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Rocky gazed at the Sword of the Wise King, its surface shimmering like half-formed crystal before him.
He raised his hand and grasped the hilt. Slowly, the blade regained its solid form, shedding the strange, semi-solid state it had just been in.
The sensation was odd. Rocky hadn't developed this ability. So why did the sword change inexplicably?
The death of the man in white weighed on his mind as well. Rocky hadn't noticed any wounds on him, yet blood pooled around the corpse.
Kneeling beside the body, Rocky tore the white suit open at the back.
When he finally saw the source of the bleeding, his eyes narrowed in disbelief.
The wound looked like it had been pierced by a blade, but instead of a clean cut, countless minuscule punctures riddled the flesh. The injuries resembled needle-like perforations, destroying the man's organs, muscles, and blood vessels in an instant.
A blade didn't just stab him. It shredded him from the inside.
"I didn't expect these materialized weapons to work like this…" Rocky muttered under his breath.
It was an unexpected but welcome discovery.
On second thought, it wasn't entirely surprising. His thoughts must have subconsciously shaped the weapon's abilities during its development.
Sometimes, abilities manifested without conscious effort. As Rocky's strength grew and his understanding of Nen deepened, latent abilities might naturally surface. Others, however, could remain dormant forever. Nen was unpredictable that way.
Rocky lifted his hand and directed the sword, now shimmering in its crystal-like state, to float into the air.
*Whoosh!*
The blade shot forward, faster and stronger than before.
The strain on his Nen, however, was palpable. Maintaining the weapon in this state consumed far more energy than usual.
But the results were undeniable—its speed had tripled.
"This form… I'll call it the Ethereal Phantom Sword."
A new spark of excitement ignited in Rocky's chest. If his weapons could maintain this state consistently, then his long-held goal might not be far off.
*One day… I'll develop the real Phantom Sword—controlling thirteen weapons simultaneously to unleash relentless attacks from afar.*
There'd be no need to close the distance between himself and his enemies. The mere thought of cutting down adversaries from a safe distance thrilled him.
But for that, Rocky needed more than just powerful abilities.
He needed a nen beast.
Back when the men in white had pursued the Kuruta clan, Rocky had regretted not developing such a skill. A Nen beast could have stopped the attackers, freeing him from being held down by a single opponent.
His thoughts turned inward.
*To do this… I need more Nen.*
No matter how advanced his abilities became, without the raw energy to sustain them, they'd be useless after one or two uses.
True strength lay in transforming finishing moves into standard attacks.
Rocky tightened his grip on the Sword of the Wise King.
In less than thirty seconds, he caught up with the remaining enemies.
No markings were necessary this time.
Rocky hurled the Phantom Sword forward. With a crystalline flash, one of the Nen users crumpled before he could react.
A cry of pain echoed through the forest as the blade shattered into floating shards of light.
The others turned in alarm.
A white glimmer flickered through the trees.
Each time it appeared, faint shards of crystal drifted in the air. And each time, someone screamed before falling lifelessly to the ground.
Within moments, only one man remained.
He froze, staring at the distant figures of the Kuruta people ahead.
But thoughts of completing his mission vanished.
He turned and bolted into the forest, desperate to escape.
*Swish!*
Rocky landed ten meters ahead of him, perched on a tree branch, the bloodstained Sword of the Wise King gleaming in his hand.
"The line between hunter and prey… can shift in an instant."
Rocky's voice was calm as he passed by the man. A heartbeat later, his blade pierced the man's chest.
As the last enemy crumpled to the ground, Rocky stared at his sword.
*I'm getting too used to this.*
Killing came too easily—perhaps as natural as his talent for Nen.
After pausing to catch his breath, Rocky pressed on, sprinting toward Piro and the others.
At the port, Piro and the surviving Kuruta stood by the only ship docked at the edge of town.
Piro glanced nervously at the forest, searching for any sign of Rocky.
"Everyone, hurry!" he urged, guiding his people toward the ship.
The vessel was a simple sailboat—evidence of how remote and disconnected this town was from the outside world.
Rocky had told them to escape by sea. But now, as Piro stood at the dock, a new problem presented itself.
They had no money.
Would the captain even let them board?
As they approached, the captain appeared on the deck.
"You lot… get on," he called out, waving them forward.
Piro hesitated. "I… I have no money."
His unsteady pronunciation of the outside world's language was thick with nerves.
But the captain only laughed. "It's fine. Your friend already paid for you."
"What?" Pyro blinked in confusion. "Who?"
The captain frowned. "A man named Haizo. He told me to wait. If people dressed like him showed up, I was to take them aboard."
"If no one came… well, that's not my problem."
*Haizo…*
Pyro's eyes widened. Haizo had left the village days ago with ten other Kuruta tribesmen.
When the attack came, the chief had signaled Haizo to flee.
Apparently, he had arranged this before leaving.
Piro smiled with relief.
"Everyone, get on board!"
As Piro herded the others, he glanced one last time at the forest.
*Rocky… hurry.*
Moments later, Rocky burst from the treeline, sprinting full-speed toward the dock.
"Rocky!" Piro shouted, signaling the captain to prepare for departure.
As Rocky climbed aboard, Piro's eyes trailed over the blood on his clothes.
He said nothing, but the look on his face made it clear—he knew what Rocky had done.
"Without you… we wouldn't have made it," Piro said quietly.
Rocky grinned. "It's nothing. They were weak."
The boat drifted from the shore.
Rocky's eyes narrowed as a black car appeared along the dirt road in the distance.
Even from afar, he recognized the figures stepping out.
*The Phantom Troupe…*
Had they hesitated just a little longer, the Troupe might have caught them.
"Hey," the captain called. "Where to? You two were in such a rush, but you haven't told me your destination."
Pyro and Rocky exchanged glances.
Neither had any idea.
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