Durnath—the Land of Technology—was alive with steam-powered gears and glowing rune-cores. A realm of logic, order, and silence. But that silence shattered the moment Varek saw what Ryle laid before him.
The Hero's Sword.
Its radiant glow pulsed like a divine heartbeat, yet the very air around it darkened under Ryle's gaze.
"You… you got the Hero's Sword?" Varek stammered, stepping back. "This sword chooses its wielder. That's impossible—"
"I didn't ask for your thoughts." Ryle leaned closer, setting the blade on Varek's metal-forged table. "You're going to reforge it into dual blades."
Varek blinked. "That's—blasphemy! This is a sacred relic! What you're suggesting is—"
Ryle's shadow moved.
In a heartbeat, his glowing purple claws caressed the underside of Varek's chin. Not enough to wound—just enough to promise annihilation.
"If you talk," Ryle said softly, "your body won't be found."
Varek gulped.
"…Understood."
Ryle stepped back, folding his arms. Thea walked in, peeking around the workshop with curiosity, her eyes landing on mechanical limbs, mana-circuitry, and half-finished war machines. Her fingers brushed the edge of the Hero Sword, feeling its dormant weight.
Varek wiped sweat from his brow. "I'll call my best blacksmiths. This will take a few hours."
"It'll take one," Ryle said.
"It'll take one," Varek repeated with a nervous chuckle.
An hour later, the twin blades rested on a velvet-lined table.
Twinlight — A matching set of curved longswords, forged from the divine alloy of the Hero's Sword, each blade humming with holy energy. When brought together, they shimmered like a rising sun.
Ryle handed them to Thea. "Let's see if you're worthy."
She took them with a reverent touch, stepping outside the forge.
A boulder sat at the training field. Leftover from a construction site.
Thea took a stance. Her aura shimmered.
One swing.
CRACK.
The boulder split cleanly, as if sliced by moonlight.
"Whoa," Thea blinked. Then she clutched her chest. "Something's—"
Light bloomed from within her veins, golden tendrils glowing beneath her skin. Her eyes shimmered white for a moment.
"I… I feel it," she whispered. "The swords awakened my Light Magic."
Ryle gave a small nod. "About time."
Behind them, Varek whispered in awe. "That wasn't normal Light. That was the First Radiance—thought to be lost."
Ryle turned. "Forget what you saw."
"Already forgotten."
Later that evening, in Velbrath's capital, an emergency noble meeting was underway.
The Hero was missing. His entire party slaughtered. Rumors swirled—some said Ryo was dead, others claimed he had turned rogue. Nobles yelled, panicked, demanded answers.
Ryle sat in the corner beside Thea, sipping tea and barely hiding his yawn.
"This is so boring," he muttered. "They still think the Hero's important."
"You did throw him into the forest like garbage," Thea noted.
"True. But it was entertaining at least."
One noble stood. "We must consider a successor! If the Hero's gone, the sword—"
"—is no longer your concern," Ryle said, his voice slicing through the noise like a blade.
The room fell silent.
Thea kicked his shin under the table. "You're journalists, not executioners. Play nice."
Ryle rolled his eyes. "Fine."
The head of the council cleared his throat. "In more urgent news… multiple deaths have been reported in Cindralis. Strange, magical deaths."
Ryle's ears perked.
The noble continued. "Men… turn to bones in their sleep. Women swell until they rupture. It's horrifying. Entire districts are afraid to fall asleep."
Whispers filled the room.
"Curses?"
"Plague?"
"Demonic possession?"
Ryle stood, brushing off his coat. "We'll investigate."
One noble raised a brow. "You're volunteering?"
Ryle smiled. "It's either this or listen to more of your voices."
He and Thea exited the chamber moments later.
"You think this is connected to Blood Harvest?" Thea asked, strapping Twinlight to her back.
"Possibly," Ryle replied. "Or it's something new. Either way, I'm curious."
"Cindralis is far," Thea noted. "You up for flying?"
"Yup"