The night was silent, almost unnaturally so. The cursed shadow stood at the edge of the forest, its twisted form pulsating like living darkness, eyes glowing with malevolent hunger. Its jagged limbs twitched unnaturally, as if the creature itself was barely bound together.
Elric's throat went dry. His whole body screamed at him to run, but his legs refused to move. That thing… that smell… it's pure death.
Orin, however, stood calmly. A man of fifty, lines of age etched across his weathered face, he seemed almost ordinary at first glance. Yet in that moment, facing the cursed shadow, he radiated something Elric had never felt before—an overwhelming, unshakable presence.
"Elric," Orin said, his voice deep and calm, "stand back. Watch carefully. This is what it means to fight a shadow."
Elric stumbled backward, his eyes glued to his master. His hands shook as he gripped his own sword, but he knew—he was nothing compared to either of the two figures facing each other now.
The shadow let out a screech, a bone-chilling sound that made Elric's stomach twist. It moved—fast, impossibly fast. In a blink, it closed half the distance between them, its claws extended, its body stretching unnaturally toward Orin.
But Orin didn't flinch.
He stepped forward. One hand on his sword's hilt, his stance as steady as a mountain. His movements were deliberate, patient, waiting.
For a single heartbeat, everything was still.
Then they clashed.
The shadow slashed downward with claws that could shred steel, but Orin's blade moved faster. With a flash, steel met darkness. Sparks exploded. The impact shook the ground beneath Elric's feet.
The shadow screeched and spun, its movements wild, unpredictable—but Orin matched it step for step, his expression calm, his footwork flawless.
"Elric!" Orin called, his voice carrying over the chaos. "Look closely! Shadows are fast—but their hunger makes them reckless. Control your breathing, control your movements. That is the key."
Elric nodded shakily, though his heart was pounding too hard to breathe properly. His eyes darted between the blindingly fast strikes. How… how is he keeping up with that monster? He's an old man! My old man teacher! This isn't normal!
The shadow lunged again, this time from the side, its body twisting unnaturally, claws aimed at Orin's throat.
For the first time, Orin's eyes sharpened.
His blade rose, and with it—a shimmering aura. Water. The sword seemed to breathe, its steel flowing like a river, graceful yet deadly.
"Breath of Flowing Waters… Third Form."
His voice was calm, almost gentle.
The blade sliced through the air, and with it came a wave of shimmering cuts, like petals scattering in the wind. The sword didn't just slash—it sang.
The shadow froze mid-attack. Its glowing eyes widened. And then, in one perfect motion, Orin's blade cut clean across its throat.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
The shadow's screech cut short. Its body twisted, shuddered… and then began to crumble, dissolving into nothing but black mist.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Elric stared, his mouth open, his heart hammering.
"W-what… what was that?!" he gasped. "Flowers?! Water?! Did… did your sword just sing?!"
Orin calmly wiped his blade, sliding it back into its sheath. His expression didn't change.
"This," he said quietly, "is how you slay a cursed shadow."
Elric stumbled forward, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Master… you're… you're insane! You just… you just cut that thing like it was nothing! That thing could've eaten me alive in one bite and you—"
"Calm yourself," Orin interrupted. "That was only a lesser shadow. Stronger ones will not fall so easily."
Elric froze, his jaw dropping. "…THAT was a lesser shadow?!"
His head spun. If that monster was weak, then what the hell do the strong ones look like?!
Orin glanced at him, his tone firm. "Now you understand why your training matters. Surviving traps in the forest was just the beginning. If you wish to be a Slayer, you must be ready for more."
Elric groaned, clutching his head. "You're really trying to kill me, aren't you? Admit it, Master. You just want a replacement student because the last one probably died in some horrible way!"
Orin smirked faintly. "If you die, you weren't meant to be a Slayer."
Elric's eyes widened. "That's not comforting at all!"
By the time the sun rose, Elric had barely slept. His mind kept replaying the fight, every movement of Orin's blade burned into his memory.
When Orin entered the room, Elric sat up immediately, still groggy. "Master… yesterday… that was unbelievable. I mean, terrifying. I mean… are you even human?"
Orin ignored the rambling. "If you wish to walk this path, you must face your next test."
Elric blinked. "…Wait. What? Already?!"
"Yes," Orin said firmly. "Your journey as a Slayer begins now."
Elric's heart sank. Great. Just great. Here I thought I'd get at least a week off for trauma recovery.
Orin led Elric deep into the forest. The air grew heavy, the trees thicker, until they arrived at a clearing.
In the center stood it—a massive, towering boulder, its surface rough and unyielding. It wasn't just a rock. It was a mountain pretending to be one.
Elric froze, staring up at it. His jaw dropped. "That's… a joke, right? Please tell me that's a joke."
Orin stood with his arms crossed. "This is your next test. Cut this stone."
Elric spun toward him. "WHAT?! With what, a mining company?! My sword will snap in half before I even scratch that thing!"
Orin's gaze was steady. "Every Slayer has faced this trial. If you cannot cut the stone, you cannot cut the shadows."
Elric threw his hands up. "Oh, great. So my choices are: break my sword, break my arms, or break my spirit. Thanks, Master. Truly motivational."
Orin didn't respond. Instead, he stepped back—and then, in a blur, his figure dissolved into thin air, vanishing like mist carried by the wind.
Elric blinked furiously. "Wait—wait, wait! Did you just leave me?! Did you just Naruto-vanish me?!" He ran forward, waving his arms at the empty clearing. "Master! At least give me a cheat code before you ditch me!"
Silence. Only the massive stone stood before him, unmoving, uncaring.
Elric sighed, dragging his sword out. He poked the stone lightly. The sword barely made a scratch.
He groaned, collapsing to the ground. "Yeah, I'm definitely dead. Shadows are scary, but this rock is scarier. Why? Because it doesn't even need to move to ruin my life."
He lay back, staring at the sky. "Maybe I should just open a bakery. Or a tea shop. Who needs to fight cursed shadows anyway? I could bake cursed pastries instead."
But deep down, he knew there was no turning back. His fists clenched, his gaze hardening as he sat up again.
No. I have to try. If I can't even face this, how will I ever face the shadows?
With that, he stood, gripping his sword tighter. His breathing slowed, steady, the way Orin had taught him. He raised the blade, focusing every ounce of willpower into one thought:
Cut the stone.
The blade fell—
And the story of Elric's struggle had only just begun.