The rhythmic echo of fists pounding against a punching bag reverberated throughout the bustling gym, mingling with the grunts of gym-goers hauling absurd weights and gasping from intense cardio. The source of the relentless punching drew attention—a young man in a baggy hoodie and sweatpants, his fists bandaged, with beads of sweat rolling from his forehead down his face. This was Malphas. Though his body was less thin, his face appeared fuller, his features more handsome than they had been.
Nearby, Caelen gripped the other side of the punching bag, steadying it. Malphas's fist collided with the bag over and over.
He grits his teeth, his focus is unwavering as he throws a combination of four punches, pausing only for two breaths before launching into another set. Malphas's punches were swift and sharp, though his movements seemed heavier than usual. Curious gym-goers stopped to watch, whispering about his endurance.
"How long has that kid been going at it?" a man asked.
"About two hours," someone else replied, their tone filled with admiration.
"Damn, the kid has insane stamina."
"No kidding. Fateweavers are a different breed," another added.
The punching continued, punctuated by the sound of Malphas's fists connecting with the bag. Caelen finally called it, signaling for Malphas to stop. Reluctantly, Malphas pulled back, panting as he leaned forward, his hands on his knees. Blood seeped through the bandages on his knuckles, staining the wrappings.
Caelen frowned, taking Malphas's wrist and inspecting the damage with a click of his tongue. "You keep pushing yourself too hard. Ever heard of self-restraint?"
Malphas, still catching his breath, took the towel Caelen offered and wiped his face. "Coming from you, that's rich." Malphas sneered "You're the one who gave me these weight bands," he raises one wrist to show the black, puffy band wrapped around it, the number "80" embroidered on each.
Caelen sighed. "And here I thought 80-pounders would be heavy enough for you. One of these days, not knowing when to stop is going to bite you back," he said, his usual playful tone replaced by a rare seriousness. His eyes met Malphas's for a moment, a hint of concern shining through.
Malphas shrugged as he started taking off his wristbands, breathing a sigh of relief as the weight was lifted. "I'll consider it," he muttered, feigning nonchalance.
"Not much coming from that tone" Caelen commented.
"Now, let's get your hands patched up, and I'll take you out to eat. Sound good?"
Malphas's eyes lit up at the mention of food, a little drool escaping from the corner of his mouth as he looked up, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah! Where to?"
"Easy there, kid," Caelen chuckled. "Save some energy for when we get there. And while we're at it, I'll give you a new lesson."
Malphas let out an exaggerated groan at the mention of a "lesson."
"Don't give me that attitude," Caelen said, feigning annoyance. "This one's about weapons."
At this, Malphas perked up, interest gleaming in his eyes. He hadn't been able to access his weapons since arriving here, and the chance to learn more about them sparked excitement in him. For a brief moment, his thoughts drifted to the Odachi of the Unwritten, the only weapon truly bound to him, a soulbinded relic.
Just the thought of it brought an inexplicable feeling of longing and sorrow, like a hollow pain in his chest.
Caelen noticed Malphas's darkened expression. "Alright, fine," he said, raising his voice to pull Malphas from his thoughts. "We'll go to your favorite place."
Malphas's face softened, a small, grateful smile breaking through. Caelen reached over and ruffled Malphas's hair, the warm moment lifting the boy's spirits.
---
Meanwhile, William walked along the bustling sidewalk, scrolling through his phone with a plastic bag of groceries in hand. He turned a corner, moving aside to let two gym-goers pass by, barely glancing at them as they exchanged casual words about food. But as they walked by, something caught his eye—a flash of familiar white hair, soft yet striking.
He froze, a wave of memories flooding back, recalling the last time he'd seen that face, frail and haunted, before blacking out. Quickly, he turned to get another look, and sure enough, it was Malphas, his silver eyes bright and lively, even if his expression stayed neutral.
'He looks… less like a girl now. Wait!' he scolded himself, shaking the thought away. 'What am I thinking!' He took a breath, piecing together the situation. 'Why is he here?! Has he been let out of the station!? Is it safe for him to be wandering around like this-'
For a moment William had a thought struck into his mind. "Does this mean he will attend the academy…"
He pictured Malphas's potential welcome. After all, the boy had already knocked out two kids they might hold grudges about. The worst part is that they are from noble families.
'He might be in for a rough time. And… my sister,' William frowned, thinking of her reaction to Malphas. 'She probably won't be thrilled about him after what happened. Not that I blame her.'
He looked back at his phone. 'I should stay out of it. No need to get involved.' As he walked on, he resisted the urge to glance back, determined to ignore the strange encounter.
---
Inside a bustling restaurant, waiters weaved through the crowd, juggling orders with steady hands. In a cozy booth, Malphas and Caelen were seated, Caelen jotting notes onto a piece of paper as Malphas took slow sips from his drink.
After a few minutes, Caelen flipped the paper around, revealing a detailed ranking system. "Alright, here it is—the hierarchy of Fateweaver weapons," he said, tapping the page.
Malphas raised an eyebrow. "Weapons can be ranked?"
"Yep," Caelen replied. "The difference between normal weapons and Fateweaver weapons is that a blacksmith didn't make these. They're forged from monster souls. When a powerful monster is slain, sometimes a piece of its spirit lingers, forming a weapon only a Fateweaver can wield."
Malphas studied the paper Caelen had handed him, detailing the ranks of Fateweaver weapons. Each level represented unique attributes and power potential, revealing the gradation between ordinary Fateweaver tools and divine armaments.
Caelen leaned over, pointing to the top of the page. "they're forged from the souls of slain creatures that Fateweavers defeat. They're conjured from thin air, taking shape as Fateweavers achieve certain feats in battle—meaning these weapons weren't meant to exist, but they do for a Fateweaver's mission." He adds on.
Malphas noted the various grades as Caelen continued to explain each one in detail.
---
1st Grade and 2nd Grade
Weapons at this level are basic, suitable for early combat but lacking in special abilities. Their power is functional but limited in scale, useful for honing one's skills but not for challenging high-level foes.
---
3rd Grade
At this rank, weapons begin to exhibit special abilities. These powers can be activated in one of two ways: either by chanting, which requires preparation but allows for powerful attacks, or through a quick activation for immediate effect. Weapons that need a chant have greater destructive capability, making them effective for monster hunting, while weapons with quick activation are often more practical for one-on-one combat scenarios.
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4th Grade
Fourth-grade weapons possess enhanced abilities compared to 3rd grade, making them even more powerful in battle. These weapons require skill to wield properly, as their abilities grow stronger and more complex, granting their user an upper hand in combat with more substantial effects.
---
5th Grade
Weapons of the 5th grade introduce an optional condition for enhancing their abilities: sacrifice. By giving something up—whether for a long duration or a single activation—the Fateweaver can amplify the weapon's destructive power to devastating levels. Each sacrifice type determines the weapon's use and impact, especially useful for high-stakes battles.
Malphas glanced at the paper thoughtfully, noting how his short sword seemed to align with the traits of a 5th-grade weapon.
---
Ascended Rank
These weapons require no sacrifice to access their full power. They are extremely rare, only obtainable through defeating a divine-rank creature. Ascended weapons hold the potential to level entire areas, granting unmatched destructive power whether wielded alone or by an Ascended Rank Fateweaver.
Malphas pondered if his own Odachi of the Unwritten might be an Ascended Rank weapon, though something told him it could surpass even that.
---
Divine Rank
The rarest and most potent of all Fateweaver weapons, Divine Rank weapons are said to be fragments of creation itself. They embody power beyond what deities can recreate, wielded by the most powerful Fateweaver in history—the one known as The One True King. Legends claim that even a deity would be brought to heel by these weapons, allowing their user to stand as a rival to the gods themselves.
Malphas felt a chill, suspecting that his Odachi might indeed hold this level of power. But two questions lingered: what exactly did it mean for an item to be soulbinded? And what were the fabled fragments of the X-blade?