A Glimpse of Fate
The evening's faint light cast long shadows across the mountain, but Vera's heart remained as heavy as the steel in her hand.
"An interesting duel…" she murmured, gripping the hilt of the Falling Blossom Sword. The weapon was a relic, its blade dark and enigmatic, etched with the constellations of the Thirty-Eight Heavenly Stars. Her father's legacy had been entrusted to her with this very sword and a weathered book of techniques. His final words echoed in her ears:
"You will fulfill my dream, Vera."
Memories of his rough, warm hands brushing her hair were still vivid. Every night, the images replayed in her dreams—her father kneeling, head severed, and her mother's charred body, crumbling like ash. The fire of vengeance burned in her chest, consuming her.
"This isn't interesting at all…" Vera whispered, biting her lower lip.