As my consciousness returned, I found myself lying on the cold stone floor of the cave's chamber. My body felt heavy, but there was no more pain. The searing agony from earlier had vanished as if it were nothing but a bad dream.
But something had changed.
The sword—no, his sword—stood planted beside me, glowing with an intense blue light that nearly blinded me. The glow was no longer faint or flickering. It pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and powerful, illuminating the cavern with a celestial radiance.
I raised my hand to shield my eyes, but even then, my attention was stolen by the floating window that shimmered in front of me. The light-blue translucent screen hovered just above my face, displaying something I never thought I'd see in this world.
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Skill Information
A Player's Privilege (Partially Unlocked)
[All-Knowing Eyes] – Grants the Host the ability to perceive detailed information about individuals from the game and alter the descriptions of in-game objects.
[Limitless Aptitude] – Host gains a 500% increase in learning proficiency across all domains, including weapon mastery, magic, craftsmanship, and academic knowledge.
Sub-Skill
[His Legacy] –Temporarily borrow the power of a certain Hero from the past. Host may experience extreme physical and mental fatigue after use.
(Cooldown: ??)
[Locked]
[Locked]
[Locked]
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I stared at the screen, jaw slack and eyes wide. For a moment, my mind blanked.
'This… this is insane.'
Even in its partially unlocked state, this skill set was already beyond broken. Knowledge, enhanced learning, and access to probably Elden's Strength? It felt like I had just turned the cheat codes on.
I couldn't tear my eyes away.
A rush of conflicting emotions washed over me. Awe. Confusion. And something else I didn't expect—responsibility. With power like this came expectations, and those expectations had names.
Elden.
Mira.
Their faces came flooding back to me. Elden's calm and steady gaze. Mira's warm yet fragile smile. Her final words still rang in my ears:
"Please… remember me."
It wasn't a demand. It wasn't even a plea. It was the heartfelt whisper of someone who willingly gave up everything just for the hope that someone—anyone—might carry on her memory.
And no one did.
No statues. No mentions in history. No acknowledgement of her sacrifice. Even I, a player of the game, never heard her name.
I clenched my fists.
'I'll remember you, Mira. And you too, Elden. I'll make sure the world remembers.'
A new sense of purpose filled me as I turned toward the sword. Its glow hadn't dimmed, but it now felt... familiar. Welcoming. Like it had accepted me.
A new window appeared before my eyes as I reached for it.
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Name: Sword of Broken Faith (Awakened)
Item Description:
A sword once wielded by the great hero who sealed the Demon King. Capable of cutting through dimensions at full power.
Abilities:
→ Increases Damage Dealt by Sword Skills by 50% when wielded.
→ Increases Mastery over Sword Techniques by 500% when wielded.
→ Soul-bound: Cannot be used by another unless permitted by the wielder.
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My hand wrapped around the hilt.
This time, there was no searing pain. No resistance. No rejection. The sword accepted me as its master, and the blinding light gradually faded, getting drawn into the blade until it radiated a dark, deep shade of blue. Quiet. Powerful.
"Looks freaking awesome."
As if responding to my thoughts, another message popped up.
> [Dimensional Space Unlocked]
> [Do you wish to store the item?]
"Yeah," I muttered.
The sword dissolved into tiny particles of light and vanished from my hand.
"That's... pretty handy," I whispered, exhaling softly.
Still feeling the aftershock of everything, I grabbed the old sword my father had gifted me—now far less impressive, but still comforting in its own way—and turned toward the exit of the cave.
The walk back wasn't long, but it felt surreal. Every footstep echoed with a newfound gravity.
When I reached the sealed entrance, it didn't take long to react. The wall shimmered faintly before opening up, as if acknowledging that I was now worthy to leave.
The light of day hit my eyes, and I squinted.
But what I saw made my heart drop.
Sir Leon was on the ground, unconscious, his armor cracked and stained with blood. Sir Ben was struggling to stay upright, one knee planted firmly while his sword shook in his grip. Sir John had his back against a tree, his breathing ragged, a deep gash running down his arm.
They were surrounded.
A pack of grotesque monsters snarled and hissed, blood dripping from their jaws. Their bodies were deformed and unnatural—more like failed experiments than living creatures.
But at the center of them stood a figure that eclipsed them all.
A towering beast with the head and tail of a bull, grotesque muscles rippling under dark, matted fur. Its hooves cracked the earth beneath with every step, and its massive nostrils flared with fury.
A minotaur.