A sword struck against a stone post with a resounding crack . If you took a second to look around, you'd see multiple broken stone posts shattered into countless pieces, fragments scattered across the snow-dusted training ground like forgotten memories. The sword that was striking the remaining post moved at incredible speeds, cutting through the frigid air with deadly precision.
This stone wasn't ordinary stone, though it was reinforced with magic. Every stone he broke, he made stronger, pushing himself harder with each attempt. He had been trying to break this particular stone for a couple of days now, his knuckles white around the hilt, his breathing coming in harsh bursts that clouded the cold air. His progress seemed to be slowing down, each strike yielding less damage than the last. Which frustrated him immensely.
He ground his teeth together, the familiar taste of copper filling his mouth as he bit the inside of his cheek. With a guttural yell, he unleashed another attack, pouring everything into the strike. The blade connected with a thunderous impact that sent vibrations up his arm but the stone didn't break. The post stood there, mocking him with its stubborn existence.
"This piece of shit," he cursed under his breath, glaring at the stone as if his hatred alone could shatter it. Finally, he turned away sharply, his boots crunching in the snow. He didn't have time to get all worked up over this. There were more important things waiting.
He walked into a nearby building, shaking off the cold that had seeped into his bones, and sat down heavily at the counter. The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the biting chill outside, and for a moment, he let himself relax.
A girl came up to him, wiping down a glass with practiced ease. She had a cute chubby round face with long silver hair her eyes had blue pupils that you could get lost in. "Hard day of training, huh?" she asked, already reaching for ingredients to make his usual drink. Her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was genuine concern underneath.
He didn't say anything, just stared at the worn wood of the counter. Which, for her, was answer enough. She'd learned to read his silences over the years.
"You know, you don't have to beat yourself up over this," she said gently, mixing the drink with fluid motions. "You've already reached a rank most people here can't attain after their whole lives of trying. That's something to be proud of."
She passed him the drink with a small smile. He took it without a word and gulped it down in one go, the familiar warmth spreading through his chest. After finishing, he looked at the empty cup, his mind clearly elsewhere, thoughts churning behind those guarded eyes. But then his grip tightened, fingers squeezing the cup until it started to crack.
"If you break it, you pay for it," she said cheerfully, her smile widening into something almost playful.
"Tch." He immediately loosened his grip, setting the cup down with exaggerated care. He was flat broke, and having to pay for that meant he'd have to work for her which was the last thing he'd want to do. The thought alone made him grimace.
"Why do you always insist on bothering me?" He shot her an irritated look, though there was no real heat behind it. He really didn't know why she only did this to him, of all people.
Since he had come to the sword sanctuary, this woman would constantly bother him, always appearing whenever he frequented this place. And since he was flat broke, he couldn't go anywhere else not that he wanted to. She gave him free drinks and food, asked nothing in return except maybe a conversation here and there. She even housed him and was technically his guardian here, despite the absurdity of it all.
Which was ridiculous since they were around the same age she was fourteen and he was ten. The age difference felt meaningless when she acted like she'd been looking after lost kids her whole life.
"Well, if I don't, who will check up on you?" She laughed, the sound light and genuine, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She'd found him on the ground passed out after he first arrived, more dead than alive.
He had trained endlessly for days on end without food, surviving on just water and spite. He'd been filled with grief and rage from what happened when he left his home, emotions so raw and consuming that the memories of the event made him feel like he should die, like he didn't deserve to draw another breath.
If she hadn't found him, he would've starved. The thought crossed his mind sometimes late at night how close he'd come to just… ending.
"You know," she said, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her cheek, "I heard the sword god wanted to meet with you. He came up to me yesterday asking about you."
Rudeus's head snapped up, surprise flickering across his usually stoic face. "Why did you keep this information from me until now?" He slammed his hands on the table and stood up abruptly, though he wasn't taller than her she still had a good couple of inches on him so he ended up glaring up at her instead, which probably diminished the effect.
"Because I forgot! My bad, please forgive me!" She giggled and tried to look apologetic, clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes dramatically. The real reason, of course, was because she was scared. Scared that if he left, if he walked out that door with some grand purpose, he would work himself to death. She'd seen that look in his eyes before.
He looked furious, his jaw clenching. His hand moved to grip the handle of his blade hard, the familiar leather worn smooth under his palm. Trying to contain his anger this way had become instinct this had always calmed him down when his emotions threatened to overflow. Strangely enough, this technique was taught to him by her. She'd said her father used to do it when he got angry and needed to calm down, and somehow, it worked.
"So… are you going to go, Rudy?" She sat down next to him, leaning in close enough that he could smell the faint scent of cinnamon on her. Which just made Rudeus eye her with renewed annoyance.
"I'll see if I want to go then see what he has to offer, then make a decision based on that," he said as calmly as he could manage, though his tone was still clipped.
"So, translation: you're going. Okay!" She brightened immediately. "Just make sure to return here as soon as you can, and remember to not sound too disrespectful when you reject him."
That only irritated Rudeus more, heat rising to his face. "I never said I was going! I'm going to kill you, Sylvia!" He clenched his fist and lunged at her, but she was already gone, having slipped away with practiced ease and now standing by the door, grinning like a cat.
"That woman! She's going to give me a heart attack one day," he muttered darkly, pressing a hand to his forehead. He walked out of the tavern, immediately shielding his eyes from the glaring sun that seemed determined to blind him despite the cold. Even with the sun beating down, he didn't feel warm it was always snowing here, a constant blanket of white that never quite melted.
But even with that perpetual cold, he didn't wear a coat. Instead, he wore a fitted, rugged jacket, slim-cut and worn from months of use. Under it, he kept a simple dark shirt that had seen better days. His pants were tapered combat style with reinforced seams, built for movement and durability. Heavy boots, slightly scuffed from wear and tear, completed the practical outfit. And to finish off the look, he wore a red scarf one that had been knitted by someone he didn't like to think about too much, the memory too painful and too precious at once.
On his side hung two blades. One of them was a sword he'd picked up after winning a duel when he first arrived here, a decent weapon but nothing special. The other was Ghislaine's blade a katana that felt heavier than its actual weight, loaded with memory and meaning. He didn't dare use Ghislaine's blade for training, only promising himself he'd draw it when he really needed it, when there was no other choice.
He walked away from the tavern toward where the Sword God, Gal Farion, stayed. The residence was perched on a mountain top that was notoriously difficult to climb for normal people, the path treacherous and unforgiving. Because of the harsh conditions the wind alone could knock a grown man off his feet most avoided it.
But he had trained endlessly, day and night in the snow, pushing his body beyond reasonable limits. Something like this wasn't anything to him anymore. The cold didn't bite the same way; the altitude didn't steal his breath.
He knew he couldn't stay here much longer. He'd just gotten word that a mana disaster had occurred in the Fittoa region around a year ago, news that had hit him like a physical blow knowing what was about to happen. The entire region, gone in an instant thousands displaced, hundreds dead.
He had wanted to go immediately, to rush there and search, but Sylvia had told him not to. She'd literally cried, begging him not to throw his life away on a desperate quest. So, with a heavy heart that felt like it might crack, he didn't go. But this was as long as he'd stay. Even after everything that happened, even after all the pain and guilt he didn't want Eris to die. And since it had only been around a year, and they didn't have the original Rudeus there to help, their progress in the returning to fittoa should be slower. There might still be time.
He had every intention of telling the sword god he couldn't train under him and then departing. After an hour of steady climbing, his legs burning pleasantly from the exertion, he made it to where the sword god lived. There was a massive door set into this side of the mountain, reinforced with metal and etched with protective runes. He walked up to it and knocked firmly, the sound echoing in the thin mountain air.
Quickly, he saw a small eye shutter slide open with a metallic scrape. "Name and reason for arrival," came a tense voice from within. The speaker sounded like someone who'd seen too many unwelcome visitors.
But this didn't scare Rudeus a single bit. He'd faced worse than suspicious guards. "Rudeus Greyrat. I came here because I was summoned."
After stating his name and reason, the guard was quiet for a moment, and Rudeus could almost hear the man's mental gears turning. Then he heard the sound of locks and chains being loosened, multiple mechanisms clicking open before the heavy door swung inward with a groan. "The sword god has requested you proceed to the main hall," the guard said without breaking eye contact, he looked Rudeus up and down.
Rudeus just nodded curtly and went on his way, stepping into the compound. He looked around, taking in the impressive facility with an analytical eye. He saw training dummies lined up in neat rows, their surfaces scarred from countless strikes, and large open areas designated for sparring, the ground there worn smooth from years of footwork. He even spotted some students training in the distance, their movements synchronized as they ran through forms. It was a pretty extensive area, well-equipped with training facilities and even living quarters for long-term students.
When he strolled deeper into the compound, weaving between buildings, he noticed someone he really didn't like. He saw her long blue hair first distinctive and unmistakable and immediately wanted to turn around and leave. Maybe if he was quiet enough, she wouldn't notice…
"Ahh, Rudeus! You've finally arrived. I thought you were going to stand me up," called out the man who had just been talking to the blue-haired girl. The Sword God himself smiled broadly, looking genuinely pleased. "I was beginning to think you'd chickened out!"
"Yeah, yeah. Let's get to the point," Rudeus said flatly, already trying to calculate the fastest route to exit this conversation. He didn't want to stay longer than absolutely necessary. Every second here felt like time stolen from what he needed to do.
The girl, hearing that name, seemed to perk up immediately. She whipped around with startling speed, her eyes widening in recognition and then narrowing in annoyance. "You…" she gritted out, her voice tight with barely controlled irritation. Her fists clenched at her sides.
Which only made Rudeus feel more exasperated. Here we go again, he thought.
"You've been dodging me, haven't you?" she accused, taking a step forward and raising her fist threateningly. Her face was flushed with anger and something that might have been embarrassment.
Rudeus just sighed deeply, the sound conveying his exhaustion with this entire situation, and deliberately ignored her, turning his attention back to Gal Farion. "So, Mr. Sword God, what exactly have you called me here for?" He always knew the answer, of course, but protocol demanded he ask.
"I feel you already know why," Gal Farion said, his smile taking on a knowing quality. "After hearing what Nina here has told me and believe me, she's told me quite a bit I've wanted to see your power for myself. She won't stop going on and on about you, always complaining about this Rudeus kid who's so infuriating." He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Personally, I think she has a crush on you. But don't try anything funny, or I'll cut you down myself." He laughed heartily at his own joke.
Nina's face reddened dramatically, turning a shade that matched her anger. She immediately tried to kick Gal Farion in the shin, but he merely stepped aside with the ease of long practice, having clearly dealt with her temper before. "It's nothing like that!" she protested vehemently, her voice rising. "He's so annoying! And he has this brooding face that basically screams he thinks he's better than everyone else! Like we're all beneath him!"
Nina was usually a calm, composed girl, known for her levelheadedness in combat. But in the face of this particular boy, she couldn't help but get worked up, her carefully maintained control slipping. Her uncle had always told her that she got worked up fast around people she didn't like, couldn't stand being around them without her emotions flaring. And Nina had to agree she absolutely detested this boy.
He clearly saw her as lesser, as not worth his time or effort. He never even used Sword God style techniques when sparring with her, only ever employing Water God style, as if she wasn't worthy of his real skills. He'd even had the audacity to recommend that she learn Water God style herself, but she'd adamantly refused on principle alone.
"I'm not interested right now," Rudeus said bluntly, cutting through the banter like one of his strikes. "Romantic relationships aren't something I'm focused on. They're a distraction I can't afford."
Though Nina was undeniably cute, with her striking blue hair and fierce eyes, he didn't have time for such things. More than that he didn't deserve to be with anyone, not after what he'd done. Not after what he'd failed to do.
He still had yet to atone for his sins. The weight of them pressed on his shoulders constantly.
"Aww, Nina, it seems you've been rejected! How tragic!" Gal Farion teased, clearly enjoying himself immensely. "But don't be too sad one day this dense boy will wise up and be all over you. Just you wait!"
She drew her blade partially from its sheath in response, pointing it at Gal with shaking hands. "I swear to the gods—"
"Now, now, let's get down to business, shall we?" Gal's face instantly turned serious, the playfulness draining away like water. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. "Do you accept my offer to train under me, or not?"
Nina took a worried step back, recognizing that shift in her uncle demeanor. This was the Sword God now, not the playful uncle.
"I'm sorry, but I have to refuse," Rudeus spoke without hesitation, his voice firm and final. This wasn't a decision he'd made lightly, but it was the only one he could make.
This answer clearly confused both Nina and Gal they hadn't expected someone would refuse training with the Sword God himself. It was an honor people spent their entire lives hoping for, an opportunity that came once for a select few.
"I have things I need to do, and I can't waste my time here," he continued, already turning around, ready to leave. Each second here was a second not spent searching. "Important things that won't wait."
"What do you have to do? I can arrange for it to be handled," Gal Farion said quickly, not wanting to let this prodigious boy slip through his fingers. He actually knew that Reida Reia, the Water God, had also expressed interest in training the boy. There was something special about him, something rare. "Name it, and I'll make it happen. Money? Resources? Information?"
And though the boy didn't know this yet, he had a substantial bounty placed on his head for an alleged assassination attempt on a prime minister. It wasn't a small bounty either the kind of money that attracted serious hunters.
"I'm sorry, but this is a job only I can do," Rudeus said, his words coming out cold and final, like a door slamming shut. "No one else can do this for me. It's my responsibility, my burden to bear."
His tone chilled Nina to her core. To think there was someone out there who would refuse training with the Sword God himself, who would walk away from this opportunity like it meant nothing…
This angered her even more. He was being ungrateful and prideful, throwing away something she would kill for. She had wanted to be trained by Gal Farion personally, had begged for the opportunity, and he was just casually refusing like it was nothing? Like this chance was worthless?
"Rudeus, I want you to—" she started, stepping forward with her hand outstretched, but before she could finish her demand, she felt the cold steel of Rudeus's blade pressed against her neck.
The words she was going to speak died instantly in her throat. A cold sweat formed and dripped down her neck, running along the edge of his blade. She hadn't even seen him move one moment he was several feet away, the next his sword was at her throat. Her heart hammered in her chest.
"Hmm, what impressive speed," Gal Farion observed, his arms crossed over his chest. There was approval in his voice. "It's a real shame you refuse my training. I can sense the immense potential in you, boy. You could become something truly extraordinary."
He knew Rudeus wouldn't actually kill or hurt Nina the boy, even though he tried to hide it behind that cold exterior, definitely had a soft spot for her. Gal could read it in the way he positioned the blade threatening but careful, never actually pressing hard enough to draw blood.
"We'll meet again someday," Rudeus said, already sheathing his blade with a smooth motion. "When we do, we can battle. Grow stronger until then. Surpass your limits. Don't think one-dimensionally expand your worldview beyond just the sword." With that cryptic advice, he turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the hall.
Nina sat there in stunned silence, her hand slowly rising to touch her neck where the blade had been. There was no cut, not even a scratch, but she could still feel the phantom cold of the steel. And Gal could tell this encounter had lit a fire in her, could see the determination crystallizing in her eyes. She would get stronger. She would surpass him. She would make him acknowledge her.
But there was only one thing on Gal Farion's mind as he watched the boy leave. "Why does he carry two swords but only have one arm?" he murmured to himself, genuinely curious. The boy fought like someone who'd lost something precious, and that missing arm seemed to be more than just a physical handicap it was a story written in scars and determination. And that sword on his waist it looked so familiar.
-----
After Rudeus reached the base of the mountain, the night had already taken over the sky, swallowing the last remnants of daylight. The beautiful moon shone down brilliantly, its pale light reflecting off the snow and lighting up the landscape in silver. The stars spread across the heavens like scattered diamonds.
Nights like this reminded him of what happened that night the night everything changed, the night he lost what mattered most. He sighed, trying to push away the memories before they could fully form. He didn't want to think about it again, didn't want to see their faces in his mind. About their crying faces, their accusations, their pain…
Before he could sink deeper into those dark waters of memory, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, gentle but grounding. "Rudy… thinking about the past again?"
He looked up, and it was Sylvia. Her face was soft with understanding, her eyes holding that familiar concern that he didn't quite know how to handle. She'd probably followed him or somehow known exactly when he'd return, like she always did.
"Thank you," he said quietly. He didn't say anything else, didn't elaborate or explain. He didn't need to. She understood anyway she always understood.
He walked away with her through the snow, their footsteps crunching in comfortable silence, her presence a small comfort against the cold night and the colder memories that haunted him.
A/N: a longer chapter to set the mood for the new arc I've been thinking about it do we want a smaller harem around 5-6 people or a bigger 7-8+ I wouldn't go over 10 tbh to much and if so who to add there's a lot of girls I can think of but there's probably some you guys would want