Blade of the Broken – Chapter One
In a world divided into four kingdoms, terrifying monsters appeared out of nowhere, attacking and slaughtering humans indiscriminately. The chaos brought devastation everywhere. In time, three kingdoms united to form a single army, and a global war erupted between humans and monsters. But the humans lost. More than half the world was destroyed. Countless people died.
Among the survivors was a young man named Hikari. He had lost his entire family in the war—everyone except for his best friend, Rin. But Rin had been separated from him during the early days of the collapse. For five long years, Hikari trained himself in the art of combat. Alone, he honed his skills, preparing to survive in this new world—and to find his lost friend.
Now, standing before the gates of Akiyama, a city fortified and weathered by time, Hikari tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. The leather was worn, molded to his hand after countless hours of practice. The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting dark silhouettes on the stone walls. People passed through the archway—traders, refugees, and survivors, their faces worn by hardship.
The city guards barely looked at him. They waved him through with tired expressions, their eyes dull from long days and longer nights. Inside, the marketplace buzzed—not with joy or energy, but with a quiet desperation. Merchants called out in weary voices, offering dried rations, cracked tools, and rusted weapons to those who could afford them.
"These markets remind me of the ones back in my kingdom… Niralf, the Northern Kingdom," Hikari said quietly, watching a bearded merchant clean a dented longsword. "I left a few days ago."
The merchant—an older man with streaks of gray in his beard—looked up, arching a brow. "Niralf, eh? I heard they held out longer than most." He paused. "Though I doubt they'll last much longer."
His tone wasn't cruel—just honest. Tired.
Nearby, a tall woman with a scar across her jaw turned sharply at the mention of Niralf. Her face tightened. "Lost my cousin in the first siege," she said flatly.
"I'm sorry," Hikari replied. "I lost my father in the war. And after that… the rest of my family."
The woman's gaze softened slightly. She nodded once. "Aye. It's been like that for a lot of us." She studied him for a moment before motioning to a nearby weapons stand. "That's my boy over there. Kaz. Lost his father, too."
The merchant set down the longsword with a heavy clank. "War makes orphans of us all," he muttered. He extended a hand. "Name's Otsuki. Lost my son in the first month."
He looked Hikari over, eyes narrowed slightly in evaluation. "So what brings you to our broken little kingdom?"
Hikari shook his hand firmly. "I'm searching for the last person I have in this world."
Otsuki exhaled through his nose. "Aye. Holding onto the last… I've heard that before."
The scarred woman spoke again, quieter this time. "You'll need to be careful. If you're looking for someone, the records hall might help. Otherwise… you might find them. Or you might not."
A thin boy shuffled over—dark-haired, sharp-eyed. He held out a battered dagger. "This one still has a good edge."
Otsuki took it, tested the blade with his thumb, then nodded. "Not bad, Kaz."
He looked back at Hikari. "You looking for a weapon? I don't have the best steel, but I've got what's left."
Kaz watched Hikari cautiously, silently sizing him up.
The woman—Kaz's mother, Omite—snorted. "He's not here to buy rusty blades. He's looking for someone."
Before Hikari could respond, the air shifted. Boots stomped through the dust. A group of soldiers approached the stall. One slapped a hand on the table.
"Supplies for the front," he said. His voice was flat, almost bored.
He pointed at several items—the longsword Otsuki had just cleaned, a few daggers, a rusted vest of chainmail.
Otsuki's jaw clenched. "Of course."
Kaz leaned toward Hikari and whispered, "They say they're soldiers of the kingdom… but they're just thieves."
Hikari stepped forward. "Wait. What do you think you're doing, you idiots? Give back what you took."
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "You dare insult us, foreigner? Do you know who we are? Kneel. Now. And hand over your coin."
He reached for his sword. The marketplace fell still. Traders and travelers looked away. Omite stiffened. Kaz clenched his fists.
Otsuki whispered, "Please… don't."
Hikari didn't back down. "What if I don't?"
The soldier's lip curled. He moved.
Steel flashed. Hikari dodged, but the blade sliced his side, cutting through his shirt and skin.
Pain flared.
Before the soldier could raise his sword again, Hikari drew his own and struck low—fast. Steel tore flesh. The soldier screamed as he collapsed, blood pouring from his foot.
The second soldier lunged, blade raised. Hikari met it, sparks flying as swords clashed. He held firm.
The soldiers hesitated. Then turned. "You'll pay for this!" they spat as they fled, leaving behind their stolen loot.
Otsuki rushed to gather his things. Relief showed on his face. Kaz stared at Hikari like he was seeing him for the first time.
Otsuki said, "Thank you, my friend. I owe you. Please… come inside."
Omite added, "Kaz will treat your wound. You were about to say something before they interrupted?"
"I need a spare sword," Hikari said, pressing a hand to his side.
Otsuki knelt behind the stall, pulling out a shortsword. "Plain, but it'll hold an edge. It's yours."
"Thank you."
Hikari tested it—too quickly. The motion reopened his wound. He dropped to the ground.
"Stubborn idiot," Omite snapped. "Kaz, bring him inside."
The house was small, simple. A single oil lamp lit the space. Kaz worked quickly, pulling out cloth and ointment.
"You're bleeding a lot," he muttered. "Mother says too much blood loss brings fever."
He wrapped the wound tightly, efficiently. "When can I fight again?" Hikari asked.
Kaz frowned. "Two days, maybe more. If it gets worse, longer."
Omite checked the bandage. "Depends how well you listen."
She looked him in the eye. "You want to fight? Stay alive first."
Kaz packed away his tools. The pain in Hikari's side pulsed with every breath.
"You can stay," Omite said. "There's a bedroll near the fire."
"I should leave," Hikari replied.
Omite turned sharply. "You're not staying?"
"It's dangerous," she warned. "Especially now. The soldiers might come back. The night's worse."
Kaz nodded silently.
Omite's voice softened. "We have food. You're weak. Rest."
Hikari looked down. "There's nothing I can do."
Omite bristled. "You save my son, get stabbed, and now say that? That's not bravery. That's foolishness."
She shoved a bowl of stew into his hands. "Eat."
Hikari took it. "Your words are harsh."
"And your pride is dangerous," she replied.
The stew was warm. Simple. Nourishing. As Hikari ate, Omite spoke.
"My name is Omite. That's Kaz. Sleep by the fire. He'll check your wound in the morning."
"Thank you," Hikari said quietly.
Kaz approached after dinner. "You're tired. I'll show you the bed."
The pallet was thin but clean. Kaz checked the bandage again. "This should hold. Let me know if it bleeds again."
Hikari lay down. Pain throbbed. The fire crackled.
He asked softly, "Aren't you afraid… of monsters attacking at night?"
Kaz hesitated. Omite scoffed. "If they wanted us dead, we'd be dead."
Kaz finally answered. "They know where we are. If they meant to kill us… they would've."
"They don't kill for no reason," Omite added. "They hunt. Like wolves."
Silence fell again. Hikari stared at the fire, thoughts swirling.
He whispered, "Do they really kill just to achieve their goal?"