fitting than that short blade," Ryan remarked, tapping the blade with his knuckle. The Seven Star Sword responded with a clear, resonant hum, the green star patterns brightening slightly as if acknowledging his approval.
The Wind Splitter had been with Ryan for two years. It had served him well when he first began training, but as he grew taller and broader, it had become increasingly inadequate. The fine crack that had appeared on the blade during his last spar with Hawkeye still hadn't been fully repaired, leaving the sword feeling slightly sluggish with each swing.
The arrival of the Seven Star Sword was perfectly timed. When raised, its blade naturally reached his ankles; when slashing, it effortlessly cleared several meters in front of him—far more expansive than the Wind Splitter.
What intrigued him more was the sword's "liveliness." The moment he gripped the hilt, it felt as if it had a consciousness of its own. After being subdued by his Conqueror's Haki, it no longer resisted but instead responded with an almost docile obedience. When swung, the blade seemed to merge seamlessly with his arm.
"Interesting," Ryan mused, a faint smile curling his lips. Not only did this sword compensate for the Wind Splitter's shortcomings, but its near-sentient nature might also bring unexpected surprises.
Ryan's action of hoisting the Seven Star Sword onto his shoulder caused an uproar among the villagers. From the back of the crowd, the white-haired elder who had guarded the ancient texts in the ancestral hall stumbled forward, his murky eyes fixed intently on the sword resting on Ryan's shoulder. His lips trembled, but no words came out.
The cursed sword revered on the island as the "Symbol of Calamity" now lay obediently across the stranger's shoulder like a tame hound, its green star patterns even emitting a subdued, docile glow.
"Impossible..." The old man's face was a mask of disbelief. "That evil thing has devoured seven guardians... How could it..."
Villagers who had witnessed Saga tormented by the curse gasped sharply nearby. One younger villager even rubbed his eyes, wondering if the earlier gunshots had left him hallucinating.
Just then, the Marines holding rifles grew restless. The red glow in their eyes receded like an ebbing tide, their vacant gazes gradually clearing. Some lowered their weapons in confusion, staring at their dust-covered hands and the unfamiliar village around them, faces etched with bewilderment.
"How... how did I get here?" one Marine muttered, massaging his throbbing temples.
An older Marine's eyes fell on Ryan's face, widening abruptly as he drew a sharp breath. "You're 'Wanderer' Ryan? The newly appointed Warlord of the Seven?!"
His words sent the remaining Marines into an uproar. Their stares at Ryan now mingled fear with sheer incredulity.
Ryan cast them a sidelong glance, his tone flat. "Since you're awake, take your men and scram back to the Marine base."
He had no interest in small fry.
The Marines exchanged uneasy looks but dared not protest. After all, the Seven Warlords and the Marines were allies. Though his tone was dismissive, he held the moral high ground. More importantly, as a Warlord, this man's power was unfathomable—they had no grounds to refuse.
Hurriedly, they gathered their weapons from the ground and formed ranks, marching briskly toward the docks as if fleeing from demons.
Only when the Marines vanished beyond the village entrance did the villagers dare to breathe deeply. The white-haired elder stared at the Seven Star Sword in Ryan's hand, his clouded eyes suddenly blazing with ancestral dread.
"Sir..." the elder quavered, voice hoarse with emotion. "This Seven Star Sword is an ill omen. Our ancestors poured their hearts into sealing it beneath the altar... Now that you've subdued it, let us use our secret arts to reseal it and avert disaster."
No sooner had he spoken than the Seven Star Sword in Ryan's hand emitted a sharp, urgent hum. Its green star patterns flared brightly, the seven starlights throbbing as if straining to break free from the blade, causing the surrounding air to tremble faintly.
It was unmistakably a display of offended pride, as though roaring, "How dare you ants presume to decide my fate?"
"Quiet." Ryan raised an eyebrow, tapping the floral guard lightly with his thumb. His tone was casual, yet brooked no argument.
The humming ceased instantly. The starlight dimmed, and even the sword's cold gleam in the sunlight seemed to withdraw.
Ryan then turned to the stunned elder, a faint smile curling his lips as he ran his knuckles along the icy blade. "Old man, look closely."
With a deft twist of his wrist, the Seven Star Sword spun fluidly in his palm, the green starlight obediently tracing its motion. "This sword is in my hands now, which makes it mine. Whether it brings fortune or calamity is no one else's concern."
With that, Ryan turned and walked toward the unconscious Saga.
Maya instinctively held her breath, her gaze fixed warily on his movements as she subtly tightened her grip on the hem of her clothes. "What are you going to do?"
"Don't be nervous. I'm not going to do anything to him."
Ryan bent down and pulled out the pitch-black scabbard from behind Saga. The sheath gleamed with an aged luster, with golden fittings embedded at both the top and bottom, exuding an ancient aura that resonated with the Seven Star Sword. He raised his hand and sheathed the sword, the blade tracing a silver arc in the sunlight before settling into the scabbard with a soft click.
After tying the sheath's cord to his waist, he patted the scabbard. The moment the sheath and blade made contact, a faint tremor seemed to ripple through the air, but it was firmly suppressed by the aura surrounding Ryan. His movements were fluid and seamless, carrying an undeniable air of declaration.
From this moment on, this sword—along with its history and curse—belonged solely to Ryan.
The old man opened his mouth to speak but ultimately lowered his head, not daring to say another word. The earlier disturbance of the Seven Star Sword had been effortlessly suppressed by the man before him, proving one thing: this cursed Sacred Sword had truly found a master capable of wielding it.
Maya supported the unconscious Saga, watching the figure of the God brandishing the sword, and suddenly realized that the fate of Asuka Island might have completely changed from this moment onward.