Silence.
That was the first thing Cane noticed.
Then the darkness.
Not the kind of darkness you experience when you close your eyes—but an overwhelming void that wrapped around everything. There was no sense of ground or ceiling, no echo when he breathed, no wind against his skin. Just... nothing.
He tried to sit up, and his back ached.
"…Am I dead?" he mumbled.
His voice didn't carry. It was swallowed by the weightless black, and a beat passed.
Then—
[Tch.]
Cane blinked. "System?"
[You're not dead. Congratulations on surviving a fall that should've turned your spine into paste.]
"…Thanks, I think."
He stood, shakily, hand gripping the familiar katana still sheathed at his side. "Where… exactly am I?"
Silence.
"System?"
[...]
"…You ignoring me now?"
[I'm not ignoring you. I don't know where we are either.]
That stopped him.
"You're serious?"
[Would I joke about being lost in a dimension that feels like the inside of a coffin?]
"…Maybe."
Cane sighed, rubbing his face.
"Well, if I'm not dead... I'm probably trapped in another nightmare. Great."
He looked around—though 'around' was a generous word. There were no landmarks, no walls, no points of reference. Just black. Yet his feet felt ground. Cold, hard, real. Like worn stone beneath his boots.
"…Guess I'll pick a direction."
And so, he walked.
The silence was maddening, a complete absence of sound. There were no echoes of his footsteps, no sound of his own breathing. The only noise left was the low hum of his own thoughts.
"Maybe this is some kind of test," he murmured. "Dungeon stuff, right? Secret trials and hidden loot?"
He didn't believe it.
Hours—or what felt like hours—passed. No light. No sound. No change. The void stayed exactly the same. Cane tried to measure his steps, to count distance. But even that began to slip from him.
His stomach growled.
He touched the sheath of his katana, grateful for its constant weight.
He had no bag. No supplies. That had been left behind when he jumped into the fight.
"Smart," he muttered. "Real smart, hero."
[What are you even doing?] the system finally asked.
"Walking."
[Toward what? You don't know where you are. You don't know what this place is. There is nothing here.]
"Maybe."
[So why keep going? Why not just sit? Give up? Wait for death like a sane person?]
Cane didn't answer immediately.
He paused, breathed in. Then pulled up his full status.
[Status]
Strength: F-
Endurance: F-
Agility: F-
Intelligence F-
Mana: F-
Mental: F-
Durability: F-
Charm: A
[Proficiency]
Katana Mastery : Level 2
[Talent]
I'm Crazy – Gives you a temporary stat boost if your behavior gets out of control. Warning: side effects include terrified allies, broken dignity, and long-term emotional damage.
Blade Snuggle Syndrome - Holding a katana for extended periods dramatically accelerates your proficiency gain. Recommended: eat, sleep, and bathe with it. Probably.
He chuckled bitterly. "Wow. Real flattering."
[You're literally walking toward nowhere.]
"I know."
[So why?]
Cane shrugged, his voice light. "No reason. Maybe I just like walking."
A heavy silence stretched between them. He stopped walking, and the air around them went still. Then, his tone shifted, becoming quieter and more honest.
"…Because if I stop now, that's it." He took a breath. Closed his eyes.
"I'm tired. I'm really tired. But if I stand still and do nothing, then there's no point in waking up at all. As long as I can walk as long as I can breathe I'll keep moving."
[…..]
[You sound like a motivational pamphlet.]
Cane let out a breath and smiled faintly.
"Yeah… this is just how I am." He glanced up into the endless dark.
"Sorry you got stuck with someone like me."
[...]
Cane didn't expect a reply. He kept walking, indifferent to whether the system had too much to process or not. He didn't care how long he was walking for; he just kept moving forward.
Until... he blinked.
Far ahead, there was a glow. Faint. Almost imagined. But definitely there.
He picked up pace.
The light grew—soft amber and gold, flickering like lanterns.
And then it came into view.
A structure. Not grand, but elegant. An old dojo, its wood dark with age, yet untouched by rot. The roof was curved in the eastern style, tiles mossed over. Paper lanterns lined the entrance, casting warm halos of light into the darkness.
Carved above the sliding doors was a single name:
Yashira.
Cane stared, chest rising slowly.
"Looks like... home?" he whispered.
He stepped forward, hand resting on the hilt of his katana.
"I don't know what's waiting in there."
He pushed the door open.
"But at least it's not nothing."
Inside, the dojo was dim, but not cold. Warm lanterns lined the walls in symmetrical formation, flickering gently with golden light. The floor was made of polished wood, so well-maintained it reflected the soft glow like a mirror. The scent of aged timber and faint incense filled the air, calming and nostalgic.
Traditional weapons were mounted neatly on the walls—katanas, wooden practice swords, scrolls bound in silk, and a single worn banner hanging above the far end. On it, a single symbol written in old script:
"Resolve."
Cane walked slowly, his boots tapping gently on the floor. It felt sacred here—quiet, but not empty.
In the center of the dojo, placed atop a tatami mat, was a low wooden table. On it sat a round, stone-colored orb that pulsed with a faint, ashen glow.
Cane tilted his head. "What's this?" he asked aloud. "Some kind of souvenir?"
[You idiot. That's a basic elemental orb to check your affinity.]
"…You could've told me that earlier."
[This is literally the first time you've touched one. How would I know to explain it?]
Cane grumbled but approached. He knelt, resting his hand on the surface of the orb.
It flared to life.
Pale green and bright violet light twisted within, spiraling and glowing outward from the center.
"…Wind and lightning?" Cane muttered. "Huh. I have two elements?"
He looked back at his status window.
"With my stats, this probably counts as average."
[Tch. You're luckier than you think.]
Cane raised a brow. "How rare is this, then?"
[Most people have only one element. Two's uncommon. Three? Rare. Four? Almost unheard of.]
Cane whistled. "What about five?"
[Only one recorded in history: Grand Magus Veltharion of Wesvalen, the Western Continent. Still alive—and basically a walking natural disaster.]
"…Sounds terrifying."
[Because he is.]
Cane leaned back, eyes still on the orb.
"Wait… you said something earlier. About scrolls that can teach advanced elements?"
[Yes. Elemental evolutions usually come from scrolls, rituals, or certain instructors. But you need a strong base. Some are combinations—like Storm, born from Wind and Lightning. Others, like Holy or Darkness, require devotion or forbidden rites.]
Cane let that sink in, a faint smile on his face. "Magic, huh... I really did end up in another world."
The thought was cut short as a voice echoed from ahead: "Your affinity aligns with Yashira."
Cane's eyes snapped forward.
A man stood at the far end of the dojo.
Draped in a flowing yukata of deep black and electric blue, his face was obscured—shrouded in thin, shifting mist. The only thing clear was the sword at his hip and the calm, powerful aura he radiated.
Cane instinctively stood, hand still near his blade.
"Yashira… like the name above the door?"
The figure nodded once. "You have what it takes to walk this path."
Cane swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment.
"This is it," he thought. "A chance to learn a sword style… maybe even carve out my own path."
He stepped forward. "What do I have to do?"
The figure didn't answer.
But a notification bloomed before Cane's eyes:
[New Mission: Defeat the Swordsman of Mist]
Reward: Unlock Yashira Style – Stage One
Cane exhaled slowly, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright then… let's begin." He drew his katana only halfway from its sheath, and in that same instant, the world flipped.
The dojo spun. The roof became the floor. The lanterns dangled upward. Reality twisted violently.
Cane blinked, confused his vision had turned sideways… no, it was low. Tilted.
Then he saw it his own body.
Lying motionless, blood seeping from the neck. His limbs didn't respond, no breath came.
Cane realized his head had been severed before he even saw the blade coming.
Not a sound. Not a flash. Just death.
Fast.
Cold.
Cruel.