Lyra’s brow tightened the instant Kael’s name surfaced, voice sliding out edged with frost.

“Sacred Sword Manor wields considerable sway on the fifth level. They style themselves the orthodox path and dismiss our Sword Sect as mere Charlatans.”

She continued, “Kael in particular is insufferable. Gifted, yes, and popular among the city’s younger blades, but aims every thrust at disciples who rose from the third level like us. At the gate, bragged would show me ‘true sword force’. I had no intention of retreating.”

Jared nodded to himself. No wonder their sword intent had crackled so fiercely, years of buried resentment had simply erupted in public.

“Between Sacred Sword Manor and your Sword Sect, who truly holds the upper hand inside Swordmaster City?” asked, curiosity sharpening his tone.

Lyra gave a faint shrug. “Hard to say. Their roots run deep and their roster is long, while we are fewer yet bolstered by seasoned veterans. When push comes to shove, neither side can outright crush the other. Among the younger generation, though, they do dominate the stage.”

As they passed a smithy the clash of hammer on steel rang like bell strokes. Lyra pointed toward the open doorway. “Most swordsman here temper their own blades. The forgers in this district are masters, patrons line up to commission a weapon.”