Analisa fell into thought at the mention of the Chaos Sword style. Born and raised a true cultist, she wasn’t the type to casually cannibalize or commit other atrocities—though she had dabbled in some of their darker practices—but she wasn’t some low-level grunt. She is cult royalty, knowing the secrets of the cult’s power, where it truly came from.

The Chaos Sword style Oliver mentioned had been taught to the cult’s slaves—the ones who dedicated their lives to protecting higher-ranking cultists. Oliver himself is one of these slaves.

The full history of these warriors was complex and dark, but considering Cassian was Brigid’s slave, Analisa had no objections. She nodded slowly. "Fine by me. What about you, Brigid?"

Brigid looked troubled, knowing the truth about the Chaos Sword style—it was taught only to the cult’s slaves, those who had sworn unwavering loyalty and could never betray their masters. ’Fuck... ’ she thought, the lie of Cassian being her slave growing heavier and more complicated.

"Me too..." she sighed, glancing down at the still-unconscious Cassian. "But only if he wants to..."

Oliver’s excitement was palpable. "Once I tell him, I’m sure he won’t refuse. This style has been refined over thousands of years—it’s one of the strongest in existence, easily considered among the top three sword styles in the world," he said proudly. He was right; the Chaos Sword style truly ranked alongside the legendary techniques of the ven Dyke family.

But even mastering the first part of the style was incredibly difficult—if it weren’t, the cult wouldn’t have lost the war. Training someone to the highest level was nearly a dream; few could ever hope to achieve it. The same was true for other legendary sword styles as well.

After a bit more discussion, Analisa left the hall, followed shortly by Oliver. A few minutes later, Cassian stirred awake.

"Fuck that baldy..." he muttered, rubbing his head. "My skull’s still buzzing from that push..." A hint of unease lingered in his tone; if it weren’t for his healing abilities, Oliver’s domain might have left permanent damage. The foreign energy had penetrated deep into his body, making proper recovery a struggle.

Brigid’s eyes blazed with anger as she snapped, "No, fuck you..."

Cassian, muddling through the lingering foreign energy from Oliver’s domain, looked at her in confusion. She continued, her voice sharp and frustrated, "Bastard... you’ve gotten me into so much trouble. I’ve even betrayed the cult by bringing you here... and now that bald man wants to teach you the Chaos Sword style, thinking you’re my slave..."

"Well, seems like a great sword style... but why the angry face?" Cassian asked, feeling the foreign energy begin to dissipate as he used his domain. He had slightly more control now than before.

"Why am I angry?" Brigid repeated, her fury only sharpening. "It’s fucking

Chaos Sword. Those who master it can take on domain shapers, while just forming eight circles. Domain shapers are practically gods—only other domain shapers or mages of the Arcane Realm can even hope to face them. Surviving a single strike? That’s mythical. And those who’ve trained Chaos Sword to its peak... they can actually go toe-to-toe with them."

Cassian had never faced a domain shaper—or even watched one fight—but he had seen Seventh Circle warriors in action. And he knew they weren’t called "forces of nature" for nothing. They were forces of nature, capable of wreaking destruction comparable to a tsunami—or even worse. He had seen kilometers of land flattened after Julius’s battles. Though mages had helped the terrain recover, left alone, it would have remained barren, saturated with the lingering energy of the clash. That was why many high-ranked warriors and mages fought in the air—so as not to devastate the ground below unnecessarily.

If Seventh Circle warriors were already that formidable, domain shapers—who could kill them with mere thought if they entered their domain—were beyond comprehension. And now, Brigid was talking about a sword style that could let someone stand a chance against such beings without becoming one.

"That’s ridiculous," he muttered, disbelief sharpening his voice. "If the cult has a sword style that strong, wouldn’t they have already dominated the world?" Sure, some rare eighth circle warriors could face a domain shaper, but it required too many variables to line up perfectly—war armor, an exceptional weapon, a flawless strategy. And even then, surviving some of their attacks wasn’t the same as fighting them.

"It doesn’t matter whether you can or not—just say no if Oliver asks you to learn it," Brigid said with a sigh, standing up. She added, "And... Grandma and Oliver already know you’re a ven Dyke, so just stick to the story I told them," as she began explaining the version that would match what he would say.

Cassian nodded absentmindedly, though his mind was elsewhere, weighing the decision of whether to learn the sword style. The Gale Whisper Sword Style worked well for him, sure—but it never felt like it truly fit. It wasn’t a killing style, nor built for raw destruction. It emphasized reading movements, dodging, and flowing defensively—a far cry from the aggressive, lethal nature of his Killing Domain.

This Chaos Sword... it seemed like it might actually suit him. And the word "chaos" only made it more intriguing. He’d heard the system use the same term while absorbing the black smoke from the devil’s spawn, and even in those mysterious massage tomes, he’d caught hints that this sword style might be connected in some way. Still, he wasn’t about to abandon his Gale Whisper Sword Style. That one worked perfectly for him in its own way—a person could become nearly unbeatable learning it—but he wasn’t sure if it was powerful enough to let him beat a domain shaper without actually being one, like the chaos sword style promises.

As Brigid rambled on about the headache his presence caused her, they reached the front of her door. Cassian followed her inside, only to be abruptly shoved back outside.

"Fuck, where are you going? You slept all afternoon, even took a nap now... just go the hell away. I wanna sleep!" she snapped.

Before he could even respond, the door slammed shut in his face. Brigid clearly didn’t want to give him any chance of sneaking back in—tonight, sleep was non-negotiable.

"This bitch..." Cassian muttered, sighing in exasperation. He had been hoping to at least hug her, maybe slap that perfectly rounded ass tonight, but... "Well, what can you do? If the kids are bad, it’s the parents’ fault, and the grandparents’ too. I guess they deserve spanks instead of them..."