Rael's trails were blocked and couldn't seen or sense his system for some reason. He looked at his sword and remembered he has been in the Realm for like months so he decided to head back and meet his grandfather.
Rael's heart pounded as he neared his grandfather's house. The path that had once been so familiar now felt foreign and unsettling. The trees, once tall and majestic, seemed gnarled and twisted, and the air was thick with an oppressive silence. When he finally saw the house, his blood ran cold.
It was a ruin.
The walls were crumbling, the roof had partially caved in, and the door hung loosely from its hinges. The garden, once meticulously maintained by his grandfather, was overgrown with weeds, the flowers trampled and forgotten. It was as if the place had been abandoned for weeks, if not months.
Rael approached cautiously, his heart heavy with dread. How long had he been gone? Time had lost meaning during his trials in the Eastern Realm, and he had no idea how much of it had passed.
He pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside. The sight that greeted him was even worse. The interior was in complete disarray—furniture overturned, shelves broken, and belongings scattered across the floor. It was clear that a battle had taken place here, and his grandfather had been outnumbered.
"Grandfather…" Rael whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He had always seen the old man as unbreakable, a pillar of strength in his life. But now, the harsh reality of the situation hit him with full force.
As he moved through the wreckage, a sense of despair began to creep in. The house, which had always been a place of warmth and safety, now felt like a tomb. Rael feared the worst, that his grandfather had been taken or worse—killed. But as he sifted through the debris, something caught his eye: a piece of parchment, slightly crumpled but still intact, lying on the floor near the fireplace.
Rael picked it up with trembling hands. The handwriting was unmistakable—it was his grandfather's.
"Rael,
If you are reading this, it means you have found the Forsaken Blade and returned safely. I am relieved, though I wish I could see you one last time. My enemies have found me, and I have fought to the end. I hope I have bought you enough time.
There are many things you do not know, Rael—about me, about your parents, and about your true purpose. I had hoped to tell you when the time was right, but fate has forced my hand.
If you seek answers, if you wish to understand the secrets that have been kept from you, you must go to the Sword Academy. There, you will find the truth. There, you will discover who you truly are.
Be strong, Rael. The path ahead is perilous, but I have faith in you. The Forsaken Blade chose you for a reason. Trust in yourself, and trust in the blade. It will guide you.
Your grandfather,
Eldric."
Rael's hands shook as he read the letter. His grandfather's enemies had finally caught up to him, and whatever secrets Eldric had been keeping were now beyond Rael's reach. But the letter pointed him toward the Sword Academy—the place where his journey would continue, where he would find the answers he so desperately needed.
But before he could process everything, Rael felt it—a presence, or rather, several presences. They were close, too close, and they were not the mindless monsters of the Eastern Realm. No, these were human, and their intent was clear: they were here to kill.
Rael quickly pocketed the letter, his instincts honed by his trials kicking in. He scanned the wrecked room for anything useful. There wasn't much left, but he grabbed a tattered cloak to conceal himself and slipped out the back door, moving as quietly as possible.
As he crept through the shadows, the figures came into view—three men, heavily armed and moving with a practiced precision that told Rael they were no mere bandits. They were searching the house, their movements methodical, their expressions cold and focused.
Rael's mind raced. Whoever they were, they were likely the same people who had destroyed his home and possibly killed his grandfather. And now they were here for him. But why? What did they know? What were they after?
He couldn't afford to be caught off guard. These men were dangerous, but Rael was no longer the same weak boy who had been giftless and unchosen. He had survived the trials of the Forsaken Blade, and while he still had much to learn, he was not defenseless.
Drawing on the dark energy of the Forsaken Blade, Rael steadied his breath and prepared himself. He would have to fight, and he would have to win. There was no other choice.
As the men approached, Rael tightened his grip on the blade and whispered to himself, "For you, Grandfather. I will find the truth."
With that, he stepped out of the shadows, ready to face his first battle against the enemies who had shattered his world.
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Rael stepped into the open, his heart pounding but his mind sharp. The three men turned to face him, their eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of the boy standing before them. He could see the calculating gleam in their gazes, the way their hands tightened around the hilts of their swords. They weren't surprised to see him; they had been expecting him.
"So, you're the one who survived," the leader of the group sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down the side of his face, marking him as a veteran of many battles. "Your grandfather put up quite a fight, but in the end, it didn't matter. And now, it's your turn."
Rael's grip on the Forsaken Blade tightened. The sword felt heavier in his hand, as if responding to the tension in the air. The darkness within it pulsed, eager for blood. But Rael knew he couldn't afford to lose control, not now.
"What do you want?" Rael demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why did you come after my grandfather? What do you know about me?"
The scarred man chuckled darkly. "So many questions for a dead boy. But I suppose it doesn't hurt to give you a little insight before we finish this. Your grandfather was hiding something—something valuable. We were sent to retrieve it. But imagine our surprise when we found out he had a grandson who wasn't supposed to exist. That changes things."
Rael's mind raced. What could his grandfather have been hiding that would draw such ruthless men to their doorstep? And what did they mean by saying he wasn't supposed to exist?
"You don't know anything about me," Rael shot back, his eyes narrowing. "And you won't live long enough to find out."
The scarred man's grin widened, and he drew his sword, the metal gleaming ominously in the dim light. "Bold words for a boy. Let's see if you can back them up."
Without another word, the three men lunged at Rael, their movements swift and coordinated. They were skilled, each strike aimed to kill, but Rael was faster. The trials had honed his reflexes, and he sidestepped the first attack with ease, bringing the Forsaken Blade up to block the second.
The clash of steel against the dark blade sent a shockwave through Rael's arm, but he held firm, pushing back with all his strength. The third man circled around, trying to flank him, but Rael anticipated the move. He spun, using the momentum to drive the Forsaken Blade into the man's side.
The man's eyes widened in shock as the blade pierced through his armor, the dark energy of the sword seeping into his body. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless, as the Forsaken Blade drank in his essence. Rael felt a surge of power, but with it came a wave of nausea. The blade's hunger was insatiable, and it reveled in the kill.
The scarred man cursed, clearly not expecting one of his comrades to fall so quickly. He and the remaining man regrouped, their expressions now wary. They were taking Rael more seriously, but they hadn't given up.
"You've got some fight in you," the leader growled, wiping the blood from his sword. "But you're just a boy with a cursed blade. That sword will devour you before you ever have a chance to master it."
Rael didn't respond. He couldn't afford to get distracted by their taunts. The Forsaken Blade thrummed in his hand, urging him to strike, to give in to its power. But Rael knew that if he let it consume him, he would lose himself completely.
The two men attacked again, this time more cautious, more deliberate. Rael was forced on the defensive, parrying blow after blow, the force of their strikes pushing him back. He could feel the strain on his body, the fatigue setting in, but he refused to give up.
As they pressed their advantage, Rael realized that he needed to end this quickly. The Forsaken Blade was powerful, but it was also dangerous. The longer the fight dragged on, the greater the risk of him losing control.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Rael feigned a stumble, drawing the scarred man in for what he thought would be the finishing blow. But at the last moment, Rael dropped to one knee, slashing upward with the Forsaken Blade.
The blade sliced through the man's torso, the dark energy flaring as it consumed him. The leader's eyes widened in shock and pain, and then he collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.
The last remaining man hesitated, fear evident in his eyes. He had seen what the Forsaken Blade could do, and he knew he was outmatched. But before he could make a move to escape, Rael was upon him, the blade cutting through the air with lethal precision.
The final man fell, his life extinguished by the cursed sword. Rael stood over the bodies, breathing heavily, the weight of what he had done pressing down on him. The Forsaken Blade hummed with satisfaction, but Rael felt hollow. The blade had taken lives before, during his trials, but this was different. These were men, not monsters, and he had killed them.
But there was no time for regret. Rael knew that this was just the beginning. The letter from his grandfather, the secrets about his parents, and the enemies who had destroyed his home—everything was leading him to the Sword Academy.
Rael wiped the blood from the Forsaken Blade and sheathed it, his resolve hardening. He couldn't afford to hesitate or doubt himself. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but he had no choice. He would go to the Sword Academy, discover the truth, and face whatever challenges awaited him.
With one last look at the ruins of his home, Rael turned and disappeared into the forest, heading towards the academy where his destiny awaited.