Chapter Seven – The One Sword
Seth's gaze lingered on the second reward floating before him: the soul weapon. His hand trembled slightly as he tapped [Yes].
A heavy hum filled the chamber.
Without warning, a sword nearly his own height materialized in midair, radiating an oppressive aura. Startled, Seth instinctively leapt back—only to find his soft movement carried him all the way near the beginning of the chamber. His strength had grown too much.
In the center of the room, the weapon floated.
A blade of pure black steel, gleaming faintly as if it drank in the light. It had no sheath, no ornamentation, no jewel—only the endless depth of darkness that seemed to stretch across the polished edge. The morning sun filtering into the ruins kissed the blade, and for a moment it shone with a beauty both terrifying and alluring.
Seth approached cautiously, heart pounding. His hand rested on the hilt.
Just like before, a torrent of knowledge rushed into his mind—but this time it was far gentler, limited only to the claiming the sword.
He was supposed to drip a drop of his blood on it to form a bound, only after that could he wield it.
Letting go with a shaky breath, Seth turned toward the corpse of the black-striped ape. The rusted knife was still embedded in its neck. He pulled it free and, without hesitation, drew it across his own palm. His enhanced physique resisted, but persistence and pressure finally drew a deep crimson line.
Blood dripped onto the hovering sword.
The weapon drank it greedily. Golden inscriptions flared to life across the blade, glowing with an otherworldly brilliance. They crawled up from beneath the hilt, flowing like liquid light until they stopped just short of the tip. Seth didn't really know the meaning of the script, yet he understood it with his heart.
The One Sword.
The words were simple—yet the arrogance they carried was infinite, as if nothing else in existence mattered before it.
The inscriptions burned for a moment before fading. The massive weapon shrank slowly, folding in on itself until it fit perfectly in Seth's outstretched hand. He gripped it, swung lightly, and felt the air itself parted before it without resistance. It was as though the world acknowledged the blade's supremacy.
He pulled up his panel to check the details of the sword and when he did….
A wide grin couldn't help but cut across his face.
With a thought, the sword dissolved into shimmering motes of light, sinking into the back of his left hand. A golden tattoo of a miniature sword remained there. One thought summoned it again; another dismissed it.
Perfect.
Satisfied, Seth turned to the final reward—the trait. He wondered if he could even use it as among the first information he received was the fact that only those of the second stage and above were capable of having traits.
And he was merely of the first rank. Still accepting it.
A colorless orb appeared in his palm, carrying with it only the faintest of instructions: Break it.
He frowned but obeyed, crushing the orb. It shattered like fragile glass. Dust-like fragments seeped into his skin, his face, his chest—everywhere.
Then the pain came.
It was not fire, not electricity, not anything earthly. It was raw torment, burning through every nerve as if he were being unmade and reforged. Seth collapsed to the ground, convulsing, screaming without care for what monsters might hear him.
Five minutes.
That was all. But every second stretched into eternity. By the end, Seth's voice had gone hoarse, his throat ragged.
And then… it was over.
Bliss washed over him, a soothing contrast so sharp it almost made him laugh. He sat up, chest heaving, and realized he wasn't exhausted at all. If anything, he was stronger—much stronger. His body thrummed with vitality.
He pulled up his panel.
NAME: Seth
TRAIT(S): Weapon Mastery [+]
CORE: Initiate — Level One
SATURATION: 2%
STATS—
Physique: 5.0 [+]
Spirit: 5.0 [+]
ITEMS—
Soul Weapon: Sword
SP: 11.3
All his stats had jumped by one. His empty trait slot now bore the words Weapon Mastery, marked as Rare, with a plus sign beside it.
Expanding it revealed:
TRAIT: Weapon Mastery (restricted)
Rank: Rare [+]
Description: Grants instinctive understanding and proficiency with all weapons. The body adapts to wield them at their peak potential, regardless of prior training.
Seth whistled under his breath. It would seem the power of the trait was reduced but even then, That alone was terrifying. But then he pressed the plus sign, and the another line appeared.
Rare → Next Rank: 10,000 SP.
He felt his heart skip a beat. Ten thousand?!
Quickly shutting it, Seth steadied his breathing. He didn't have the heart to think about that number right now.
Still, he had SP left. He pushed it into Physique, feeling his body strengthen once more. Then, a thought struck him. He returned to the other ape corpses and crushed their skulls with his bare hands, digging until he found what he was looking for—two pulsing cores.
Energy from the beast cores poured into him, raising his Saturation to 9%. Clearly, it wasn't a simple linear climb.
Straightening up, Seth chuckled, dropping the bent crowbar he'd been holding onto since the start. He had no use for it now. He flexed his hand, the tattoo glowing faintly, and summoned the black sword once more.
Its edge shimmered with quiet promise.
Turning towards the distance where he heard the familiar howl of a wolf from and smirked.
"Old friend, I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to use you to test how strong i am now."
Then he stepped out, ready to test the new upgrade in strength.