Several days ago...

In the underground temple somewhere on the West Coast of the New World, Francine stood before the enclosing group of masked swordsmen. These were the new generation of the Espada Clan.

To reclaim the honor of the clan, Dante Espada trained the next generation to become skilled and ruthless than ever before.

The death rate of his method was staggering, as over a thousand apprentices joined the training, and since then, only fifty remain.

Gazing through her golden-tinted eyeglasses, Francine observed them with scrutiny, perceiving their complexions and capabilities as swordmasters.

It seems that the old fool has learned his lesson.

The masked swordsmasters weren't as inexperienced as the former generation. Perhaps one of their training included becoming hunting dogs for the Federation.

"How does it feel, old man? To raise weapons and tools, instead of students who belong to your school." Francine remarked, her supple lips curving.

"It must feel good, right? To have so many talented experts. The weak have already left this world, so only the strong remain."

Dante squinted his wrinkled eyes and uttered. "All to reclaim the lost honor of the Espada Clan. You were the first to humiliate us, Rogue Blade."

"The annihilation of an entire generation... It was because of you that the clan has fallen so far as to serve the dregs of the Federation."

"Once my students behead you, our honor will be granted and we will stand with our heads raised high." The old swordsmaster declared.

"As I said before... I hope you have already prepared the graves of these dear students of yours." Francine smirked and wielded her Zweihander.

With a gesture, Dante ordered his students to attack. There was no hesitation as the masked swordsmasters bolted towards the second-in-command of the Seventh Division.

Francine closed her eyelids, sensing everything from a certain radius. Five attacks surrounded her, each pointed towards her blind spot.

Before the tip of their blades could reach her, she swung her Zweihander in a wheel motion, splitting the entire underground temple into two separate halves.

However, her giant blade didn't make contact with anything, which meant that the attack beforehand was a feint.

Narrowing her sapphire-like eyes, she looked above and saw three masked swordmasters swing their blades towards her.

Her Zweihander was already planted on the ground. There would be a slight delay if she wanted to block their attacks, so she grinned and used her blade as a support.

Using the heels of her shoes, she kicked the blades away before launching her blade towards them through the leftover momentum.

The unorthodox fighting style was unexpected, as it wasn't the teachings of the Espada Clan to fight in such a peculiar yet graceful style.

Dante furrowed his wrinkled eyebrows and signalled more of his students to attack the dishonor of their clan. Many more masked swordmasters joined the battle, attacking Francine together.

She dodged their attacks with ease, graceful in her footwork as she parried their blades before counterattacking.

Even when surrounded and besieged by numerous masked swordmasters, Francine fought with poise and wasn't overwhelmed in any shape or form.

The underground temple became riddled with blade marks as the ringing of swords parrying one another echoed.

Along the way, she maintained her calm expression and observed the patterns of their different yet the same sword styles.

Memorizing the attack patterns wasn't difficult for the Rogue Blade. After all, she was a once-in-a-century genius in sword arts. The fact that she lived in the era of Aether meant one thing.

Her potential would be at its highest.

As she parried another blade, Dante gestured the masked swordmasters to halt their attacks and retreat. He glared at the Rogue Blade and grunted. "You're hesitating..."

"So you have changed, huh? I didn't expect a monster like you to actually transform into something more than an uncontrollable beast."

Francine smiled at the old fool and remarked. "I don't bully the weak, old man. How about you take your students' place instead of cowering behind them?"

"Or do you want me to kill all of them before you make a move? This would be another generation of the Espada Clan, and it could be the last one."

"Are you sure you want to take that risk?"

The old swordsmaster narrowed his wrinkled gaze and stepped forward. The masked swordmasters wanted to assist their teacher, but stopped when he gestured for them to leave him alone.

"I will reclaim the honor of our clan myself." He unsheathed his blade, its surface electrifying with a blinding flash.

His students backed away, understanding the power wielded by the teacher. On the other hand, Francine merely smirked and followed suit.

The aetheric background surged as the land above the underground temple crumbled away, unveiling the stormy skies above.

Thunder flashed in the distance as Dante disappeared from his spot. Francine smirked at the sight and became a blur. In the middle of the underground temple, a blinding light emerged.

Lightning spat out across the wall of the underground temple, devastating it into pieces. Francine parried his attack, and the two clashed their blades against one another.

"Let's take this outside." Without any hesitation, she threw her counterattack and swung her blade upward. The old swordsmaster was hurled towards the stormy heavens, his blade crackling with lightning.

He disappeared in a flash while Francine blurred. The two fought against one another in the distant mountains, each of their attacks cleaving through hills and forests.

The blackened skies rumbled in the background as the masked swordmasters watched the gods of the New World fight with impunity.

Francine stood at the peak of a mountain, her supple lips curved into a subtle smile. In the adjacent peak was Dante, wielding his electrified sword with cold sharpness.

The two disappeared from their spots, beginning the second round of their clashes. Their parries caused shockwaves, uprooting nearby trees and shattering cliffs.

Above them, the stormy skies swirled as though they were the center of the darkening storm. In a short instant, Dante sheathed his blade and charged an attack.

When he unsheathed it, the entire mountain range was cleaved into pieces as an arc of lightning bolts shot out into the skies.

Francine felt blood slipping from the wounds of her pale skin, but it immediately healed in mere moments. Her smile became manic as she swung her Zweihander downward.

A gargantuan ravine emerged as entire landscapes sank beneath the surface of the world. The ground trembled as the power of the heavens shook the earth.

The two greatest swordmasters stood opposite one another. Each with injuries that recovered in mere moments.

Once again, the third bout began.

Their attacks were far more precise than ever before, not causing any unwanted destruction throughout their surroundings.

Francine felt slashes cleaving her skin into pieces, while Dante saw his arm being severed from his body. The fight between the two was escalating.

Amidst the blinding flashes of light, thousands of attacks were being thrown and parried. Injuries were sustained, and recovery was dampened.

It wasn't a matter of skill anymore, but endurance.

However, the greatest swordmasters of the New World wouldn't settle in the most enduring. After all, they fight through their skills, not stamina.

With this in mind, simultaneously, Francine and Dante activated the Microcosms of their Brands. Two revolving domains expanded outwards, consuming everything along the way.

The Microcosm of Majesty of the Skies was called Heaven.

On the other hand, the Microcosm of Blade of the Thundergod was known as Empyrean Thunderburst.

These two Microcosms clashed against one another. Aether surged outward, causing imbalances throughout their surroundings.

In a battle of Microcosms, only refinement could decide

the victor between two near-peer adversaries.

Heaven was crushed by the Empyrean Thunderburst in a split second, consuming Francine in its path. She was forcefully dragged into his domain, a desolate landscape filled with tempest and thunder.

The effects of his Microcosm were as stated.

Those inside will be affected by the concepts of shock and thunderbolt alongside millions of slashes that target every weak spot in the body.

Francine felt her body freeze as her skin became charred and blackened. Millions of slashes struck her body, each piercing through her skin and cleaving through her flesh.

It was only for a millisecond, yet humans would have died a million ways in that timeframe. Once again, inside the Empyrean Thunderburst, she activated her Microcosm.

Emerging from her, Heaven surged outward and consumed the interior of the old fool's Microcosm. Clashes between Microcosms tend to be the final step of victory.

After all, surviving executions tends to be impossible. Besides, domains cannot be imprinted upon. Unless...

---

Shortly after the destruction of the SIGIL Headquarters, Francine and Alastair stood before a crater where the heart of the SIGIL formerly stood.

The authorities would come and arrest them for what they had done.

"Hey, Francine..." Arrogant escaped the supple lips of the gorgeous white-haired lady. Her pearl-like eyes peered towards her subordinate and partner.

"Do you want to know how to be the god of the world?"

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