Zay's eyes scanned the room, taking in the figures surrounding him. All six had striking azure-blue hair and piercing sapphire eyes—an uncanny resemblance that put him on edge. He quickly drew the katana from its midnight-blue sheath. A deep aura burst forth from the blade, swirling around him and the blade in waves of midnight-blue. His own violet aura reacted immediately, intertwining with it in a mesmerizing blend.
"Where the hell am I?" he asked sharply, his voice cutting through the silence.
Rin, still unsteady, rose to his feet with the help of the others. His breaths were heavy, labored. "M-My name is Rin Raiden," he began. "We found you after you were knocked unconscious… I can only assume it was from fighting Tharvul. That, and the collapsing branch that were on top of you."
Zay didn't blink. He stared at Rin for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "That didn't answer my question. Where am I?"
"You're in the Clan of Raiden," Rin replied, steadier this time.
Zay's eyes flicked over the other five men in the room. None of them looked like they could survive a Shattered Sequence, let alone slay a beast within one. He slowly sheathed the blade again, keeping his gaze on Rin—just in time to see Rin's arms suddenly enlarge, bulking up in a slow, unnatural growth.
"What the hell was that?" Zay asked, his grip tightening around the katana's handle.
Rin flinched. "I-It's my Error!" he stammered. "It's called Never-Ending Arm Growth. Sounds stupid, I know, but it's actually pretty useful since my Seal eats away at my arm mass when I heal. So… this keeps me from turning into a twig. Please don't kill me! I'm just a medic!"
Zay raised an eyebrow. "Right. Errors... I almost forgot those exist. There's a chance for an error between Sequences two through five. Upon clearing Sequence six, you will be given one." he muttered under his breath.
Suddenly, [Predator's Hunting Grounds] activated on its own. Lines and intricate patterns illuminated across the floor and walls, visible only to Zay's heightened senses. Reacting instantly, he unsheathed the katana and positioned the blade along one of the shimmering lines—just as a dagger whistled through the air toward him.
The weapon struck the katana with a sharp clang—and was split cleanly in two.
Zay snapped toward the door. "Who's there?!"
The door flung open, and there she stood—her—the same woman from earlier.
He let out a dry chuckle. "I'm quite the great sacrifice, aren't I?"
Rin blinked and looked at him, confused. "What the hell is he talking about?"
Jade smiled sweetly at Rin, brushing some hair behind her ear. "Oh, nothing important."
Zay scoffed. "Let me jog your memory. You ran off, left this sword with me, and told me I was some kind of sacrifice. That's the short version."
Jade rolled her eyes. "Anyways, the Elders have summoned you. I was told to bring you to them the moment you woke up."
Zay narrowed his eyes. "So you've been stalking me for… how long?"
"About five days or so," Jade said casually. "And yes, I have. Now, let's go meet the Elders. Also—since we're talking—my name's Jade Raiden."
Zay's tone turned sharp. "Why the hell would I follow you anywhere? You tried to kill me."
Jade paused mid-step, looked up at the ceiling then met his eyes again. "That was in the past. Forgive and forget, right?"
Zay's expression didn't shift. "That's not happening."
Jade sighed, pressing a hand to her face before lowering it to rest on her waist.
"The sooner you meet them, the sooner you leave, the sooner I don't have to look at you—and the sooner none of us have to deal with an outsider. I doubt you want to stay here. The only ones who can open the entrance or the exit to this place are the elders. So make your choice: follow me, or stay here with the rest of us. Just so you know, most of the bastards here hate outsiders... and they don't like us much either."
Zay's eyes flicked over her, scanning for any hesitation in her words, subtle body shifts, anything that hinted at a lie. After a moment, he sighed, sheathing the katana with a soft click.
He clipped the sheath to a small latch built into his pants—one clearly meant for carrying a katana.
"By the way," Jade added, rolling her eyes, "put on a damn shirt. I don't want the elders meeting some half-dressed outsider."
Zay arched a brow. "Then give me some clothes?"
Jade's eyes darted toward Rin, eyeing his white tunic. "Give him yours."
Rin recoiled a bit in disbelief, but after clicking his tongue, he muttered, "…It's to meet the elders, so I guess."
With a sigh, he peeled off the tunic and handed it over to Zay.
Zay pulled it over his head and arms, adjusting it slightly. He gave Rin a small nod. "You've got good taste. This is… surprisingly soft."
"For once, someone agrees with me? You can move in with me if you'd like!" Rin said, his hesitation melting away instantly.
Zay blinked a few times before shaking his head slowly.
Without another word, Jade turned and walked out of the room. Zay followed, deciding to follow the person who tried to kill him was better company than the room behind him.
Zay followed behind Jade through a narrow corridor dimly lit by violet crystal sconces embedded in the stone walls. The air was heavier here—less humid, but dense with power, as if every breath carried whispers of judgment.
They entered a circular chamber carved from dark stone, its ceiling lost in shadow. At the far end sat nine chairs, evenly spaced in a crescent. Each one was carved from different material—oak, obsidian, ivory, and more—symbolic, perhaps, of their bearers' paths or elements.
Jade moved without a word, walking to the center of the room. She lowered herself to her knees, both hands flat against the stone floor in a respectful bow.
Zay stopped beside her. His eyes roamed across the seated figures with open curiosity. He made no move to kneel.
"So," he said, his voice low but clear, "why the hell did you want to see me?"
From the center throne, a man stirred.
His skin was pale and marked by age, but not fragility. Two faint, dark horns curled from his temples, and his long, pointed ears resembled that of a highborn elf. His robes were storm-gray, threaded with silver lines that crackled faintly like veins of lightning. His sapphire eyes, though dimmed by the fog of time, held a stillness that pierced deeper than any blade.
"I am Kyro Raiden," the elder said, his voice smooth and calm—yet layered with weight.
Then, without warning, he released his aura.
It exploded in a silent wave, crashing over the chamber like thunder without sound. The seven elder figures beside him shuddered, gripping the arms of their chairs. The two younger elders crumpled to one knee, sweat beading along their brows. Jade collapsed completely, her body pressed into the stone as if gravity had multiplied.
Zay's eyes narrowed. He didn't react, but the midnight-blue-sheathed katana at his side trembled—and then it unleashed.
A midnight-blue aura surged forth, wrapping around Zay like a living tempest. It collided with Kyro's pressure—and shattered it instantly. A silence so deep it rang echoed through the chamber as every drop of power was snuffed out like a candle.
Every elder but Kyro drew their weapons.
Tension coiled in the room like a snake ready to strike.
Kyro, however, stood—for the first time in two years. The ancient wood of his chair creaked slightly as he rose, his eyes never leaving Zay.
"...Who is the goddess you serve?" he asked abruptly, voice sharper now, the calm giving way to urgency.
There was no hesitation. No fluff.
Just the demand to know.
The other elders glanced at one another in confusion, their hands still hovering near their weapons. None spoke, but the tension in the air was palpable.
Jade, breathing heavily, managed to stay upright on her knees. Her eyes slowly lifted toward Zay, her mind spinning.' What the hell just happened?' she thought, watching him with wide, stunned eyes.
Zay's voice came out calm—but not prideful. There was weight to it. A quiet reverence.
"Nira. Goddess Nira. The only goddess or god I'll ever put my faith in."
The chamber fell silent.
Kyro's sapphire eyes widened. For the first time in decades, his mind was shaken by a memory long buried.
—
The room had once been filled with moonlight and firelight, the shadows of ancient pillars stretching across polished stone. Before him stood a man clad in sleek black armor, trimmed with glowing crimson patterns. On the back of his left hand, an hourglass symbol was burned into his flesh. On the right, a crescent moon crossed by two fangs.
"Goddess Nira," the man said softly, holding a silver sheath in his hand. "That's who crafted this blade. Though I can't access its full strength... Perhaps the next chosen one will."
Kyro remembered turning to the man. "What do you mean?"
The armored figure chuckled, his voice deep but gentle. "I cannot wield its true nature. I do not understand this world as you do, Kyro. The memories… even my own name—my true name—will fade soon. But I'll leave it with you. Because you'll last longer than anyone else in this world."
He smiled, sad but serene. "I am a king of patience. Of love. Of loyalty and fairness to my people. But my time is ending."
The man unlatched the sheath from his belt and extended it toward Kyro. "Try to lift it."
Kyro raised an eyebrow but took the sheath. The moment the man's hand let go, the weapon's weight became immense. Kyro dropped to his knees, his arms trembling.
"It's impossibly heavy," he had growled, gritting his teeth.
The man laughed kindly, taking the blade back with ease and sliding it onto his waist once more.
"Its name is Evershade, the Dream-Reaving Blade. Forged by Goddess Nira herself. The only one she ever made. It chooses its wielder. Waits patiently. It has a will of its own, in a way."
Then he looked down, softer than before. "I'll probably infuse it with a part of my own soul before I die. Just to leave… a surprise. For whoever the blade chooses next."
The memory faded like smoke.
Kyro's eyes snapped back to Zay. Then drifted down—to the sheath at his side.
It was the same design. The same craftsmanship. Only now... it shimmered with midnight-blue energy, not silver. But he recognized it all the same.
It was the sheath he'd given to Jade. The one only she had been able to lift, though even she could not unsheathe it.
Kyro laughed softly, almost wistfully, before removing the glove from his right hand.
The moment his skin was exposed, a crimson light flared from his palm, expanding outward like rippling heat. The entire chamber seemed to shift. Lines of age smoothed, hair darkened, and the once-frail elder stood tall and proud—now resembling a warrior in his mid-twenties, lean and sharp with strength etched into every movement.
Gasps echoed around the chamber.
Even the other elders leaned forward, stunned.
None of them had ever seen this before.
Kyro flexed his fingers as if remembering what it felt like to be young again. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Have a duel with me," he said, his tone calm yet crackling with excitement. "I want to verify this... further."
One of the younger elders finally spoke. "Kyro, what is this—?"
But Kyro cut in, eyes never leaving Zay. "There was a man. A man of great power... He gave me these gloves. Said they'd let me return to my prime. Just once."
He raised the bare hand, the faint crimson glow still pulsing from beneath the skin.
"He told me to use this gift only when Evershade had chosen its next wielder to verify their strength. It seems that time has come."
Zay narrowed his eyes slightly. The old man's confidence was real—too real. But he wasn't buying it all yet.
Kyro turned toward Jade without missing a beat.
"Jade. Try lifting the sword again."
Zay clicked his tongue, already shaking his head with a faint smirk. "Still playing at theatrics, huh?"
Even so, he reached down, unclipped the midnight-blue sheath from his belt, and held it out casually toward her.
Jade nodded, stood up and raised her hands. She wasn't sure what would happen this time—but she too was curious since she could wield it just a few days ago.
Zay let go.
The moment the sheath touched her palms—her knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground, barely catching herself with one arm. A violent force slammed into her chest like a hammer, knocking the breath from her lungs. She coughed, saliva hitting the floor as her fingers immediately let go.
Zay reached down with one hand and casually scooped the sheath back up.
The katana slipped free from the sheath in a smooth, near-silent draw. The blade shimmered—sleek and elegant, forged with divinity. It hummed faintly in his hand, as if acknowledging him.
Zay placed the sheath back onto the latch at his side.
He looked at Kyro, with a smirk.
"Alright, I guess we can have a duel then. I don't completely understand what this is all about…"
He tilted his head, his body glowing faintly violet.
"…but I'm interested."