Yorknew, Sub-District 13.
This place smelled of death.
It was the garbage dump of the world. While the Mythos Clans lived in the sky palaces above, soaking in sunlight and ambrosia, humans lived down here like rats in the flooded ruins. The sky was always gray. The rain was always acidic. It burned the skin of anyone foolish enough to stand under it without a protective coat.
Splash! Splash!
Footsteps echoed through the dirty, neon-lit alleyway. A young man was running for his life.
His name was Ren.
He had no last name. In this world, last names were a privilege for those with divine blood. He had no money. He had nothing.
His clothes were rags, his boots were stolen from a dead soldier three sizes too big, and his stomach had been empty for two days.
But his eyes were sharp. They were not the eyes of a victim. They were the eyes of a survivor.
"Get him! Don't let that rat escape!"
Behind him, three monsters roared.
They were Shark-men low-ranking enforcers of the Poseidon Clan. Massive, seven-foot-tall creatures with blue scales, gills on their necks, and rows of razor-sharp teeth. They were the debt collectors of this district. And Ren owed them a lot.
Ren gritted his teeth as he sprinted. His lungs burned from the toxic air.
He was not a fighter. He was a scavenger. He dug through dangerous ruins to find scrap metal to sell. But today, he had stolen something precious.
A Level 2 Mana Core.
It was a small blue crystal, no bigger than a marble, but it was worth a fortune in the black market.
Enough to buy medicine for his dying sister, Maya.
"I can't stop," Ren told himself, forcing his legs to move faster. "If I stop, Maya dies tonight."
He took a sharp turn into a dark, partially submerged tunnel. The entrance was marked with a skull symbol.
The tunnel led to the Sunken Temple.
It was a forbidden zone. The air inside was thick with Miasma a magical poison that rotted human lungs in minutes. No scavenger dared to enter.
"He went into the temple?!" one Shark-man shouted, stopping at the entrance. His fins twitched nervously.
"Leave him! The Miasma will kill him in five minutes!"
"No!" the leader roared. He was bigger than the others, wielding a massive iron club spiked with sea urchin spines. "Boss Arlong wants his head! If we come back empty-handed, Arlong will eat us. We follow him!"
Ren stumbled into the main hall of the temple.
The water here was knee-deep and freezing cold. The air tasted like rust and old blood.
Ren fell to his knees, coughing violently. Blood came up with his cough. The poison was already entering his system.
His vision blurred. The temple was dark, lit only by faint bioluminescent moss on the crumbling pillars.
"Is this it?" he thought, clutching the Mana Core in his pocket. "Am I going to die here?"
Thud. Thud.
The Shark-men entered the hall. Their heavy footsteps splashed the water. They blocked the only exit.
They smiled, showing their jagged teeth. The leader stepped forward, swinging his iron club casually.
"End of the line, rat," the leader sneered. His voice sounded like grinding stones. "Hand over the Core, and I'll make your death quick. I might even leave your sister alone for a week."
Ren looked around desperately. There was no way out. He was cornered.
But then, his eyes landed on something in the center of the room.
On top of a pile of ancient, bleached whale bones, stood a sword.
It looked like trash.
It was covered in thick black rust and barnacles. It looked like a piece of scrap metal that would shatter if you touched it. A useless relic from a forgotten war.
But Ren felt a pull.
A strange vibration hummed in the air. A whisper, faint but undeniable, echoed in his ear.
"Take me."
It wasn't a thought. It was a command.
The Shark-man leader charged forward, raising his iron club high. "DIE!"
Ren screamed and lunged toward the altar.
He didn't care if the sword was rusty. He didn't care if it was useless. He needed a weapon. Anything!
He scrambled up the pile of bones. His hand grabbed the hilt of the rusty sword.
BOOM!
A shockwave exploded from the altar.
The water around Ren blasted outward in a violent ring.
The Shark-man leader was thrown back by an invisible force. He crashed into a stone pillar, cracking it.
"What the ?!"
Ren froze.
The sword in his hand... it was beating.
Like a heart.
Thump. Thump.
The thick rust on the blade began to crack.
Bright red light shined through the cracks, illuminating the dark temple with a bloody glow.
The smell of iron and blood filled the air, overpowering the stench of the poison.
[Finally... a wielder desperate enough to wake me.]
A deep voice echoed directly inside Ren's skull. It was cold, arrogant, and terrifying. It sounded like a king speaking to a peasant.
Ren trembled. He looked around, but there was no one else. "Who... who are you?"
[I am your only hope, boy.]
CRACK!
The rust shattered completely, exploding into black dust.
The blade revealed its true form.
It was not rusty iron. It was a magnificent, crystalline black greatsword. It was translucent like obsidian glass, but harder than diamond. A glowing red line ran down the center of the blade, pulsing with energy.
It hummed with power. It felt alive.
[My name is Zev. And I am thirsty.]
The Shark-men stared in horror. They could feel the killing intent rolling off the sword like waves of heat.
"That's... that's a Cursed Weapon!" one of the minions screamed. "Kill him! Kill him before he learns how to use it!"
Ren stood up.
The fear in his heart vanished.
The Miasma in his lungs didn't hurt anymore.
Instead, a burning rage took over. A hunger for violence that wasn't his own flooded his mind.
The sword felt heavy, but it felt right. Like an extension of his own arm.
[Swing me,] Zev commanded. [Cut them down. Show them their place.]
Ren looked at the Shark-man leader who was getting back on his feet.
Ren didn't know how to fight. He had never held a sword in his life.
But Zev guided his muscles. Zev corrected his stance.
Ren swung the sword.
Whoosh!
The blade moved faster than sound. It was a blur of black and red light.
The Shark-man leader raised his massive iron club to block. He laughed. "You think a glass sword can break this iron?!"
But his laugh died in his throat.
The crystalline blade sliced through the solid iron club like it was wet paper.
There was no resistance. No clang of metal against metal.
Just a soft hiss.
And it didn't stop there.
Slash!
The blade passed through the Shark-man's torso.
The monster stood still for a second, blinking in confusion.
Then, his top half slowly slid off his body.
Blood sprayed like a fountain, painting the temple walls red.
The organs spilled into the water with a sickening plop.
Thud.
The corpse hit the water.
The other two Shark-men screamed in pure terror. They had just watched their strongest fighter get bisected in one hit.
"Monster! He's a monster!"
They dropped their weapons and turned to run toward the exit.
[Do not let them leave,] Zev whispered. His voice was filled with sadistic pleasure. [No witnesses. Kill them all.]
Ren's body moved on its own.
He dashed forward.
One step. Two steps.
He was faster than a cheetah. The water splashed violently behind him.
He appeared behind the fleeing monsters instantly.
Slash! Slash!
Two heads flew into the air, spinning.
Their bodies ran for another step before collapsing into the dark water.
Silence returned to the temple.
Only the sound of dripping water remained.
Ren stood alone in the bloody water, breathing heavily.
The red glow of the sword illuminated the carnage.
He looked at the blade.
The red light pulsed, drinking the blood that coated it.
It felt... satisfied.
Suddenly, a ghostly figure materialized behind Ren.
It was a handsome man, tall and regal. He had golden eyes that glowed in the dark and blue scales shimmering on his neck. He floated in the air, looking down at Ren with a smirk.
[You are weak,] Zev said. His tone was mocking. [Your stance is terrible. Your swing is sloppy. You fight like a frightened child.]
Ren turned around, startled by the spirit. "You... you're the sword?"
Zev crossed his arms. [I am the soul of the blade. And you are my wielder... for now.]
He floated closer, inspecting Ren like a piece of meat.
[But you have guts. You didn't hesitate to kill. I like that.]
A blue holographic screen suddenly appeared in front of Ren's eyes.
It looked like a video game interface, but it felt dangerously real.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[Contract Established: The Abomination Blade]
[Host: Ren]
[Race: Human (Lowborn)]
[Soul Resonance: 1%]
[Status: WANTED BY THE GODS]
Ren stared at the screen.
"Wanted by the Gods?" he whispered.
Zev laughed. It was a cruel, dark sound.
[Of course. You are holding a weapon that can kill them. Do you think they will let you live?]
Ren looked at his trembling hands.
He should be scared. He should run. He should throw this cursed thing away and hide.
But then he touched his pocket. The Mana Core was still there.
He had the money for Maya's medicine.
He had power.
For the first time in his nineteen years of life, he wasn't prey. He wasn't a rat.
He was the predator.
Ren clenched his fist around the hilt.
He looked at the exit of the tunnel, where the rain was still pouring.
"I don't care about the Gods," Ren said coldly. His voice was steady now. "I don't care if the whole world hunts me."
He sheathed the massive crystal sword on his back, tying it with the rotten cloth.
"Let's go, Zev. My sister is waiting."
Zev grinned, fading back into the sword.
[Lead the way, Partner.]
The God of Death had arrived.
And his name was Ren.