Lloyd opened his eyes slowly, the darkness around him dissolving into a strange light—like drifting stars floating in an endless void. Beneath his feet stretched a transparent ground, mirroring the starlit heavens above. The air was utterly still… no wind, no sound, only the eternal silence of the cosmos surrounding him.
The faint echo of his footsteps rippled beneath him, each step sinking him deeper into a dream that no longer felt like a dream.
"This place again… how many times must I see this?" he muttered, turning in circles, eyes scanning the endless expanse.
Before he could think further, a deep voice thundered across the void—rough yet calm, carrying an ancient majesty as if it were spoken by the stars themselves:
"Welcome back… crimson child."
Lloyd froze. He turned quickly, searching for the source, but saw no one.
"You again…? Who are you? Why do you bring me here every time?!"
A low, echoing laugh resonated from the horizon.
"I know you're confused by these dreams and summons… but they're necessary—because you are the son of my friend."
Lloyd's eyes widened, his voice trembling.
"F… Friend? What do you mean? Who was he?!"
"Hah… So your father never spoke of me."
From the shimmering void, spirals of light gathered, forming a towering figure wrapped in a dark cloak laced with faint crimson sparks. No face, no form—only two burning eyes of deep blue flame staring into him.
"Your father was a miracle… a phenomenon that redefined what strength meant. He wasn't merely a swordsman—he was the swordsman. The blades themselves bowed to him."
Lloyd swallowed hard, his heartbeat quickening.
"You knew my father? You were really… his friend?"
"More than that," the being replied, voice softening.
"We were brothers in sword and soul. We fought side by side in wars history has forgotten. But… he perished before finishing what he began."
The creature's tone fell heavy, draping the space in sorrow.
Lloyd clenched his fists, whispering, "My father… he forged swords. He dreamed of a blade that could rival the very light itself…"
The being gave a faint, knowing smile.
"Yes. That dream didn't die with him—it lives within you. His blood flows in your veins. His legacy beats in your heart. I am here to make you into what he could not become."
"My… training?" Lloyd asked, eyes wide.
"Precisely. For his sake, I will be your mentor, your guide, your shadow. I will teach you what no one else can. But first, you must understand your Three Pillars. Let us begin."
The silence broke as circles of light flared beneath Lloyd's feet, glowing with intricate sigils. Pillars of radiance surged upward, while the sky filled with runes from ages long past.
"The first pillar… Ki. It is your inner energy—the echo of your soul, the pulse of life itself. When mastered, it lets you hear the breath of the wind, sense the beating hearts of your enemies, and command your body with absolute precision. It is what separates ordinary warriors from those whose names are etched in legend."
Lloyd's heart ignited at the words, a fire stirring deep within.
"The second pillar… the Crimson Eye. A gift only you possess. It's not merely an eye that sees—but one that perceives the essence of all things. Yet beware… it devours those of weak will."
A faint red glow flickered behind his eyelids—his eyes pulsing with dormant power, awakening.
"And the third pillar… your father's sword. It is not a mere weapon—it is a key. Inside it lies a secret bound to me… and to this world. You'll understand when you reach the next stage of your journey."
"The next stage? What do you mean?!"
"I mean your next destination, son of the Sword's Pride. There, in the Dragon's Domain, awaits your first trial. Go there… and learn who you truly are."
The heavens trembled. Cracks split the mirror ground. Stars shattered like glass.
"Wait! Who are you really?!" Lloyd shouted, voice fading into chaos.
"I am the one who swore to guard your father's legacy… Now it's your turn to fulfill that oath."
The voice vanished. Light engulfed the world—pure, blinding white.
✦
Lloyd awoke with a gasp, drenched in sweat. His chest heaved as he sat on the cold stone floor, the black sword beside him, the letter still clenched in his trembling hand. The old cellar was silent, moonlight leaking through the cracks above.
"The Dragon's Domain…?" he whispered. Then his grip tightened on the sword, resolve burning in his eyes.
"Alright, Father… the man everyone feared—and admired. I'll finish what you started… even if it costs me my life."
He raised the blade, the crimson reflection in his eyes lighting the cellar like the spark of a new destiny.
✦ Chapter 14 — Oath Beneath the Tree of Memories ✦
The sky was gray, and the sun's weak rays struggled to pierce the heavy clouds. That morning, Lloyd packed what little he had left: some dried rations, his father's old cloak, and a faded photo—him, his mother, and his father together in better days. The picture was no longer a memory—it was a call from the past, reminding him who he was… and why he could never turn back.
Standing before the ruins of his home, he whispered softly, "There's still something I need to do… before I leave."
He slung his bag over his shoulder, gripping the black sword tightly. The cold wind howled, carrying the scent of ash and time. Every breath was tinged with loss.
✦
He crossed the dense forest separating the ruins from the mountain. The trees whispered as he passed, their rustling leaves murmuring tales of those who came before—dreamers who never returned. The climb grew steep and slick with mist, but his eyes shone with fierce purpose.
Through the fog, faint laughter echoed—his mother's gentle voice:
"Lloyd, don't wander too far, lunch is ready!"
Then his father's stern but warm tone:
"Didn't I tell you not to touch my sword? One day, you'll have your own—when you're worthy."
Lloyd halted. His grip on the sword trembled as his heart pounded. He looked up—and there it was.
A massive tree stood at the mountain's peak, its ancient trunk wide as a fortress. Its pink petals swayed in the wind, dancing like a storm of falling memories. Every drifting petal carried him back to the days when his family sat beneath it, laughing together.
He touched the trunk gently. Its warmth was almost human.
"You both sat here… and I ran around you, laughing. Now… it's all gone. All of it… in one night."
The image of fire flashed behind his eyes—screams, blood, blades cutting through everything he loved. Tears welled, one falling onto the soil below.
"I'll destroy them," he whispered, voice shaking. "Every last one of them. I swear… I will never stop until they pay."
But then, through the rustling leaves, came a whisper—not of the wind, but of something older.
{He who hates… becomes what he hates.}
Lloyd's eyes snapped open. He looked around, startled. "A voice again… or am I losing my mind?" He shook his head and pressed on.
✦
He sat before the tree and placed a small wooden box on the ground—engraved with old runes. Inside, he put the photo and a few of his mother's letters, her handwriting trembling but full of love. He stared at the image for a long time before brushing his thumb across it gently.
"You'll rest here now… until I can look at you again without pain."
He dug into the cold earth with his bare hands. Each handful of dirt felt heavier than the last—every motion a memory, every drop of sweat a vow. When he finished, he placed the box inside, covering it carefully.
Then, kneeling before the mound, he placed his hand upon it.
"I, Lloyd, son of the man called Pride of the Sword, swear before this tree, the wind, and the heavens—this box will remain sealed until my vengeance is complete. I will not return until I have ended those who defiled our name. I'll make my name a blade, my blood an oath, and my pain my fire. I'll ensure the world remembers our name… with honor that never fades."
The wind surged, scattering petals around him like a storm of vows. He stood, tears glimmering in his eyes, and turned away.
"Farewell… until the day I return victorious."
As he walked down the slope, the moonlight broke through the clouds, glinting against the black blade—its edge shimmering with a crimson hue, as if it had heard his vow.
Beneath the tree, the buried box pulsed faintly—red light leaking through the soil, like the past itself acknowledging his oath.
✦
The wind raced through a storm-gray sky, as though the world itself sensed an approaching reckoning.
But before his journey toward the Dragon's Domain could begin… Lloyd had one last place to visit—the bridge between his past and the storm that awaited him.
✦
Far away, in a distant kingdom where snow crowned rose-colored castles and crimson stars burned in the night sky, a little girl twirled in a royal garden. Her laughter rang like a melody, her long pink hair fluttering with every spin.
"Hehehe… You won't find me this time!" she giggled.
A maid's voice echoed through the garden, half-scolding, half-worried:
"Alice! A-liiiice! Where are you again?!"
Alice froze, then climbed swiftly up a blooming tree, hiding among the petals. She pressed a finger to her lips with a mischievous smile.
"You won't catch me this time, Marin. I'll win for sure!"
Then a calm voice came from behind her.
"Found you, little troublemaker."
Alice jumped in surprise, puffing her cheeks.
"Wha—?! No fair! You cheated!"
Marin laughed softly, hands on her hips.
"Excuses, excuses. You've still got a lot to learn before you can outsmart a full-grown vampire like me."
Alice crossed her arms, pouting adorably.
"Hmph! I'm a genius vampire! I was just… not ready yet!"
Marin chuckled again.
"Well, little genius, your father's calling for you."
Alice blinked, excitement lighting her crimson eyes.
"Father? Then it must be something nice! Maybe a gift!" she said cheerfully, her smile bright as dawn.
✦
Meanwhile, in the royal capital of the human kingdom—at the center of a vast war room lit by trembling candlelight—the king sat with Cain and the realm's greatest generals around a marble table. Maps sprawled across the walls, flames flickering with every breath of tension.
One minister slammed his hand on the table.
"Your Majesty, Lord Cain—the Sword Demon—I have a proposal! What if we reinforce the western trade cities? The demons will think we've weakened the others, but in truth, our scouts will be watching from the shadows. The moment they move—we strike!"
Cain smirked faintly.
"Bold… but predictable. The demons aren't fools anymore. If I were them, I'd launch a feint attack—draw our focus to the borders—and then strike straight at the capital… when we least expect it."
The room fell silent.
"Then what do you suggest, Sword Demon?" asked one general.
Cain twirled his silver ring idly.
"Two layers," he said quietly. "One visible… one hidden. The first will show strength, but the second will be buried deep—in hearts, not in maps. We need shadows, not soldiers. Units that answer not to orders… but to purpose."
The king leaned forward.
"You mean… a shadow war?"
Cain's eyes gleamed like steel.
"No, Your Majesty. A hunt in the dark. Let the enemy think they're the hunters—until they find their fangs caught in our trap."
Arguments erupted, but the king's voice silenced them all.
"So be it. From this moment… the war of blades ends. The war of minds begins."
And far beyond their walls, walking through rain-soaked mud, Lloyd pressed forward toward the capital—his reflection shimmering in the storm.
Lightning cracked across the sky, a promise of the tempest to come.
—End of Chapter 14 — "Oath Beneath the Tree of Memories." ✦