Bearer... the voice whispered again, this time directly behind him.
Pure instinct seized control of Rian's body. His hand shot up, fingers splayed, and something within him answered—a surge of energy that felt both foreign and intimately familiar. Reality bent, twisted, and a weapon materialized in his grip.
A sword. Sleek and impossibly sharp, forged from what looked like crystallized moonlight. Its blade hummed with power, the same blue-black energy that had marked his palm. The weight felt perfect in his hand, as natural as breathing.
He spun, the blade cutting through the air in a lethal arc, aimed directly at—
Hiron's eyes went wide. He threw himself backward, stumbling over his own feet, and the sword's edge passed mere inches from his throat. He hit the ground hard, scrambling away on his hands.
Wait! Stop! Hiron's voice cracked with panic.
The haze cleared from Rian's mind like fog burning away in sunlight. He stood frozen, the glowing blade still raised, his heart hammering against his ribs. What had he just done? He'd nearly killed his friend. His hand trembled.
Hiron... I—I didn't mean to— The words tangled in his throat.
Nova was between them in an instant, fire dancing across both her palms, her stance defensive. What the hell was that, Rian? Her gray eyes blazed with suspicion and concern in equal measure.
Rian looked down at the sword in his hand. The blade was beautiful in a terrifying way—translucent yet solid, carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and flow like water. He could feel it connected to him, an extension of his will made manifest.
I heard the voice again, he said quietly. Right behind me. I just... reacted. I didn't think. The sword just... appeared.
Hiron pulled himself to his feet, brushing dirt from his clothes. His hands were still shaking, but he approached carefully, his eyes fixed on the blade. That's not normal summoning, he said, his voice steadier now. Summoners call devils. They don't create weapons from nothing.
It's not nothing, Nova said, her analytical mind already working. She extinguished her flames and circled around to examine the sword from different angles, careful not to get too close. Look at the energy signature.The mark on your neck is glowing.
Rian turned the blade slowly, watching light play across its surface. The patterns etched into the metal—or whatever it was made of—seemed to tell a story he couldn't quite read. As he focused on it, he realized something else: the sword felt temporary. Like it was only here because he needed it, because he'd called for protection.
And just as that thought crystallized in his mind, the sword began to dissolve. The blade broke apart into countless motes of blue-black light that drifted upward like reverse rain, dissipating into nothing. Within seconds, his hand was empty, the weight gone as if it had never existed.
The three of them stood in silence, staring at Rian's empty palm.
So, Hiron said finally, you can create magical weapons that appear and disappear at will. That's... actually kind of incredible. And terrifying. Mostly terrifying when they're swinging at my neck.
I'm sorry, Rian said, meeting his friend's eyes. I really didn't mean to—
I know. Hiron managed a weak smile.
There is so much I can do.
The voice again. Rian's head snapped up, his entire body going rigid. This time it wasn't behind him—it was inside his head, resonating in the space where his own thoughts lived.
It's talking to me again, he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
What's it saying? Nova asked immediately, her hand moving instinctively toward her sealing papers.
It said... there's so much it can do. Rian touched his neck where the mark lay hidden beneath his skin. Whatever that crystal was, whatever it put inside me—it's still active. It's still... here.
They stood om the road in the forest, the night deepening around them. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howl.
Hiron broke the silence with a suggestion that sounded both practical and slightly desperate. We need answers. And I think I know where we can start.
Where? Rian asked.
Erwin Brook. Hiron's face lit up with the first genuine enthusiasm since the sword incident. He's the most skilled weaponsmith in all of Iron Root state.His hometown, Ubuyashiki Village, is in Iron Root.
Nova raised an eyebrow. A weaponsmith? How would he help with magical manifestations?
Because Erwin isn't just any smith, Hiron explained, his words coming faster now. He's studied ancient weapons for decades. Devil-forged blades, cursed armaments, legendary artifacts—if anyone would recognize that sword or know what kind of power could create it, it's him. Plus, he's worked with summoners before, helping them understand devil-created weapons.
It's only three days' travel by cart from here. We could be there by the end of the week. Get some real answers instead of just standing around being confused.
Nova considered this, her tactical mind weighing options. We were planning to start adventuring anyway. This gives us a destination and a purpose. She looked at Rian. And you clearly need to understand what's happening to you before that voice makes you do something worse than nearly decapitate Hiron.
Thanks for that imagery, Hiron muttered.
The memory of the sword's weight lingered like a phantom sensation. Answers. He needed them desperately. Alright. We go to Ubuyashiki Village. We find this Erwin Brook.
The decision made. The sun had fully set now, painting the sky in deep purples and blues.They go a little furthur and found a suitable spot just beyond the city—a small clearing surrounded by sparse trees, far enough from the main roads to avoid attention but close enough to remain safe.
From their travel packs—standard issue for new adventurers—they extracted compact tents. The fabric was treated with water-resistant coating and reinforced with light summoning wards to discourage minor devils and wild animals. Within twenty minutes, they had a small camp established: three tents arranged in a triangle with a cold fire pit in the center.
They decided against lighting a fire. Nova's flames could provide light if needed, and it was safer not to draw unnecessary attention after the day's events.
Should we set a watch rotation? Hiron asked, already yawning.
Nova shook her head. The wards on the tents should alert us to anything dangerous. And honestly, we all need the rest. Real rest.
Rian agreed, though he suspected sleep would be difficult. His mind was too full of questions, his body still thrumming with residual energy from the sword's manifestation.
They said their goodnights and retreated to their respective tents. Rian lay on his bedroll, staring up at the canvas ceiling, listening to the night sounds of the forest. Crickets chirped. Somewhere far off, an owl hooted. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.
The sounds were gentle, almost soothing. And despite everything, despite all his questions and fears, Rian felt his eyelids growing heavy. His breathing slowed. The world faded.
He slept deeply, dreamlessly, for the first time in days.
Morning came with the smell of dew and earth. Rian woke to sunlight filtering through the tent fabric, painting everything in warm amber tones. His body felt surprisingly refreshed, the exhaustion of yesterday's battles finally released.
They broke camp efficiently, packing their gear with the practiced motions of people who'd been through academy survival training. By the time the sun had fully risen above the tree line, they were walking back toward the town's commercial district which was 4km away.
They reach close enough.
The merchant quarter was already bustling with activity. Vendors called out their wares, the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat mixing with the less pleasant odors of livestock and unwashed bodies. They navigated through the crowds toward the transportation hub—a large square where various cart services advertised their routes.
Hiron led them to the main dispatch board, a massive wooden structure covered in posted notices and route schedules. His finger traced down the listings, searching for any cart heading toward Ubuyashiki Village.
His confident expression slowly faded.
What's wrong? Nova asked.
Hiron moved from one posting to another, his frown deepening. There's... nothing. No listings for Ubuyashiki Village.
A weathered man sitting on a nearby bench, clearly a veteran cart driver based on his worn leather gear and sun-damaged skin, overheard them. You looking for passage to Ubuyashiki? he called out.
Yes, Hiron said, relief flooding his voice. Do you know when the next cart—
There ain't one, son. The man spat to the side. Hasn't been for two months now.
Rian felt his stomach sink. Two months? Why?
The driver's expression darkened. Because the carts don't come back. Five different services tried running that route. Five drivers, five full carriages with passengers and goods. Every single one vanished. Not a trace. No reports, no survivors, nothing. Just gone.
Nova stepped forward, her voice sharp. And the authorities? The state government?
The man laughed, a bitter sound. Oh, we've complained. Multiple times. Sent formal reports to the Iron Root Governor's office. You know what we got back? A letter saying they'd 'investigate the matter.' That was five weeks ago. Haven't heard a thing since.
The village itself is fine, far as we know, the driver said, his tone softening slightly.But maybe something is really there.
What kind of something? Rian asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
The driver shrugged. Devils, most likely. Or a guild who seeks money. Could be both. Point is, no driver's willing to risk it anymore. The money ain't worth dying for.
Silence fell over their group.We need to get there, Hiron said quietly.
Nova nodded slowly. Then we rent a cart. Privately.
The driver overheard and barked another laugh. You got coin for that? Private cart rental for a three-day journey through dangerous territory? You're looking at ten times the normal passenger fare. Minimum.
They pooled their resources right there in the square. Between the three of them, combining their academy stipends, their examination completion bonuses, and what little personal funds they had, they could just barely afford it.
The driver directed them to a rental service on the edge of the district. The proprietor, a shrewd woman with calculating eyes, quoted them an astronomical price. They haggled for twenty minutes before settling on a rate that would leave them nearly broke but mobile.
By midday, they had secured a sturdy two-horse cart, provisioned with basic supplies and reinforced with minor protective wards. The horses were older but reliable, and the cart itself, while not luxurious, was well-maintained.
Hiron took the reins. Nova sat beside him, while Rian claimed the back, his eyes scanning the road behind them as they set off.
The highway heading northeast toward Ubuyashiki Village started wide and well-maintained, but Hiron had warned them it would change. For the first few hours, they passed other travelers, merchant caravans, and the occasional patrol of guards. The countryside rolled by in pleasant waves of farmland and scattered woods.
But as the afternoon wore on and they pushed deeper into the route, the traffic thinned. By the time the sun was beginning its descent toward evening, they hadn't seen another soul for over an hour.
The road had entered Blackwood Forest.
In a ground of Ubuyashiki Village, a man stood in a small clearing. Around him, fifteen figures waited in absolute silence. They wore dark clothing, practical and nondescript. Each was armed—swords, daggers, some with bows slung across their backs.
The man who stood before them was unremarkable in appearance: middle-aged, average height, wearing armour made of smooth iron,a metal which provides easy movement when used to make a armour with it.The way the fifteen stood, the way they held themselves with perfect discipline, spoke of a different truth. This was their commander.
He looked at each of them in turn, his expression calm, almost serene.
Tonight, he said, his voice quiet but carrying clearly in the still air, we start Operation Metal. You all know your positions. You all know the objective.
A moment of silence. Then, as one, all fifteen figures brought their right fists to their chests in salute. The gesture was precise, military, absolute.
The man nodded once. Go.
Without a word, the fifteen figures dispersed. They moved like shadows, spreading out in west, disappearing into a mine with barely a sound. Within seconds, the clearing was empty save for the man.
He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were beginning to emerge.
Soon, he murmured to himself. Very soon.
Then he too vanished, his form seeming to fold into the darkness itself.
The cart rumbled along the increasingly rough highway. Blackwood Forest loomed on either side, its trees ancient and massive, their trunks wider than the cart itself. The canopy overhead grew denser with each passing mile, blocking out more and more of the fading daylight.
It's getting darker, Hiron said, his voice tight with tension. His hands gripped the reins tighter than necessary.
How much further until we're through the forest? Rian asked from the back, his eyes never stopping their scan of the shadows between the trees.
According to the maps, we're about halfway through, Hiron replied. This is the densest section. It should start opening up in another hour or so.
Should, Nova repeated, her tone making it clear what she thought of that word.
She held up her right hand. Violet flames burst to life, hovering just above her palm. The fire cast dancing shadows across the road and illuminated the nearest trees in flickering orange and purple light. It was beautiful and unsettling in equal measure.
Better safe than sorry, she said. If something's out there, at least it'll know we're not helpless.
They continued forward, the only sounds the creaking of the cart, the steady clopping of horses' hooves, and the occasional call of a night bird. The fire in Nova's hand crackled softly, a small but defiant challenge to the darkness.
Minutes passed. Then ten minutes. Then twenty.
Nothing attacked. No devils emerged from the shadows. No bandits dropped from the trees.
Slowly, gradually, the forest began to thin. The trees grew smaller, more spaced out. The canopy opened, revealing a sky painted in the deep purple-blue of dusk. The last rays of sunlight streaked the horizon in brilliant orange and gold.
Maybe we got lucky, Hiron said, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders. Maybe whatever's been attacking the carts is somewhere else tonight.
Don't say that, Rian groaned. You'll jinx us.
I don't believe in jinxes, Hiron replied, but his voice had lost its confidence.
Nova extinguished her flames as more light returned to the road. The forest was still present on either side, but it had returned to the manageable, normal woods they'd seen earlier in the journey. The sense of oppressive danger had lifted.
We'll need to make camp soon, Nova said, glancing at the darkening sky. Traveling at night is asking for trouble, forest or no forest.
Agreed, Hiron said. Let's push for another hour, get fully clear of Blackwood, then find a good spot.
The cart rolled on into the approaching night, carrying three young adventurers deeper into Iron Root state, closer to a village that hadn't seen outside visitors in months, toward answers that awaited in a master weaponsmith's forge.