Chapter Two: "The First Cut"
The black-armored warrior charged.
Raizel gritted his teeth and raised the unfinished blade. It wasn't polished. It wasn't balanced. But it felt alive in his grip — pulsing with that strange energy inside him.
Clash!
Steel met steel. The shock of the impact rattled his bones, but Raizel didn't fall. He pushed forward, driven not by skill but by something deeper — instinct… or perhaps, fate.
The dark warrior slashed again. Raizel dodged barely in time, the blade slicing a lock of his hair. He swung back, and though the strike was crude, a flash of orange light followed its path.
The warrior stumbled.
Raizel blinked. What was that?
The aura… it had responded.
But there was no time to think. Another enemy approached from the side, and Raizel twisted just in time to block. Sparks flew. Pain burned in his shoulder. Blood dripped to the ground.
He was outnumbered. Outclassed. But he refused to run.
He roared — and his aura flared.
A shockwave erupted from his blade, throwing the two warriors back. Villagers nearby stared in awe.
"Did that boy… use aura?" someone whispered.
Raizel didn't know how. But he knew one thing:
He could no longer be the boy who forged blades.
He had to become the one who wielded them.