Reality Seven was unlike any other.

Here, they didn’t rely on a variant of mana; instead, much like Reality Nine, they wielded pure mana.

Yet, despite this unique trait, there seemed to be no diversity—everyone was a swordsman or swordswoman.

At the peak of a literal sword mountain — a colossal peak formed entirely of ancient, fused blades that had been melted and reshaped by countless generations of sword intent — sat a blonde woman with a black sword tattoo on her forehead.

She was human, with sharp, refined features, with her hair tied back in a simple ponytail.

Her posture was perfect; legs crossed on a plain zafu cushion as she addressed the thousands of younger swordsmen and swordswomen floating in the air around her mountain peak.

"Remember," she said, her voice clear and steady, carrying across the wind, "a sword is not merely a weapon. It is an extension of will. Technique is important, but without heart, it is empty steel. The blade does not cut the enemy. You cut the enemy through the blade."

The students listened in rapt attention, many taking notes on floating scrolls or meditating on their own zafus.

When she finished her lecture with a small nod, they all bowed deeply in unison before dispersing — some flying off toward training grounds, others vanishing in flashes of sword light as they returned to their own peaks.

Once the last student had left, the mountain peak grew quiet.

That was until a single beautiful woman appeared in the open air a short distance away.

She stood with her black and white sword resting casually on her shoulder, wearing a sleek battle dress of white and black that hugged her slender frame.

Her pure white twelve fox tails swayed gently behind her, each one radiating quiet power.

She had pure white eyes that seemed to hold the edge of a blade, and a black sword tattoo running down her spine, visible through the open back of her dress.

This was obviously Vaeloria.

And seeing her appear so suddenly....

The Ancestor of all Swords narrowed her eyes the instant she sensed her.

’Danger.’ She thought and before she could even speak, Vaeloria appeared directly in front of her in a flicker of movement.

Her sword slashed out in a clean, horizontal arc.

SHINGGGG!!!!

The Ancestor barely blocked it in time, her own blade snapping up with a desperate clang.

However, the force of the clash sent her flying backward like a cannonball — crashing through the air for several light years before slamming into a distant mountain range.

BOOOOOOM!!!!!!

The impact shattered several peaks, sending avalanches of broken swords raining down as the attention of every swordsman and swordswoman in the surrounding domains turned toward the disturbance.

Vaeloria lowered her blade slightly, her white fox tails swaying gently as she stared in the direction the Ancestor had been sent flying.

In that instant, hundreds of thousands of swordsmen and swordswomen began rising into the skies from across the reality.

They had felt the reverberation of the clash — a shockwave that had shaken the very concept of the sword itself.

Blades hummed in their sheaths, and the air vibrated with collective intent as they converged on the location, forming a vast sea of floating figures with weapons drawn.

When they saw the Ancestor of all Swords digging herself out of a shattered mountain peak, covered in dust and minor cuts but otherwise unharmed, they were stunned into silence.

This was the woman who stood at the absolute pinnacle of the sword path — someone who had long been considered untouchable.

Yet she had been sent flying like a common disciple.

HUMMMMM!!!!

The swordsmen and swordswomen immediately drew their blades, auras flaring as they prepared to charge the intruder, their collective killing intent thickening the air.

The Ancestor — Macy — raised her hand, her voice firm and commanding despite the dust on her face and the slight tremor in her stance.

"Halt! Do not interfere." She spoke causing everyone’s power to dim instantly.

"Even if I die here... do not step in."

Internally, however, a spark of gleeful excitement burned in her chest.

For the first time in thousands of years, she felt a path opening beyond the peak she had long believed was the end of the sword.

And this stranger’s power before her it was something entirely new — a level she hadn’t even dreamed of reaching.

Vaeloria, floating in the distance, tilted her head slightly and gave a faint, approving smile at the woman’s resolve.

She called out, her voice echoing through the void.

"Not bad. If you had let them join, they would’ve just been slaughtered." Her tone didn’t match her actions in the slightest.

Speaking as though she knew the women, Vaeloria’s smile sharpened.

"You wouldn’t want that now, would you, Macy?"

The Ancestor’s eyes widened at the sound of her true name—a name known only to those in her closest circle.

She fixed her gaze on Vaeloria, gripping her sword tighter, suspicion and tension clear in her voice.

"Who are you?"

Vaeloria didn’t answer.

She simply faded from view — not disappearing in a flash or using any visible movement technique but simply ceasing to be where she had been standing, as if she had never been there at all.

In the next instant, she stepped out from within the blade of Macy’s own hands.

The Ancestor had no time to react.

BOOOM!!!

Vaeloria’s black-and-white blade struck the flat side of Macy’s sword with casual force, sending the woman flying once more — hurtling through the air like a comet for dozens of light years before crashing into another distant mountain range.

BOOOOOM!!!

Vaeloria remained floating where Macy had been standing, her white fox tails swaying lazily as she frowned slightly.

"Since when does a swordswoman talk so much?" she muttered, her voice carrying clearly across the void.

"Isn’t the blade supposed to be speaking for you?"

Her movements were beyond anything they could understand—not speed, not technique, but something deeper.

She was simply where she needed to be... not through distance, but because Vaeloria could exist wherever a weapon was.

The Ancestor of All Swords pulled herself from the rubble once more, breathing hard, her eyes alight with shock, excitement, and a growing respect.

"Fine... enlighten me then."