Rin's expression shifted into one of serious challenge as he questioned Darion about these mysterious weapons. Everyone fell completely silent, waiting for Darion's answer. Rin's features were stern, as though he were trying to pierce the hidden lines of these weapons' history. He said in a sharp tone, "Do you remember what they are or how you first obtained them?"
Darion placed his hand on his chin, as if diving into the embrace of distant memories. He turned to Rin with a look full of longing and turmoil, then drew a deep breath and began to recount his story in a low voice that occasionally rose:
> "In truth, it never occurred to me since I awoke to ask about the nature of this power. All I recall from those distant memories is that I have been fighting with it since time immemorial. I don't remember how I acquired it or its true background. I feel as though it is part of me wherever I go, always present with me, like a shadow that never leaves its owner. That is all I remember… like a missing piece from an ancient puzzle."
Rin glanced at Oran, Leon, and Eirenor, exchanging looks that carried a hidden message: this outcome was expected. Then he spoke again:
> "As I suspected, there are hidden forces that have tampered with human memories from ancient times until now. These weapons—and perhaps those who wield them—are part of this great trap."
The knights exchanged glances before Darion stepped forward and added:
> "If we knew the origin of these infernal weapons or the method of their forging, we might be able to restore peace once more and eradicate these demonic creatures forever. In any case, do any of you have additional information?"
After a moment's hesitation, Oran pulled an old, dust-covered book from his satchel. Its pages were filled with letters and words understood only by those of the ancient era, when the world spoke two languages—one of which has since vanished, its memory erased from history's records. Oran opened the book with care, as if handling a rare relic of a forgotten past, and said:
> "We have nothing left to conceal from you except this ancient book, which speaks of the Legends of the Sky Sword. I believe you all know something about it."
Darion laughed lightly in mockery, then replied:
> "Who does not know the legend of the one who saved humanity from the brink of collapse and rebuilt human civilization, founding a power that swept across the world in the blood of these demonic creatures?"
Oran turned to him and said:
> "Yes, you are right. I have heard much of his glories, but fate chose that my eyes never witness that era, and I know no more."
Rin interrupted firmly:
> "It did not end there, and his story is not yet complete. It has been a long time since I read the first chapters of this book. Perhaps we will find important information we have overlooked."
Leon and Eirenor both sprang up in agreement:
> "Exactly, Oran—you haven't read it to us in ages, and now, with free time and everyone gathered, there's no better moment than this."
Oran paused, then placed his finger on the first line of Chapter Two, Part Two of Legends of the Sky Sword, and began to read in a voice trembling from the weight of time and the beauty of the words:
---
Chapter Two – Part Two of Legends of the Sky Sword
> "After the Sky Sword exacted his revenge on Kaden, his heart turned to a noble mission: to cleanse this corrupt world. Day and night he defended the city of Arian from the cruelty of its tyrannical ruler. The city knew peace only by virtue of his tireless efforts and thanks to his companions—both trainees and graduates of Raven's private swordsmanship academy.
"In every moment of leisure, the Sky Sword would visit his home to check on his brothers and his aunt, sharing lunch and dinner with them, as though he wished to keep the fragrance of his humanity glowing. At times he also visited the old man who had sheltered him in times of hardship, exchanging conversation and tending to his well-being, as though mercy were his highest calling.
"No one dared obstruct his path in the Desert of the West, and his name spread across the land like an endless stream of light. He embodied the symbol of the hero who battles corruption wherever it arises—at every corner and every path.
"Even when the fateful midday came, and the world stood on the brink of radical change. After purging Arian and the Desert of the West, he decided—with some of his friends—to journey to the Central Lands, where the vast green plains lay. There, on the eve of the catastrophe, they entered the plains.
"As he swam and frolicked with his friends in the Saize River, they experienced rare moments of joy and freedom. But that joy did not endure; the demonic hordes plunged humanity into a sea of blood in those very moments. The demonic portal appeared in broad daylight, dimming the sun and unleashing a destructive eclipse. Legions of demons poured forth beneath a darkened sky, scorching both green and barren lands.
"The Sky Sword lifted his gaze and beheld the blood-red dusk; all traces of happiness vanished from his face. One of his comrades cried out, 'We must hide at once—none of us will survive if we remain exposed!' They all rushed toward the cave where they had camped the night before.
"They crawled on their bellies like chameleons across the golden desert sands, hiding among small, dense shrubs until they reached the cave's mouth, where they breathed a collective sigh of relief. The Sky Sword stood at the entrance, surveying the danger, his face pale with worry and tension. He murmured, 'This is very bad… I must return immediately.'
"One of his comrades heard him and shouted, 'What nonsense are you babbling? Your calm is perilous in this situation!' The Sky Sword fell silent for a moment, then sat beside the wall, head bowed, as if he had lost the freedom of choice, trapped between his humane duty and his desire to confront evil directly.
"Meanwhile, in that same Desert of the West, the remnants of humanity endured under the anguished cries of tortured souls. The scent of blood mingled with wailing ghosts throughout the region; those still alive could not bear the screams, covering their ears and fleeing along unknown paths, awaiting fate's decree."
---
Oran lifted his head from the book, his eyes ablaze with curiosity. He turned to Rin, Darion, and the others and said:
> "Here the tale unfolds before us. What do you think? Do you find anything here that helps us understand the secret of these weapons and how they were made?"
A look of astonishment crossed everyone's faces, but their curiosity and eagerness to uncover the truth grew stronger than any fear. Their discussion rose around every word in the passage: How did the Sky Sword derive his power? What connection does the mysterious swordsmanship school have to this matter? And how should they interpret the timing of the demonic portal's appearance?
Thus, with interwoven questions, hesitant answers, and the echo of what they had read, the knights embarked on a new quest—their journey toward the dark heart of trut
h, where the secrets of these mysterious weapons and the tales of forgotten heroes lie hidden.