I opened my eyes—or at least I thought I did.
And I saw it: darkness—endless, absolute, suffocating—closing in from every direction.
There was no ground beneath my feet, no sky above my head. No walls. No horizon. Just… void. Neither living nor dead. Not warm, not cold. A space stripped of meaning.
"Where… am I?"
Wasn't I supposed to be inside my own soul? My Inner World? That's what they said would happen. But this… this wasn't a world. It was nothing.
I called out, but no sound came. When I tried to scream, my voice was swallowed whole.
Even my thoughts felt... thinner.
Still, I moved. Step after step in every direction, but nothing changed. No floor, yet I walked. No light, yet I could see clearly. My shadowless form, my breathless existence—what kind of space was this?
I clenched my fists. Fear twisted inside me.
"I need to get back. Quickly."
The village… What were they doing to me now?
But if I wasn't feeling pain—if I was still in one piece—maybe, just maybe, I was okay on the outside. Maybe time was frozen. Or maybe my body was lying there, unguarded. Or worse...
I shook my head. No. Focus.
This was my Inner World. That meant I had a task.
I needed to choose an attribute. A Path addition, a core essence that would shape my style as a swordsman. That's what Alisa said before… before everything.
So I sat down.
Cross-legged. Lotus position. Something I hadn't done since waking up in this body.
Back in my old world, it always helped me center myself. Quiet the chaos. Find clarity.
As I exhaled, the void began to shift.
Faint lights flickered around me, one after another, like stars forming constellations in fast-forward. Dozens… no, hundreds of floating sigils, each glowing with a unique hue, a unique power.
The Attributes.
There was Lightning—sharp, fast, crackling with violent energy.
Fire—destructive, passionate, untamed.
Water—adaptive, graceful, relentless.
Phantom—illusive, graceful, detached from the material.
And many more, unknown and foreign to me.
I stood up slowly, walking among them, one by one. Each time I touched a glowing sigil, a vision appeared before my eyes: what my sword would become, how my attacks would transform.
But none of them felt right.
They were strong, yes. Beautiful. Powerful.
But it wasn't what I truly needed.
So I sat again. And I chose the unspoken path.
"I will create my own attribute."
Alisa never mentioned such a thing.
But no one ever told me I couldn't.
I closed my eyes.
What kind of attacks do I want? What kind of power reflects me?
I saw my blade slicing through flesh—and something more. Not just the body, but deeper. Beyond muscle, beyond bone.
The soul.
Every being has one. Strip it away, and all that's left is a shell.
My attribute would be twofold:
One-third physical, to strike the body.
Two-thirds spectral, to cut the soul. To burn what couldn't be seen. To wound what couldn't be healed.
It would bypass armor. Ignore regeneration. Shatter those who relied on brute strength.
Because no shield could block a wound to the soul.
As I envisioned it, a flicker of pale blue light shimmered before me. A tiny flame—barely the size of my palm. Quiet. Fragile. Yet impossibly deep.
I extended my hand.
"I choose you."
The moment my fingers touched it, the entire void ignited with blue fire. The nothingness around me burst into radiant light, washing away the darkness in one brilliant wave.
And just like that, I returned.
I gasped as my senses came flooding back.
Cold air. Rough ground. Pain in my wrists and ankles.
I was outside—chained. Bound to a wooden post jammed into the earth. My wooden sword was nowhere in sight.
My head throbbed.
But I was awake. My mind had cleared.
A man sitting nearby noticed. His face twisted in nervous surprise.
"You're awake," he said. His voice was wary, cautious. Like a man who didn't want to deal with what came next.
Soon, the villagers emerged from hiding. One by one. Watching me. Whispering. Eyes full of fear, not guilt.
Their expressions said it all: What do we do with him?
Then Ethan stepped forward. His voice betrayed his panic.
"What happens to us… if we untie you?"
I met his eyes with a glare sharp enough to freeze blood.
"You shouldn't worry about that," I said coldly.
He flinched. "W-why?"
I stayed silent.
Then, after a moment, I said, "I have three questions."
No one replied. I continued.
"First… Ethan. That story you told in the cave. The legend—was it real?"
He swallowed hard. "Yes. I didn't make it up. Everything I said... it was true."
"Good," I nodded.
He hesitated. "Why are you so calm? You're tied up. You don't have your sword."
I didn't answer.
But the others began to fidget. Their fear grew. They could sense it—something was wrong.
"Second question," I said. "Where's my sword?"
Ethan looked confused, then answered almost involuntarily.
"In the armory. With the rest of the weapons."
Everyone stared at him, silently thinking the same thing: why did he just say that?
But no one dared to ask aloud—because deep down, they all knew the truth:
if they didn't answer, they would die.
They looked into my eyes—empty, lifeless, hollow.
But within that void burned something far worse than anger.
Disappointment.
Pity.
And then I smiled.
"Final question," I said softly.
"How many people did you sacrifice?"
Silence fell.
A tremble rippled through the crowd.
Ethan shouted, waving his hand like a preacher before the noose.
"Don't play dumb! You're just a passerby! We let you live out of mercy—out of gratitude! You should be thanking us! Not asking questions like that!"
I stopped smiling.
"So you still have mercy?" I whispered. "That's rich."
I leaned forward, voice growing sharper.
"How many? How many lives did you offer up in exchange for your own? How many innocent people did you murder while trembling behind your walls?"
He couldn't answer.
"You couldn't even kill me," I continued. "Too cowardly. Too ashamed. You left that to the monster. You wanted peace but weren't willing to fight for it. You call that logic?"
"Shut up!" Ethan screamed. "Shut the hell up!"
He grabbed an axe from one of the villagers and raised it.
But it was too late.
With a single pull, I shattered my chains, splintered the pillar, and stood tall.
"You had the guts to lift an axe against me. But where was that bravery when the monster came? Where was your so-called mercy when others screamed for help?"
I caught him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
"Tell me. Did even one of you try to resist? One trap? One scream? One plea for hope?"
He gasped. "No…"
"Then answer me, one last time," I said. "How many?"
He wheezed. "T-Twenty-one…"
I laughed bitterly. "There are over forty of you here. That means more than a third left this world—because you were too afraid to act."
Tears blurred my vision. I smiled through the sorrow.
"You deserve death."
And I snapped his neck.
The crowd panicked. Some tried to run. Others reached for weapons. But it didn't matter.
I moved like a storm. A quiet, controlled slaughter.
Not rage. Not revenge.
Judgment.
They had chosen silence. Inaction. Cowardice.
And now… they were gone.
The rain came. Washing the blood from my hands, from my clothes.
I stood in the ruins, tears still falling.
And it hit me.
Killing humans… felt no different than killing monsters.
That's when I realized.
I was the monster now.
Not by appearance, but by what lies within the soul.
Later, I walked into the armory. And I saw my wooden sword. But something was missing.
The sheath.
Then I saw it: a matching scabbard made from the same wood, same craftsmanship. I strapped it to my side, sliding the sword in with a practiced motion.
To my shock, I felt it—essence flowing from blade to sheath in perfect harmony. Balanced. Synchronized.
They would now absorb essence together.
Which meant… I'd need more essence spheres to grow stronger.
More than ever before.
Before leaving, I set the village ablaze.
Let the world come running. Let them see what happened here. Nothing was left behind—not a trace, not a single witness.
And as I walked alone toward the distant city, I whispered to the wind:
"I've changed. I'm not who I was."
"From now on… I'll save only those who deserve it."
"And the rest?"
"I'll kill them."