Searching for his successor, the Paladin King of Darkness massacred everyone living in a village down the valley. In the fog, he trampled upon the corpses, because killing could hardly satisfy his desire to kill. He had always been longing for a formidable opponent, as well as one who could inherit his skills as a swordsman...
From the fog, someone in his armor was walking towards the Paladin King of Darkness. Together with the maiden beside him, they were stupefied to see the Paladin and all the corpses scattered on the ground.
Bursting into tears, the maiden ran to one of the bodies. “Granny...!” Overflowed with rage, she forgot about her cowardice. She ran to the Paladin, punching him on his armor with her fists, yelling, “Give me back my Granny! You criminal!”
In a flash, the Paladin thought he saw his younger self on the girl, whose eyes were filled with hatred. It was a pity that she was not strong enough.
Fed up with her cries, the Paladin kicked the maiden onto the ground and unsheathed his evil Sword. Just as the Sword was about to land, a lance fended off its attack.
“Run! I’ll be alright!” The warrior told the maiden, who then ran away immediately. As the sound of her footsteps dwindled away, the warrior said with a smile, “Now I can fight with you!”
Upon his words, they both leapt away from each other. They dared not act blindly, because they had understood that their opponent was no Tom, Dick or Harry. The lancer rushed at the swordsman as he held up his lance, which was fended off by the evil Sword. The swordsman then thrust his sword at where the lancer had overlooked. The lancer hurriedly parried the attack, yet he was struck a few steps backwards. When they were ready for another attack, they once again clashed with each other.
Though the lance and Sword collided countless times, the winner could not be determined. From the evil Sword, an evil spirit revealed itself, stretching out its arms to strangle the lancer. Just then, several glowing swords appeared at his back, cutting the arms of the spirit. Enraged by the swords, the spirit clenched its fists to fragment every single one of them. The spirit’s arms could regenerate unlimitedly because it possessed no definite shape; while the swords consisting of souls of Saintly Warriors could recombine whenever destroyed to fight in line with the warrior. Soon, both the lancer and the swordsman were exhausted; they knew the next blow would end the battle.
In an instant, they were having their backs toward each other, as if they had just gone through their opponents. The lancer was standing with his weapon as support, while the swordsman slowly collapsed onto the ground, letting go of the evil Sword. A long forgotten smile spread across his face, because he had finally experienced the battle he had been waiting for his whole life…
‘I have been chasing after ultimate swordsmanship and invincible power. Battle and slaughter are the only remedy for my burning desire.’ — Inheritance, Paladin King of Darkness