Chapter 1 — The Phantom of Drakensport

Strength isn’t given.

It’s forged… like steel.”

Clang of Steel

CLANG!

CLANG!

CLANG!

The rhythmic hammering echoed through Old Man Ray’s forge, sending sparks across the soot-stained walls.

A black-hooded boy, face masked, worked the steel with precision beyond his years. His dark trousers tucked neatly into reinforced steel forearm guards, fingerless gloves gripping the hammer tight, while his hoodie’s shadow concealed his cold, emerald-green eyes.

Strapped horizontally across his lower back was a weapon no one else in Drakensport had ever seen before — a ninjatō.

Old Man Ray leaned against the wall, puffing on his pipe, watching closely.

“…Still don’t get it, brat,” he muttered, squinting. “Why forge a blade like that? Straight edge, no guard, blackened steel… It’s not a knight’s sword. Not even a hunter’s. What the hell is it?”

Kai paused, resting the hammer. “…It’s mine.”

Ray frowned, stepping closer to inspect the finished weapon. The steel shimmered faintly beneath the forge light, perfectly balanced, lightweight yet sturdy.

“…Damn,” Ray finally breathed out, scratching his beard. “Kid… I’ve been a smith for fifty years, and I’ve never seen a blade like this.”

Kai wiped the sweat from his brow. “…Books.”

“Books?”

“Designs. Metallurgy. Old forging techniques,” Kai said flatly, eyes fixed on the blade. “I read everything. Compared everything. There’s efficiency in simplicity.”

Ray snorted, half in disbelief, half in admiration. “Heh. Figures. Always found you sittin’ up in the loft, buried in those dusty scrolls after work. Thought you were just hidin’ from people.”

“…That too.”

Ray smirked but didn’t push further. He’d learned by now — Kai’s coldness wasn’t rudeness. It was survival.

Shadows of the Orphanage

It had been three years since his father, Garen Valenhart, the Iron Fang of Harnia, died defending the western borders.

Weeks later, his mother, Elara, remarried into nobility — abandoning him to the Saint Solenne Orphanage.

For four long years, Kai endured it. The tasteless food, the suffocating sermons, the whispers that he’d been “discarded.” He said nothing, felt nothing — at least on the surface. Inside, his walls grew higher, colder.

At age nine, he discovered Old Man Ray’s forge and begged to sweep the floors just to escape the orphanage. By eleven, he was forging knives. By thirteen, he could produce a blade so precise that even Ray — Drakensport’s most respected smith — was left speechless.

The orphanage had been his cage. The forge became his sanctuary. And one rain-soaked night, he left the orphanage behind, vanishing without a word.

Drakensport’s Phantom

The city of Drakensport was alive with noise — merchants shouting, hunters bargaining, wheels clattering over cobblestone. Amid the chaos, Kai Valenhart slipped through the streets like a shadow.

His hood, mask, and muted attire helped him disappear into crowds. The ninjatō across his lower back blended seamlessly into his silhouette.

People whispered:

“That’s the boy from Old Man Ray’s forge.”

“Never smiles. Always reading.”

“Says he knows more about forging than master smiths.”

Kai ignored them. Survival wasn’t built on words.

Venom in the Forest

That evening, returning from hunting boar near the Verdant Veil Forest, Kai heard shouting.

Two figures burst from the undergrowth — a towering man in black armor carrying a pale, silver-haired woman. Her leg was swollen, veins blackened.

A Dark Horned Snake bite.

“Kid!” the man barked. “Help us!”

Kai turned away. “…Not my problem.”

“She’ll die!”

He clenched his jaw, sighed, then muttered: “…Tch. Follow me.”

The Phantom Healer

He led them along a winding hunter’s path until they reached a silver-rooted tree. Drawing a kunai, Kai sliced into the bark, letting shimmering sap drip into a vial.

“This neutralizes the venom,” he said, voice flat. “Half on the wound, half to drink.”

Minutes later, the woman’s breathing steadied.

“You saved her,” the man said, relief heavy in his tone.

Kai shook his head. “The forest saved her. I just knew where to look.”

The woman grabbed his wrist weakly. “…Thank you…”

Kai’s cold eyes met hers briefly. “…Don’t thank me.”

Before they could say more, he was gone — swallowed by the shadows.

Names in Passing

The armored man glanced at his companion.

“You alright, Lira?”

She nodded faintly. “I’ll live… but Darius…” Her silver eyes narrowed. “That boy… he’s not ordinary.”

Darius stared into the trees where Kai vanished.

“No,” he said quietly. “He’s not.”

A Whisper in the Blade

Later that night, Kai set his finished ninjatō on the workbench, running his fingers lightly along its edge.

For an instant, the steel hummed — faint, like distant thunder.

Kai frowned beneath his hood. “…Tch. Hallucinating.”

But the Veil between worlds had stirred, ever so slightly.

End Of Chapter 1