“Good work everyone”

Isaac proclaimed as he activated the Guard Tower near the Temple.

It was their second one now. Although the road here had been harder than expected, they had been able to pull through because he had his Frost Sword Ranghilt.

Sir Colton will take charge in my stead, while I return to the Fortress to handle some matters.

“Yes, Prince”

A middle aged man in plate armor bowed his head politely.

Isaac placed his hand on his shoulder.

“I told you not to call me that over here, just Master will do.”

Isaac didn’t want others to know that he was British royalty. It would be fine if it were Brits that found out, but there group had people from all nationalities, so he didn’t want any conflicts.

Their numbers kept decreasing, so he had to maintain his image as a leader to keep up morale.

‘Maybe I can become a legend like King Arthur.’

No dream was unachievable so long as he had Ranghilt with him, a Magic Sword that grew along with its user.

It was so powerful that it was likely a match for Excalibur, and its appearance was quite mysterious, making it good to attract followers.

‘I was chosen by this sword.’

Upon arriving on Paradise Lost, they had taken a short break. Suddenly the sword had risen to the surface. After ruthless internal fight over it, he had been the one to claim ownership.

As he imagined himself sitting at a round table, surrounded by his knights, Issac pulled out a Teleport...