The next morning, I woke up feeling both physically rested and mentally drained. Edith's words still echoed in my mind, her presence lingering like a shadow in the corner of my thoughts. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything.
"Are you there?" I asked aloud, wondering if Edith would answer.
"Always," her soft voice responded almost instantly. It was like she was waiting for me to acknowledge her.
I sighed and sat up, glancing at the clock. I had some time before school started.
"Rowan," she said, her voice softer now, "what were your abilities in your past life?"
The question made me pause. Past life. The phrase felt heavy, stirring memories I'd long buried. In the clan of shape-shifters, we weren't defined solely by the ability to shift forms. Each of us had unique talents, legacies from lifetimes long forgotten. For me, it was the sight the ability to foresee the future, a gift that had shaped my path as the clan's seer.
"I was a seer," I replied, my voice quieter than before. "But I was trained in swordsmanship too. My father made sure of that."
Edith was silent for a moment, as if digesting my response. "That explains a lot," she finally said. "Okay, let's move on. I'll give you one free item. What will you choose?"
A glowing screen materialized before me, weapons of all kinds displayed in dazzling detail. My gaze flicked between a sleek magic wand and a sturdy, ancient-looking sword. Both called to me in different ways, their potential thrumming just beneath the surface.
"Can you help me decide?" I asked, feeling the weight of the decision.
Edith didn't hesitate. "I recommend the sword."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not the wand? What makes the sword better?"
"There's more to the sword than meets the eye," she explained. "The one I'm recommending is the Breathing Sword. It's unique it combines magic and swordsmanship, which makes it possible to cast spells and fight in close combat. And with your training, it's the perfect match. Trust me."
The Breathing Sword shimmered on the screen, glowing with a faint, pulsating light. I hesitated for only a moment before tapping it. Instantly, the sword materialized in my hand. It was heavy, solid, and humming with power.
"You can purchase more items later from the store with your earnings," Edith added as the store menu expanded before my eyes, displaying a dizzying array of weapons, potions, and tools.
"But first, I need to see your fighting skills. I'll assess your stats based on your performance."
Before I could respond, the world around me twisted, the familiar walls of my room warping into something else. I gasped as I hit the ground hard, my palms scraping against rough earth. The comfort of my bed was gone, replaced by the cold, unforgiving dirt of a battlefield.
I scrambled to my feet, disoriented, and saw five armed swordsmen standing in front of me, their faces emotionless, their weapons gleaming in the dim light. They were waiting waiting for me to make the first move.
Panic surged through me, but I gripped the Breathing Sword tighter, feeling its weight drag me down. My heart pounded in my chest. This was real. This was happening.
The first swordsman lunged toward me. I barely had time to react, raising my sword to block his strike. The impact sent a shockwave through my arms, nearly knocking the weapon from my grip. He was strong—stronger than I anticipated.
I grit my teeth, trying to focus through the haze of adrenaline. I pushed back, forcing his blade away and swung at him, aiming for his torso. But he blocked me easily, his sword clashing against mine with a loud clang. I staggered backward, struggling to hold onto the sword. It felt impossibly heavy.
He came at me again, but this time I was ready. With a quick sidestep, I kicked him in the groin. He let out a grunt, dropping to one knee. Without thinking, I drove my sword through his chest. The moment the blade pierced his flesh, he disintegrated into a cloud of ash, disappearing like smoke in the wind.
A notification popped up in front of me:
MC? What the hell is MC? I didn't have time to figure it out. My eyes widened as I felt a sharp, searing pain in my shoulder. I gasped, dropping to one knee as I glanced down to see the tip of a sword embedded in my flesh. The pain was blinding, hot and all-consuming. My attacker ripped the sword from my shoulder, lifting it again to strike.
Another notification appeared:
I was running on instinct now. Without thinking, I tapped the screen. A shimmering, translucent shield materialized around me just as the sword came down. It clanged off the barrier, the force rattling me inside. I collapsed, gasping for breath, the pain in my shoulder throbbing.
More notifications flooded my vision:
I didn't hesitate. I clicked on Heal, and instantly, the pain in my shoulder ebbed away, leaving only a dull throb. But another warning flashed in front of me:
Panic gripped me again. One minute? That wasn't enough time. The swordsmen were circling me like wolves, waiting for their moment. I knelt, clutching the hilt of the sword, trying to come up with a plan.
The moment the shield shattered, I lashed out. My sword sliced through the leg of the nearest swordsman, sending him crumbling to the ground. He disappeared into ash like the first. But the others didn't falter. They rushed me all at once.
I blocked the first strike, but the second came too quickly. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, and I dropped to the ground. A third sword sliced through my back, piercing my chest. I screamed as blood spilled from my mouth, soaking the ground beneath me.
Everything blurred. I was dying. I could feel it. The world around me dimmed, my vision tunneling. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the battlefield disappeared. I was back in my room, gasping for air.
I touched my chest. The pain it was no more, all the wind and blood stains vanished, I smiled happy I was alive.