The soft yellow sunlight of morning streamed through the window. The candle on the table had completely melted, its wick now releasing nothing more than a thin trail of smoke.
The room was quiet, but in the middle of that silence, Raijin lay restlessly on the bed. His entire body was drenched in sweat, and his lips moved faintly as if he wanted to say something, but his voice remained trapped in his throat.
Suddenly—
"NOOO!"
Raijin screamed as he jolted upright.
"Sora… don't do this!"
Huff… huff… huff…
His breathing was rapid. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his eyes searched every corner of the room as if looking for someone. For a few moments, he could not even understand where he was.
Then his gaze fell upon the extinguished candle on the table.
He slowly tried to calm himself and closed his eyes.
"Calm down… It was just a dream…"
But it didn't feel like a dream.
It felt as though everything had happened to him only moments ago.
Raijin sat with his eyes closed for a while. The distinction between a dream and a memory was slowly disappearing for him. If it had only been a dream, then why could he hear Sora's voice so clearly? Why could he even remember the smell of the soil in that forest? The pressure of Lord's presence, Sora's face, and the pain visible in his eyes during their final moment—none of it felt like imagination.
It felt as though the door to a locked room inside his mind had opened for a few moments, only for someone to close it again.
He slowly rubbed the back of his neck. His skin was damp with sweat. His breathing had returned to normal, but his heartbeat was still fast.
He looked around the room.
Everything was in its place.
And yet, he still felt as though he had truly been standing in that forest only moments ago. His fingers were trembling slightly.
"Why was I so afraid…?"
The question escaped his lips, but there was no answer.
He hadn't been afraid of Lord.
He had been afraid of the moment when Sora turned around and looked at him.
As if he wanted to say something…
But couldn't.
Raijin closed his eyes again.
And the memories began playing before him.
He and Sora were standing before Lord.
The entity before them was so overwhelming that its mere presence made the air feel heavy. With a single attack, both of them had been knocked to the ground. None of their attacks had even managed to reach Lord, as though an invisible wall stood between them.
Then Sora stood up and moved forward.
There was pain on his face.
Agony in his voice.
"Good Bye, My Friend…"
"Run, Raijin!"
The next moment, Sora pushed Raijin away and threw himself directly in front of Lord's attack.
Raijin fell backward, and by the time he managed to get back up…
It was already over.
Raijin placed a hand over his chest.
He couldn't understand what hurt more about that memory—the fact that Sora had died, or the feeling that Sora had said something in his final moments whose meaning Raijin still couldn't understand.
"Good Bye, My Friend…"
It wasn't merely a farewell.
There was something else behind those words.
Some meaning his mind still couldn't grasp.
Raijin's gaze remained fixed outside the window for a while. Sora's face refused to leave his mind. The more he tried to understand the memory, the more confusing it became.
Why were his memories so incomplete?
Raijin closed his eyes.
"What were you hiding from me that day, Sora…?"
Slowly, anger filled his eyes. His fingers tightened, and he clenched his teeth so hard that the veins in his jaw became visible. His nails dug into his palm, and a single drop of blood fell onto the floor.
But at that exact moment, he suddenly stopped.
A faint warmth spread through his palm, and the pain slowly began to fade.
Raijin opened his hand and looked at it.
The wound had not completely healed, but beneath his skin, he could feel something—almost as if his body itself was trying to repair the injury.
"Mortal Realm…"
The words appeared in his mind.
But he didn't understand what they meant.
Raijin closed his palm again.
The power was inside his body, but he didn't understand it. Sometimes it awakened on its own. Sometimes his body healed its own wounds. And sometimes it felt as though even his own power was hiding something from him.
He got out of bed and walked toward the window. Pulling the curtain aside, he allowed the morning sunlight to spread throughout the room.
Outside, the city of Eldhavn had completely awakened. People were busy with their work, shops were opening, and the streets were filled with their usual activity—as if nothing had ever happened.
Raijin looked toward the city and clenched his fist.
"I promise, Sora… I will avenge you."
But this time, there was more than anger inside him.
For the first time, he understood that hatred alone would never be enough to stand before Lord.
Last time, he had been weak.
He had lost his friend and barely survived himself.
If he ever faced Lord again, there could be no room for defeat.
"I need to become stronger."
He remained by the window for a few moments.
Then suddenly—
Growl.
A faint sound came from his stomach.
Raijin looked down.
"Food first."
He looked toward the table.
There was food waiting for him.
The porridge had gone cold, but it was still fine to eat. A few slices of bread were placed beside it.
He pulled out the chair, sat down, and began eating.
The porridge was simple—lightly seasoned with salt and sweetness, with small pieces of vegetables mixed into it. The bread was still soft, and its slight sweetness went well with the porridge.
After a few bites, Raijin let out a relieved sigh.
"This is actually pretty good…"
For a while, he ate silently.
Then he suddenly realized something.
Over the past few days, this was the first time he had eaten without a fight, fear, or the need to run hanging over his head.
Even something as ordinary as eating felt strangely new to him.
After finishing the bowl, Raijin remained seated for a few moments, staring at the empty bowl on the table.
It was strange.
For so long, his mind had been focused on only one thing—
How do I survive?
A little while later, he got ready and left the room.
Before leaving, he picked up the broken sword resting beside the head of the bed.
His gaze remained fixed on its broken blade for a few moments.
Raijin held the sword in his hand.
This was the same sword he had fought countless battles with over the past few days. It wasn't strong, nor was it beautiful, but it had remained in his hand until the very end.
He ran his thumb across the broken edge.
"You've done everything you could…"
He looked at it quietly.
"Now it's my turn to find something better."
His next destination was clear—
The Adventure Guild.
But before going there, he needed a new sword.
Eldhavn's morning had fully come alive by now.
People from different places were busy with their own lives. Some were rushing around carrying supplies, some were opening their shops, and several Adventurers were laughing as they discussed their next quests.
Shops selling vegetables, fruits, and fresh meat lined both sides of the street.
The smell of roasted beef drifted through the air, while elsewhere vendors sold corn seasoned with salt and spices.
Amid all those sounds and smells, Raijin watched the people for a while.
No one knew who he was.
No one knew that only a few days ago, he had been lying near death in the forest.
And perhaps that was what he liked about this place.
Here, he was simply Raijin.
The burden of his past was still with him, but the city asked nothing from him except his name.
On the way, he stopped in front of the same weapon shop where he had bought his previous sword.
He looked at the broken sword in his hand, and suddenly, a different scene flashed before his eyes—
An old wooden counter.
The same smell of weapons.
And the voice of an old man.
"Want to know about Lord?"
Raijin blinked.
The scene disappeared.
He stood there silently for a few moments.
"Takashi…"
The name escaped his lips unconsciously.
Raijin closed his eyes.
Another scene tried to surface.
Takashi was saying something, but his voice wasn't clear.
Only a few words reached him—
"If you truly want to reach Lord…"
Then everything became blurred.
Raijin opened his eyes.
"Why can't I remember the rest…?"
He pressed a hand lightly against his head.
"It's as if someone deliberately sealed this part away."
The memory of that strange incident flashed through his mind for a moment, but he didn't try to grasp it.
Instead, he walked directly into the shop.
Inside, there was a mixture of oil and iron in the air. The constant clang-clang of hammers echoed throughout the shop, while various weapons hung from the walls.
Raijin placed his broken sword on the counter.
"This broke."
The shopkeeper picked it up and examined it carefully.
"This is one of the swords from my shop. How did it break?"
"It's yours. I ran into eight Toto Saurus… It broke during the fight."
The shopkeeper stared at him in surprise.
"Impressive. You're still alive after fighting that many Toto Saurus. I have to give you credit for your courage."
Raijin scratched his head.
"I was just lucky."
Then he asked,
"Can you show me a sword that won't break so easily?"
The shopkeeper laughed.
"You probably don't know this, kid, but most swords are practically the same in themselves. The real difference lies in the person wielding them. Practice, technique, and control over the sword—that's what determines how effective a weapon can be."
He paused for a moment before walking toward a small room at the back of the shop.
"But if you really want something different, I might have something."
He approached an old chest covered in a thick layer of dust.
He pulled out a set of keys, unlocked it, and took several swords out of the chest before placing them on the counter.
There were seven swords in total—
Red.
Black.
Yellow.
Blue.
Green.
Purple.
And white.
Raijin examined them one by one.
He didn't pick any of them up.
Instead, he judged them by their construction, length, and balance.
One sword had a good grip, but its balance leaned too heavily toward the blade. Another was lightweight, but its edge was too thin. The third looked strong, but its length seemed uncomfortable for Raijin's current fighting style.
The shopkeeper watched him carefully.
Raijin remained silent for a few moments.
"Old habit."
Then his gaze moved away from the other six swords and settled on the black one.
Among the seven, one sword was distinctly different.
Its shape wasn't straight like an ordinary sword.
Its blade curved slightly like a crescent moon, with an elegant curvature, but its design was far more unusual than that.
It had only one sharpened edge.
The other side had no cutting edge at all.
The grip was completely black, tightly wrapped in a rubber-like black material. At the bottom of the handle was a thin golden layer that gave off a faint gleam against the otherwise dark design.
The sheath was also deep black.
Dark red spots appeared across its surface at intervals.
They didn't look decorative.
At first glance, they resembled dried bloodstains.
Raijin's eyes remained fixed on the sword.
"Its core is made of Obsidian," the shopkeeper said. "Swords like this aren't easy to make. I only have a few left."
"Obsidian…"
Raijin repeated the word quietly.
He slowly reached toward the sword.
His fingers were only a few inches away from touching the grip when a faint wave of warmth suddenly passed through his body.
This sensation was different from before.
There was no pain.
No fear.
Only…
Recognition.
As if his body already knew the weapon.
Raijin frowned.
"Have I used this before…?"
He picked up the sword.
The moment it entered his hand, his fingers naturally settled into the correct position.
His wrist moved slightly, and his body immediately understood the sword's balance.
Raijin hadn't consciously instructed himself to do it.
His body already knew the angle at which the sword should be held.
He made a small horizontal movement.
Shhhk…
A faint sound sliced through the air.
Raijin stopped.
His eyes remained fixed on the sword.
"What was that…?"
It was the same strange sensation.
The sword didn't feel foreign in his hand.
The shopkeeper watched Raijin for a few moments.
Then his gaze shifted toward the sword.
"Strange…"
"What?"
The shopkeeper shook his head.
"Nothing."
He placed his fingers around the sword's grip, but immediately pulled his hand back.
"I just thought this sword might fit better in someone else's hands."
Raijin looked at him.
"Someone else's?"
The shopkeeper smiled.
"Forget it. Just an old man's useless rambling."
Raijin stared at the sword for a few moments.
That faint warmth rose inside him again.
But this time, he didn't ignore it.
"I want this one."
The shopkeeper held the sword out toward him.
"If you like it, take it."
Raijin looked at him in surprise.
"Money?"
The shopkeeper shook his head.
"These swords have been sitting here for years. People look at them and walk away. If you genuinely intend to use it, there's no need to pay."
He smiled slightly.
"Just come back to my shop whenever you need a weapon, arrows, a spear, or armor. You can bring your friends too."
Raijin let out a relieved breath.
"Deal."
He placed the sword inside its sheath and walked out of the shop.
Sunlight fell across his face.
He felt the weight of the new sword and stared at its sheath for a few moments.
Then he turned around once and looked back at the weapon shop.
He adjusted the sheath at his waist.
The weight of the new sword felt unfamiliar.
But strangely, there was greater stability in his steps than before.
Perhaps it wasn't because he had gained some new power.
Perhaps it was because, for the first time, he held a weapon that his body itself accepted.
Raijin's gaze lifted toward the direction of the Adventure Guild.
He stood there for a few moments.
The last time he had stood before Lord, he had lost his friend.
This time, he wasn't going merely for revenge.
He was going to reach a level where he would never again have to watch someone die before his eyes.
His fingers slowly tightened around the sword's grip.
Fate had saved him once.
Now, it was time for him to write his own fate.
And with that thought, Raijin continued walking toward the Adventure Guild.