"How?"
Reagon reply was equally brief
"Magic."
At that moment, Khazak felt a fire ignite within him. His body overflowed with energy and excitement—a mage... yes, he was going to become a mage. His eyes sparkled with a brilliant flame, and he couldn't sit still. Even Reagon was surprised at his enthusiasm. He sat down beside Khazak and began to speak.
"Alright, kid. From now on, we're starting your training together."
"Of course, but why did you suddenly decide to start training me?" Khazak asked.
Reagon playfully smacked the back of Khazak's neck.
"Because, kid, you took the Fenrir that was sent to me."
Khazak felt a slight pang of regret, but it vanished almost instantly.
"Huh... but why was a Fenrir sent to you in the first place? And who sent it?"
"Since you're asking, I'll tell you. Right now, there's an ongoing war between humans and demons, and humans are in a tough spot... We're at the point where we have to use everything we have. The war has halted, but it's nothing more than a temporary truce, maybe lasting a few years, or even just months. Demons are immortal, but humans aren't, so the longer this drags on, the worse it is for us."
"But why would they ask for help from an old man who's practically—"
In that moment, Khazak remembered Reagon's incredible speed from earlier and changed his question.
"Uncle Reagon... What exactly are you?"
After Khazak's question, a devilish grin spread across Reagon's face.
"I'm human, but I'm also a former dragon rider, one of the twelve legendary commanders, known as the famed Dragon Sign, Reagon Dragonsonn. Kid, you might not realize it, but you're standing in front of a legend."
Khazak froze the moment he heard the part about the twelve commanders. Even the most humble farmers in the most remote villages knew of them. Each one held the power of an entire army, humanity's greatest weapons, and now, one of them was standing right in front of him.
"But all of that is in the past. Now, I'm barely at half—maybe a little more—of the strength I had in my youth. Like I said, humans aren't immortal."
Khazak still hadn't fully processed the situation. He was about to say something when Reagon cut him off.
"And since you've taken the creature that was sent to me, you'll carry on my LEGACY. An animal as legendary as a Fenrir shouldn't be in the hands of an untrained novice."
Khazak finally regained his composure. It was true—standing before him was a living legend. The old man he had known since childhood, Uncle Reagon, was one of the twelve legendary commanders. Even the apprentices of the twelve commanders were said to have the strength of a hundred men. And now, Khazak was on the verge of becoming the apprentice of one of them. His excitement surged, and he jumped to his feet, exclaiming:
"Let's get started! When do we begin?"
"Calm down, kid. First, I'll explain what we're going to do. Sit down."
Khazak immediately dropped to the ground, as if every word Reagon spoke was an order, a priceless piece of knowledge. Reagon then began to speak:
"First, you need to learn how to survive," Reagon said.
He drew the smaller sword from his side—a standard-looking blade, though shorter than a typical sword, with no decorative markings. Unlike the usual ornate weapons his uncle used, this one was plain. Without warning, Reagon tossed the sword into Khazak's lap. Khazak instinctively caught it.
"Well, at least your reflexes are good. You'll be using this sword throughout your training."
Just as Reagon finished speaking, Khazak interrupted.
"I don't need it. I already have a sword."
Khazak pulled out his own sword from the side and showed it to Reagon. The moment Reagon saw the sword, he immediately stepped closer to inspect it closely.
"Where did you find this sword?"
Reagon asked, his voice filled with admiration as he gazed at the weapon.
"My uncle made it... He said it was for an elf, but... well, you know what happened."
At the mention of this, Khazak's mood dropped for a moment, but he quickly shook it off.
"Khazak, do you even know what this sword is made of? This is forged from Chaylbe. Even with all my strength, I wouldn't easily break this sword. And you said it was made for an elf, right? So why do you have it?"
Khazak had never thought about it like that before. It felt as if he had taken a sword that had already been paid for, with the metal provided for it... but this sword was his uncle's last and only legacy to him. Khazak was genuinely confused about what to do.
"I don't know... My uncle left this sword to me with his final words, as a legacy. And the elf who ordered it never came to claim it, so it's been with me ever since."
"I see. Alright then, hand over the sword," Reagon said.
Khazak passed the sword to Reagon.
"You fucking can't use this sword. Do you even know how heavy it is for you? It weighs at least five times more than a normal blade."
Reagon was right. Khazak had to drag the sword along the ground just to move with it.
"So what's going to happen to the sword?"
"It'll stay with me until your training is complete. Speaking of which, let's go. We're leaving."
"What? Where are we going? How are we going?"
"Stop talking and get over here."
Reagon stuffed Luna into his backpack, with only her head sticking out while the rest of her body fit snugly inside. In one swift motion, he grabbed Khazak by the waist, lifting him effortlessly under his arm. He took a deep breath, his muscles tensing, and in the blink of an eye, with Khazak in one arm and Luna on his back, he sped off towards the forest at an incredible speed. Within seconds, they were standing on a hill overlooking the entire forest, with the village barely visible in the distance. Reagon set Khazak down, and immediately, Khazak dropped to one knee and vomited—the extreme speed of the journey had overwhelmed him. After a few more heaves, he looked up at Reagon with fiery, eager eyes, ready to begin his training.
"Your training starts right here, right now."
"But how?"
A devilish grin crept across Reagon's face once again as he suddenly appeared next to Khazak and lifted him by the scruff of his neck.
"For the next month, you'll survive in the forest. During this time, the fenrir stays with me, and the only thing you'll have is the sword I gave you. If you come back here before the month is over, I'll send you right back to the forest—this time without a sword. And without that, you won't stand a chance against the monsters. Good luck."
After saying that, Reagon tied a rope around Khazak, handed him the sword, and threw him off the cliff into the forest below. Khazak was horrified, screaming helplessly as he fell. Just as he was about to hit the ground, the rope jerked, stopping his fall mere inches from certain death. He dangled for a moment before being pulled back up slightly, spinning in the air, only to be unceremoniously dropped onto the forest floor.
Now, armed only with a sword and his unscathed body, Khazak had to survive in the forest for a month—against monsters. His uncle had always warned him and Roran never to venture too deep into the woods, telling them the creatures that lurked there were terrifying and aggressive. Yet here he was, right in the heart of it, clutching a sword with no time to waste. Though he had never ventured this deep, he had spent enough time in the forest to know the basics of survival. He quickly stood up and pressed his ear to the ground, hoping to hear the sound of water. But there was nothing.
Suddenly, something strange latched onto his earlobe—a thick, worm-like creature. It was larger than the average worm, with a rounded head full of sharp teeth. Khazak instinctively grabbed it by the neck and squeezed until it snapped in two, saving his ear from being devoured.
Realizing that water was his priority, Khazak began to explore the area, knowing that survival depended on finding it quickly. After some time, a sound reached his ears—not water, but the distinct noise of metal slicing through the air. He had heard this sound before, back when his uncle crafted thin, sharp swords, but hearing it from so far away was strange.
There were only two possibilities: either he was mistaken, or a master swordsman was nearby, practicing. What didn't cross Khazak's mind was the third possibility—that it could be a monster. He crouched low, moving stealthily but swiftly toward the sound, carefully parting the bushes as he advanced. The closer he got, the clearer and louder the sword's song became. Finally, after pushing aside one last bush, Khazak froze, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight before him.