Swordmaster’s Youngest Son(Jarden Runcandel)

"I do not know either," Jin said.

The tone was calm. Almost innocent.

But Jarden had seen that look before. It wasn't confusion—it was choreography. A deliberate script masked behind childlike wonder.

Cyron raised his head, eyes narrowing. He hadn't expected deflection from the son who had measured every answer with precision.

"You don't know?"

Even his voice sharpened.

Jin smiled faintly.

"This power isn't aura, so I'm not sure what I should call it."

Then—

Swoosh.

The energy twisted out of the air like whispered flame.

Dark. Cool. Silent.

Jin's palm cradled the flickering mass—power he had used on the Tona twins.

Spiritual Power.

Jarden didn't flinch.

But he felt something shift.

This wasn't just a reveal. It was a calculated offering.

And Cyron's reaction said everything. His jaw parted.The room stilled. Even the storm outside seemed to draw quiet.

'Lord Solderet…'

Jarden felt the name ripple through the air like an ancient chord.

Solderet—the Shadow Sovereign., But not just a god of mages.

He was something deeper.

A god of blades.

Jarden knew that truth too.

It lived in the edges of the scrolls Utahame whispered to him at night.

And now… Jin had announced a bond no one expected.

"May I request father to give this power a name?" Jin asked softly, eyes bright like stars beneath a veil.

Cyron's silence was louder than thunder.

Jarden watched his father process the moment, saw doubt flash in those rarely surprised eyes.

Is he thinking of the founder? Is he wondering if Jin's power was inherited… or chosen?

Jarden said nothing. Did nothing.

He had no need to compete. Not yet.

His own power stirred beneath the floorboards of Storm Castle.

His blade had whispered once.It would whisper again.

'I thought that he had abandoned the clan ever since the founder passed away, but it seems that he has taken an interest in my youngest child.'Cyron Thought.

Could this be a sign that the Runcandels could once again rise and prosper in the future?

No, it was also possible that the god who had once abandoned them had returned on a whim, and would soon leave again. Cyron began to calculate the possibilities as he watched the shadows dance upon Jin's palm.

'I'm certain that he hasn't made a contract with the god yet. If he had gained this power through the contract, there's no way he wouldn't know what power this is.'

Jarden POV

Everything was going according to Jin's plan.

Too smoothly.

And that made him nervous.

Cyron hadn't shown even a sliver of suspicion. Jin had expected a moment of scrutiny, a test, a subtle threat—but none came. Perhaps it was because of his age. His small frame. His practiced expressions.

Seven years old.

A perfect age for deception dressed as innocence.

Then Cyron spoke.

"My son."

Jin responded immediately.

"Yes, father."

Cyron's voice held that unshakable weight again.

"That is the power of a god named Solderet. Therefore, I cannot name it. Lord Solderet is one of the secrets our clan has kept hidden for a long time."

Jin nodded, repeating the name softly.

"Solderet…"

Cyron continued.

"It is the being who brought about shadows in this world. You may be a clever child, but you're still too young to understand this."

Jin hesitated—just long enough to feel real. Then asked:

"Is he…"

Cyron gave him permission with a nod.

"Is God Solderet stronger than father?"

"Haha…"

That laugh.

Jarden tilted his head slightly. Cyron had never laughed like that before. Not since ascending to demigod status. Not since the weight of the continent settled onto his shoulders.

For the first time in years, his spirit stirred.

"I wonder… Your father has never attempted to challenge gods, so I cannot say."

A proud answer. An honest one.

Cyron wasn't claiming weakness. Just unproven superiority.

Nonetheless, Jin shuddered as he listened to his father's reply. The person in question was Cyron Runcandel.

The strongest man on the continent.

Even the clanmaster of the Zipfel Clan, Kelliark Zipfel, could not hold a candle to this man.

Smirk.

Cyron showed a toothy grin.

"I've truly made the correct decision to come and meet you today. Your naive question has become a great topic of interest for me. Thank you, my son. Come closer."

Jarden POV

He watched from the far end of the chamber.

Jin stood before Cyron, head raised, palm outstretched. The shadows swirled softly in his grasp—power wrapped in quiet defiance.

"How do you want to use this power?" Cyron asked.

Jin's eyes glimmered.

"I want to use it for the clan, father."

Jarden raised one brow.

That's not the truth.

He knew Jin's heart better than most. That answer was for strategy, not sincerity.

Cyron remained still—then burst into a laugh so deep the stone floor trembled.

"Kuhahaha!"

Jarden didn't move. But the laughter cut through him like a gust through mist.

The siblings outside flinched. The air changed.

It wasn't joy. It was surprise. Rare, real surprise.

And then Cyron bent down. His face hovered close to Jin's, voice like steel wrapped in winter.

"What an amusing lie. You can be more honest with your father, you know?"

Jin hesitated only for a breath.

"…for me."

"Hm?"

"I want to use it for myself."

Cyron nodded once.

Not in approval—in understanding.

"Right. After having pummelled your brothers and leaving them out in the storm, there's no way you'd use your power for the clan. I'll be watching over you from here on out."

Cyron hadn't reprimanded him. Hadn't demanded loyalty. He had acknowledged ambition.

Cyron walked past Jin and Jarden and left the room. After his father's footsteps disappeared into the distance, Jarden finally noticed the cold sweat running down his face and back.

A mixture of disbelief and relief painted across his face.

Through today's conversation with his father, Jin had obtained Cyron's approval to use Solderet's power freely, and his father's expectations of Jin were high. But He was not aware cyrion's expectation of jarden were any where less. Cyron was surprised with Jarden and his power within him the dormant shadow even he could not under stand and comprehend as a genesis knight.

Jarden POV

"Jin."

Jarden turned as his twin entered the west wing.

Drenched in post-storm sweat. His steps were lighter than usual—but his eyes held something different.

"You survived," Jarden said dryly.

Jin scoffed. "You were watching."

"I watch everything."

A quiet smirk tugged at Jin's lips. He let out a long sigh, the tension finally bleeding from his shoulders.

"I didn't expect him to touch my head," Jin muttered.

"Neither did I," Jarden replied. "Cyron doesn't give warmth. He gives weight."

Jin nodded slowly, then paused.

Utahame appeared behind Jarden, folding her sleeves.

"The patriarch is preparing to depart," she said gently. "You should go see him off."

Jin glanced toward the outer courtyard. "Right. Coming." And he went out.

Utahame eyed him with quiet concern. "You've changed since the last time you faced him."

"I had no choice," Jarden murmured. "He looks into you like he's a Prophet."

"Maybe he is," Utahame whispered.

"Yes Yes.. And you are future reading witch huh utahime" Jarden said

"May be" UUtahime whispered.

The two moved together through the hallway, shadows following at their heels.

Courtyard: Storm Castle Gates

Two hundred guardian knights raised their blades skyward.

"All hail!"

"All hail!"

Cyron walked toward the exit gates without looking back. Jin and Jarden stood side by side.

The Tona twins lingered behind them, unusually silent.

Jin bowed his head. Jarden didn't.

He watched. Measured the cadence of Cyron's gait. The way every knight moved like gravity had shifted in his presence.

'Next time I see him… it won't be as a child.'

Jin's thoughts echoed similarly.

But Jarden didn't envy him. He was calculating a different path.

Later That Night — Jin's Chamber

Jin peeled back the silk wrapping.

A small box of reinforced bone. Inside…

A Phoenix Heart.

Even Utahame tilted her head slightly at the sight. Her eyes didn't widen. But her breath slowed.

"Lady Mary left that behind," Jarden said calmly.

"She's not in her right mind," Jin whispered. "Seven years old, and she thinks I'm a phoenix waiting to rise?"

"You are," Jarden said. "She just gave you fuel."

Utahame reached forward, touching the air just above the heart.

"It was summoned by Zipfel magic. And slain by Runcandel blades. That makes it… balanced."

Jin leaned back, letting the pulse of the moment settle.

"Do I eat it raw?" he muttered.

Jarden shrugged. "Decoct it. Or melt it into tincture. You want growth, not indigestion."

Utahame chuckled softly. "It's not just for strength. Phoenixes remember the lives they've burned through. You should take it slowly."

Jin nodded, staring down at the heart.

"Funny. I never got gifts like this before."

Jarden walked toward the door.

"You didn't live long enough to deserve them. Now you do."

Jin looked up, startled—then laughed once.

"Careful, Jarden. If you're this wise at seven, the clan won't know what to do with us by ten."

Utahame smiled, backing into the corridor.

"Then let's give them more reasons to tremble."