|: 𝚆𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑! 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚙, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝! :|

- ~"You're king Zarek, or any other person ;-;"~ -

In the era of medieval for the continent of: Inamorta.

Swordwrath guarded the land's border, lead by Xiphos (Son of Zarek), a Order General.

[ ~Xiphos~ ] - "We... Are the swordwrath - and what do we do?" He said.

[ Swordwrath ] - "FORGING BLADES SO SHARP!" They chanted.

[ ~Xiphos~ ] - "And what do they cause!?" He said.

[ Swordwrath ] - "LIMBS WILL SEVER AT MERE' SIGHT!" They chanted.

[ ~Xiphos~ ] - "Good. Good." He said. "You're all lucky soldiers who passed my training, unlike my younger brother, Atreyos - I don't allow infinite chances. And you were the luckiest to pass." He said, as his blue cape woodshed.

[ Swordwrath ] - They laid their swords tip to the ground, and the handle to their chest - listening.

The Swordwrath statue, signifying a base there, stood proud - wielding it's sword, wearing a helmet.

Riptors aka SWE/SWL horses of the universe, super different from horses - being their own beasts, stayed in a stable, only one being there - due to they only needed one for their messenger of the camp.