Ten years after the Night of the Stars, Cain had grown into a sixteen-year-old youth, carrying within his heart the blazing flame of a dream despite life's hardships. He had grown up in a remote village surrounded by forests and mountains, where knighthood was a distant dream spoken of only in evening tales. He spent his time in the forest training lightly with a wooden stick as if it were a sword, trying to learn combat despite never having seen a real knight except in stories.
He was preparing for the long-awaited day: the Evaluation, which occurred every fifteen years, when the Empire sent knights from the royal palaces to the villages to assess the talents of citizens and supply the Shadow Kingdom with gifted young blood.
But the event was mostly for nobles. By tradition, only a limited number of commoners were allowed to take the evaluation, in the hope that one of them might possess strong mana. Yet the gap was vast — noble children were born surrounded by mana stones that nourished them with energy from birth, while commoners relied on luck alone, without resources or support.
That day, a group of three knights arrived wearing gleaming armor, accompanied by a massive mana evaluation stone glowing faintly with blue light. Villagers gathered in the square, and children lined up one by one. Many talents appeared, most of them weak, but a few shone brightly.
When Cain's turn came, his heart pounded — he dreamed of having power worthy of his ambitions. He placed his hands on the stone… and waited.
But— no. No, no… black Mana.
Everyone was shocked, and Cain felt something inside him shatter. Some villagers whispered with scorn:
"He's a monster… it's black Mana… we've been raising a beast."
Cain's face changed, fear filling his eyes. He turned toward the villagers, only to see them all staring at him with disgust and fear. Even the knights drew their swords and seized him.
"Why? I've done nothing! How?" he cried, before they dragged him away and locked him in a cell.
Night fell, the evaluation ended, and Cain sat alone in a dark room. The village elder entered — the man who was like a grandfather to all the children, loved by everyone. Cain saw hope in him, but the elder's eyes carried only contempt:
"I can't believe our village harbored a monster like you, you filthy creature."
The knights entered afterward, saying he would be disposed of, and the elder thanked them.
In the morning, everyone threw him out and cursed him. His eyes were sad, lifeless:
"Why? I never killed, stole, or did anything… I was one of you!"
The elder replied coldly:
"We never have and never will accept a monster like you. You are scum, no matter your origin, and you will never be one of us."
The knights took Cain into the forest. He pleaded and begged, insisting he had done nothing wrong.
"Why? Isn't the oath of knights to protect people from monsters and harm? Why?"
Their leader laughed:
"You really are a fool. Do you know why this test is done for both nobles and commoners?
The black mana is never born naturally — it is passed only through blood. The first bearers were born thousands of years ago, but it stopped since then. Out of fear of its power, anyone who has it is killed. Your father must have died before you knew him. Yes, you did nothing wrong, but your power is dangerous to everyone. Don't worry… we'll kill you mercifully."
They dragged him to a large pit.
"Impossible… ancient ruins!" Cain exclaimed.
"Yes, and we'll throw you in there," the knight replied.
Cain bit one of the knights on the neck, managing to run, but the leader drew his sword with lightning speed, severed Cain's arm, and pushed him into the abyss, his screams echoing.
Cain lost consciousness from the shock. In his dreams, he saw monsters devouring him as he screamed in vain. The knight had stabbed him multiple times; the pain was unbearable. He awoke to find his arm gone, his blood covering his face, his leg broken, and his spirit shattered.
The pain grew sharper as he recalled the villagers' hatred… Wasn't I one of them? Weren't we family? He began crying and screaming, clutching his severed arm.
He heard a strange sound and saw a group of massive spiders approaching — their eyes red, bodies huge, and legs spiked. He tried to escape and fight with what strength he had left.
He found a small opening, and with no other choice, he threw his severed left arm to the monsters to distract them, then slipped through and fell into a deeper pit.
Cain awoke to the sound of beasts growling around him, hopeless, broken, soaked in blood, missing his left arm. He no longer believed he could ever become a knight.
His face was pale, his eyes full of deep sorrow and hidden disappointment. His soul was shattered, and his dreams fell like dead leaves in the wind.
With a heart crushed by despair, all Cain had left was silent tears streaming from dead eyes that had lost all trust in the world. In the darkness, his cries were not of sorrow but of agony and injustice, born of betrayal and rejection he did nothing to deserve.
As he lay waiting for death, he spotted a strange thread shimmering in dark purple, stretching before him as if drawing a path in the darkness.
Cain followed the thread cautiously, his blood dripping from his wounds, the blood from his missing arm leaving a trail in the unlit void, until he reached a dark hall. There, he found a black sword glowing faintly with violet light like the night sky.
He stepped into the vast chamber, illuminated by shimmering blue hues, with light shining from beyond. Around him lay countless strange graves, all pointing toward the sword.
Standing before the blade, Cain felt the weight of unspoken questions filling the place, as a deep voice echoed:
"Do you believe in knighthood?
Do you believe in justice?
Do you believe in loyalty?
Do you believe in the honesty of this world?"
Cain knelt weakly before the sword, his body trembling, answering in a broken, tearful voice:
"I believe only in my oath.
I believe in my justice — there is no justice in people's hearts.
I believe in the loyalty of the dead who never betray.
I believe in the one who forged the oath from blood instead of steel."
The sword's deep voice pulsed with power:
"Then you have the strength for it."
Cain crawled toward the blade, and the moment he grasped its hilt, a dark force surged into his body, filling his soul with mysterious, shadowy energy.
In his mind, he heard the voice of the previous King of Knights — the Black Knight — along with vivid visions of combat techniques, sword abilities, and a message of hope for whoever inherited his power:
"Believe in my oath. Take my strength. Speak my vow."
Cain returned to reality, collapsing before the stone in which the sword was embedded — the symbol of ancient knights and their glory.
His eyes gradually changed from brown to deep violet, and his black hair grew darker still, as if the very power itself flowed in his veins.
His wounds healed at an astonishing rate, and his severed left arm began to regenerate, as though time itself reversed.
Cain lifted his head, and a deep voice emerged from his heart as he swore:
"I swear by the oath of the knights to be the glory of those who came before,
the enemy of those who break the oath, the beast to those who deny it.
I swear by the oath of the knights to be the glory of those who came before,
to be the enemy of those who break the oath, the beast to those who deny it.
I swear my loyalty to the good and death to the wicked — for them, death and torment.
I swear by my justice and my duty, and retribution to criminals.
I swear by loyalty to blood, and the sacrifice of all lives.
I swear in the name of death, and I vow to walk the path of darkness.
Let the darkness be my witness, and let death preserve my oath.
With my blood upon this sword, let the world witness the birth of my vow: the Oath of Death."
With every word he spoke, dark shadows began to appear throughout the hall, and behind him, knights clad in black armor materialized, kneeling, repeating the vow in powerful voices, standing upon the graves.
Little by little, the hall filled with their presence, as if the power Cain summoned had gathered followers from the shadows — guardians of a new oath, ready to fight by his side in his path of vengeance and salvation.
After Cain finished speaking the oath, his voice echoing throughout the hall, he slowly turned to face the kneeling Knights of Darkness, their black armor gleaming under the violet glow of the sword.
He looked at them with eyes blazing with determination and said in a strong, unyielding voice:
"You who believed and remained here, waiting for this moment — I ask for your loyalty, your strength, and your oath.
Together, we will restore the world to its rightful order, where justice and loyalty reign.
We will destroy those who broke the oath and betrayed the covenant.
Be my sword, my shield, and my soul in this battle.
We will let no one steal the dreams of innocence or destroy the glory of knighthood.
Now, join me, and together we will walk the path of vengeance and light."
In a solemn moment, the knights raised their swords high and shouted a single word that resounded through the hall:
"Loyalty to the Black Knight!
Loyalty to Death!
Loyalty to the Darkness!"
The voices of the Shadow Knights rang out in unison, their cries swelling into a wave of resolve that shook hearts and split the darkness.
The hall was alive with power — together, they had become an unstoppable force, ready to walk the path of the oath and vengeance, carrying the flame of hope and knighthood to the very end of the world.