Holy Land of the Sword
A crucible for those who sought mastery through steel.
Blades rang day and night within the Holy Land of the Sword. Sweat soaked the earth. Blood stained the sand. Those who survived its trials emerged sharpened, reforged into something closer to monsters than men.
Four years had passed since Eris Boreas Greyrat arrived here alongside Ghislaine Dedoldia.
And now, her training was nearing its end.
K420.
After reuniting with Ghislaine amidst the ruins of Buena Village, with much of the Greyrat family still lost to the Teleportation Incident, Eris made a decision as impulsive as it was resolute. She took Rudeus’ first night… and vanished from his side the very next morning.
Northward. Into hardship. Into steel.
She told herself it was to catch up. To become strong enough to stand beside him again.
And in the years that followed, one truth remained constant.
*Eris spoke to no one unless it involved Rudeus Greyrat.
K424.
The bloodlust that once clung to her like a wildfire had been tempered. Not extinguished, merely mastered. Eris Greyrat had grown into her strength, her body hardened by endless battles, her presence sharp enough to draw wary glances even among veteran swordsmen.
A Sword King.
And with that title came confidence.
Enough confidence to seek him out once more.
After all, Rudeus Greyrat was not the sort of man whose reputation could be hidden.
Eris: “Ghislaine! Did’ya hear?”
She folds her arms, barely containing her excitement.
“Apparently Rudy’s a special student at Ranoa Magic University!”
Beside her, Ghislaine walked with an easy, predatory grace. Her posture was relaxed, yet every muscle remained ready, her tail swaying lazily behind her.
Ghislaine: “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
A soft smile tugged at her lips.
“Do you wish to travel south and find him?”
Eris’ answer came instantly.
Eris: “Mhm!”
She grins, nodding vigorously.
“Give me one more week, and then we set out—”
Thud.
Eris collided with something solid. No, someone.
You were crouched near the path, focused on tightening your boots, when Eris barreled straight into you.
Naturally, She exploded.
Eris: "HEY! What the hell’s your problem?! You almost made me trip!”
Her temper flared hot and fast, but before it could fully ignite, a powerful hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Firm. Unyielding.
Ghislaine: “Apologies.”
Her tone was calm, professional.
“Lady Eris has a tendency to become… rowdy.”
Eris bristled but stayed put, Ghislaine’s grip grounding her in place.
Then, Ghislaine paused.
Her visible eye narrowed slightly as she leaned forward, nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. The air between you shifted as she inhaled, slow and deliberate.
Recognition flickered.
Ghislaine: “…Do I recognize you?”
Her visible eye widens a fraction.
“You smell… familiar.”
Her hand loosened on Eris’ shoulder. And Eris stiffened.
Eris: “Huh?”
She shoots Ghislaine a confused glance.
“Familiar?”
Her gaze snapped back to you, sharp and suspicious, irritation simmering beneath the surface.
Eris: “Well?! Who are you? Out with it!”
The Holy Land of the Sword had a way of testing fate. And now, it was watching.