A gentle morning breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the crisp scent of damp earth and fresh dew. Golden sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor. Somewhere in the distance, birds chirped—a soft, melodic symphony that blended with the whisper of swaying leaves.
Amidst this tranquil scene, I lay motionless, my black cloak sullied with dust and dried leaves.
A low groan escaped my lips.
My eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of violet eyes that caught the morning light. The world around me was a blur at first, an indistinct mess of shapes and colors, before gradually sharpening into focus. A dull ache spread through my body, my limbs stiff as though they hadn't moved in years.
With great effort, I pushed myself upright, shaking off the debris clinging to my clothes. My jet-black hair fell over my face, messy and tangled. Running a hand through it, I tried to dispel the lingering haze clouding my thoughts.
Something was wrong. My mind felt... empty. No memories. No past. Nothing.
"Who… am I?"
The hoarse whisper barely escaped my lips, yet the sound of my own voice sent a strange unease creeping into my chest. I grasped at the void in my mind, desperate for any lingering fragments of memory. But there was nothing.
Only an endless void remained.
Then, a soft blue glow flickered before me.
I froze.
A small, luminous orb hovered in the air, pulsing gently—almost like it had a heartbeat.
Then, a voice echoed from within the light.
"Azael."
I stiffened, my breath hitching. My gaze locked onto the floating light.
"…What?"
"That is your name," the voice repeated, calm yet resolute. "Azael."
Azael.
The name felt unfamiliar, yet something stirred deep within me at the sound of it. A strange sense of recognition, as if a missing piece had just fallen into place.
"Azael…" I echoed, testing the name on my tongue. "So… that's me?"
"Yes." The light pulsed. "I have been waiting for your awakening."
A cold shiver crawled down my spine.
"You… know me?"
"Indeed." The voice remained steady. "I am the Sword Spirit—your companion and guide. You may not remember, but we once fought side by side to protect this world."
I frowned.
"…I was a warrior?"
The Spirit hesitated before answering, "Not just a warrior. You… were a hero."
I blinked.
"…What?"
The blue light flickered slightly, as if choosing its words carefully.
"Long ago, there was a man named Arthur Isolde—the greatest hero of his time. He led the final battle against the Demon King and sealed him away, bringing peace to this world."
Something stirred within me at that name.
Arthur Isolde…
It didn't sound familiar, yet strangely, it didn't feel completely foreign either.
The Spirit's voice softened, carrying a weight that pressed against my chest.
"And you, Azael… you are his reincarnation."
Silence fell between us.
I stared at the glowing entity, trying to process the words.
"…You're joking." A dry chuckle escaped me, one filled with disbelief. "That's ridiculous."
But the Spirit remained unwavering.
"You may doubt it now, but the truth does not change. Arthur's soul has been reborn within you."
My heart pounded against my ribs.
This was absurd—like a tale spun by drunken storytellers.
"…If I was such a great hero, why don't I remember anything?"
"Because your soul was reborn without its past memories," the Spirit explained. "But your destiny remains unchanged. You were born for one purpose, Azael."
I swallowed. "…What purpose?"
The blue glow flickered.
"To stop the Demon King's resurrection."
A cold sensation crept down my spine.
"The… Demon King?"
"Yes." The Spirit's voice darkened. "When Arthur struck him down a hundred years ago, the Demon King swore he would return. His resurrection is inevitable—and it will happen in eight years."
I clenched my fists.
Eight years.
I didn't even know who I was, and now I was being told that the fate of the world rested on me?
"…And what am I supposed to do about that?" I muttered.
"You must prepare," the Spirit said. "You must regain your strength and reclaim your purpose. Only then can you face the Demon King when he returns."
A sharp exhale left me, frustration creeping into my voice.
"I… don't even know how to fight," I admitted, raking a hand through my hair. "You're telling me I'm supposed to save the world, but I can't even hold a sword properly?!"
The Spirit hummed.
"Hmm… That is true."
I shot it a glare. "That's all you have to say? 'That is true'?"
"I am merely confirming the facts."
I groaned.
"…You're annoying."
The blue light pulsed—almost like it was amused.
"You always said that to me," it mused, a trace of nostalgia in its voice. "Even in your past life."
I frowned but said nothing.
Somehow, even though this was our first conversation, it didn't feel like it.
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.
"So, what now?" I asked, exasperated.
"For now, we must leave this forest," the Spirit said. "There is much for you to learn, and many places you must go."
I remained silent for a moment before nodding slowly.
"…Alright."
I had no memories, no destination, and no real grasp of who I was—
But one thing was certain.
I couldn't stay here forever.
"Fine." I took a deep breath and pushed myself up, stretching my stiff limbs. "Let's go."
The Spirit pulsed warmly, almost as if smiling.
"You may not know how to wield a sword now, but in your past life, you were a the Hero who cut down the Demon King with a blade. Our journey begins anew."
And with that, I took my first step into the unknown.