"A warrior without a sword is still a warrior. But a warrior who has abandoned his blade? That is something else entirely."
The Abyssborn lunged.
It was fast, but not fast enough.
Rei sidestepped, the wind of its attack brushing against his coat as its claws raked through empty space. Ren was already moving.
Her sword flashed in the dim light, a sharp arc of silver that carved through the creature's side.
It didn't scream.
Didn't react the way something living should have.
Instead, it twisted—spine bending unnaturally—and lashed out again.
Rei's body moved on instinct. No blade. No weapon.
Just movement.
He ducked low, his foot sweeping across the dirt, catching the Abyssborn at its weakened side—throwing it off balance.
Ren took the opening.
Her sword sang through the air, piercing straight through the thing's chest.
A moment of silence.
Then—a wet, gurgling breath.
The creature spasmed, its elongated limbs jerking, dark veins pulsing beneath its half-decayed flesh.
Then, slowly—it stilled.
Ren exhaled, pulling her blade free.
The Abyssborn crumpled to the ground. Motionless. Lifeless.
But Rei didn't move.
His eyes were still locked onto it.
Not because it was still alive.
But because something was wrong.
He could feel it.
A presence. A pull.
Something deep, something buried—something waiting.
A faint whisper.
Not in the air. Not outside.
Inside.
Deep within his blood, his bones.
A memory. A weight.
Something long abandoned.
Something calling for him.
The Weight of a Forgotten Blade
Rei's breath slowed.
The world around him faded—not entirely, but just enough.
He was still in the forest. Still in the aftermath of battle.
But in his mind, he was somewhere else.
A shrine.
A blade.
Steel resting in a lacquered sheath, untouched by time, untouched by blood.
A sword that had once belonged to him.
No—a sword that had chosen him.
A blade not made by human hands, but by something older. Something deeper.
A sword that did not serve a master—only a wielder worthy of its weight.
He had left it behind.
Abandoned it when he had abandoned himself.
But it had never abandoned him.
And now—it was calling.
Rei's fingers twitched.
He exhaled, eyes dark, unreadable as he looked at his empty hands.
Not for long.
The sword was waiting.
And soon, he would have no choice but to answer.