Strongest Sword God: I Can Cut Through Anything

The spiral reached its peak.

The wind roared with wild grace, forming a perfect vortex in the air. Droplets of water shimmered like shards of glass under the sunlight, spinning in mesmerizing orbits as if the universe itself was paying tribute. Flashes of lightning flickered between the spirals, weaving threads of silver that danced softly around the small girl.

Then, as if someone had pressed an invisible switch, everything began to calm.

The wind slowed. The droplets lost their shape and fell one by one, landing with the gentle patter of the first rain. The electricity faded into whispers of light before vanishing completely.

Silence returned.

And in the center of it all, Melly.

Her small body was still sitting cross-legged, but her shoulders trembled, her head drooping slowly like a flower weary after the storm. Her breathing came unevenly, chest rising and falling in exhaustion. Sweat trickled down her temples and chin, gliding through strands of hair that clung to her pale skin. Her eyelids fluttered open, confusion flickering in her gaze as she looked around, then slowly—she collapsed forward, fainting onto the grass.

Riven moved instantly.

Without thinking, he darted forward, knees hitting the ground hard but unnoticed. He caught his sister just before she fell completely, laying her gently in his lap. His hands trembled slightly as they brushed her sweat-soaked face.

"Melly..." he whispered, his voice breaking with panic and desperate affection.

He pressed his palm to her forehead, still warm. Her heart was beating. She was breathing. But her body was utterly drained.

Ashtoria appeared beside him almost soundlessly. Her gown didn't rustle, her steps left no trace. She seemed to emerge from the shadows, calm and composed as she assessed the scene.

"Your sister is fine," she said, her tone steady yet precise. "She's only exhausted. She unconsciously released her power and burned through all of her mana. She'll need training to control it properly."

Riven turned to her, still breathing hard from the rush of fear.

Their eyes met and in those crimson eyes that rarely showed sympathy, he saw a fleeting softness. Just a flicker, gone before it could be named.

He lowered his gaze again to his sister's face, peaceful now in sleep. Gently, he brushed the hair from her cheek and wiped the last beads of sweat from her temple.

Behind them, Lyanna stood frozen.

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Word of the extraordinary event spread fast, like fire racing through dry grass. Servants whispered among themselves, their voices trembling with curiosity and awe. Soldiers outside strained to catch fragments of rumor. Through the halls of House Rathsture, the name Melly began to echo in hushed tones—spoken with wonder, fear, and fascination all at once.

But before long, the whispers faded.

It was as if the wind that carried the rumors had been silenced. Every voice fell quiet, smothered by an unspoken command. Even the most talkative servants suddenly forgot how to gossip, their tongues tied by an invisible fear.

No one dared to speak of the miracle again.

And everyone knew whose hand had ensured it.

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In the eastern guest room, an oil lamp flickered dimly on a carved wooden table. The curtains were drawn, wrapping the space in quiet warmth. On the bed, Melly lay fast asleep, her expression calm and serene, as if nothing remarkable had happened just hours ago.

Riven sat at her bedside, one hand gently holding hers. A faint smile tugged at his lips, full of tenderness he couldn't quite hide.

"How did you end up finding your affinity before me?" he murmured with a quiet laugh. "And you even managed to keep it secret from me all this time?"

His voice carried teasing affection, but beneath the smile lingered something deeper—pride. And a touch of envy.

Ashtoria had told him that Melly discovered her affinity during the beast tide in the village that day. And when he learned what it was, he could hardly believe it.

Storm.

Ashtoria sat on the other side of the bed, close enough that their shoulders brushed. She leaned against him casually, her movements calm yet possessive in a subtle, wordless way.

"I've made sure no one leaks any information about your sister's affinity," she said softly, though her tone remained cool.

Riven nodded slightly. "Thank you," he replied sincerely.

He didn't need to ask why. He already knew.

In this world, power drew attention, and attention brought danger. Especially power as rare and impossible as Melly's.

"What do you think?" Riven asked after a short pause. "Would my sister be considered highly talented if she were tested?"

Ashtoria inhaled lightly before answering in her even voice. "Affinity type doesn't always determine talent."

Riven frowned slightly, about to ask more, but she continued before he could.

"But judging by how her power reacted the moment it awakened," Ashtoria said, her eyes fixed on Melly's sleeping face, "I can conclude one thing..."

She turned her head toward him. For a moment, their eyes met.

"...your sister's talent is exceptional."

Silence filled the room.

Her words echoed inside Riven's chest, stirring pride and something else. Something small and sharp that gnawed quietly beneath the warmth.

He was happy, of course he was. Melly was all he had, and he wanted her to shine. But deep down, he couldn't ignore the shadow of being left behind.

The wooden door creaked open slowly. A faint scent of pine and old metal drifted in with the arrival of a tall, broad-shouldered man. His pale blond hair was neatly trimmed, his uniform immaculate, his bearing unmistakably noble. Lines of age marked his face, but his eyes remained sharp and commanding.

Lord Aiden Rathsture—head of the Rathsture family, respected by nobles across the kingdom.

He paused at the doorway, his gaze landing on the two figures by the bed: Riven, the commoner... and Queen Ashtoria, calmly resting her head on his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Lord Rathsture blinked once. Then again. He even rubbed his eyes slightly, as if hoping the sight would correct itself. It didn't.

Riven stayed exactly where he was.

And Ashtoria, unbothered, remained leaning against him.

For a moment, all three locked eyes in a silence that bordered on absurd.

Ashtoria's expression didn't change. Riven looked awkward. Lord Rathsture cleared his throat and stepped inside, trying to recover his composure.

"I've already silenced everyone who knows about your sister," he said, his tone low but polite.

Riven straightened slightly and bowed his head. "Thank you, My Lord."

Lord Rathsture gave a brief nod, his eyes flicking to Ashtoria for just a moment, as if seeking unspoken permission.

The queen didn't say a word. But her cool, unyielding gaze was enough.

Only then did Lord Rathsture turn back to Riven.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," he said slowly. "About your sister."

His tone softened, though the weight behind it remained.

"She's a commoner. No family name. And after what I witnessed today... I'm certain her future will be both great and dangerous."

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"That's why I intend to adopt Melly into my family."

Riven froze. His eyes widened slightly, as if the words were too heavy to absorb all at once.

Lord Rathsture went on carefully, his voice steady and sincere.

"She would become Melly Rathsture, a name that would grant her entry into noble society without resistance. She'd receive protection, education, and the rights she deserves. I'll personally oversee her training and make sure she has everything she needs to grow... into a true Lawbearer."

His voice grew lower, more earnest.

"I don't mean to take her from you, Riven. But the world won't let a child like her live peacefully if she remains nameless. She'd become a target, not just because of her power, but because her status offers no defense."

He exhaled, eyes softening. "That's why I came to you first. To ask for your permission."

Silence descended once more.

Time seemed to hold its breath.

Ashtoria said nothing. She simply watched Riven from the corner of her eye, waiting to see how he would process it all.