Chapter 8 — The sword that remained

Arin and the others had run far by then. They were so far away that the battle behind them became nothing but smoke and distant echoes. But then a blinding white light tore through the sky. A moment later a shockwave slammed into them.

​The ground beneath their feet cracked apart while trees bent and dust exploded into the air. Everyone staggered from the force.

​Arin's heart dropped in his chest.

​"Let's go back… he might need help."

​None of them argued with him. They ran back as fast as they could. When they finally reached the battlefield, they froze in horror.

​The earth was scorched black and huge craters stretched across the field. Nothing remained of the two titans who had clashed there. There was nothing left except for two objects. One was a crystal blue sword half buried in the ground. The other was a shiny black armor plate that was cracked and still radiating a faint demonic warmth.

​It was Eldrin's sword and Kurishobe's armor.

​Arin fell to his knees as his vision blurred. His mind began to slip. He saw his family dying again in the flames and heard the screams. And now Eldrin was gone. He was the one who had saved him and the one who had trained him.

​Remembering everything that had happened to his family, he broke into despair. His friends grabbed him and pulled him back from the spiral that was consuming him. Hanase stepped forward with eyes that were hard yet trembling.

​"Get in the carriage. All of you. We're going back to the city."

​No one resisted her. Two days later they arrived at Klorade. The city gates were crowded because hundreds of adventurers had gathered there. They were preparing to march because they were worried for the party of Eldrin.

​The moment Arin's group appeared, people rushed to them with questions.

​"Where's sir Eldrin?" "Is he injured?" "Did he win?"

​Arin didn't speak a word. He simply lifted the sword. The moment the people saw the shining crystal blue blade, silence spread across the crowd. Neblaheim stepped forward and removed a dark, gleaming helmet from his bag. The guild officials approached them while looking tense.

​"Arin. May we… show the armor to the people? To boost morale?"

​Arin handed the armor over to them. But when they reached for Eldrin's sword, he stepped back while gripping it tightly. His eyes were empty except for a cold and burning anger.

​Eight months passed and Arin and his party didn't rest once. They hunted nonstop. Goblin settlements were wiped out in minutes and Orc Leaders were slain before they could even roar. Beasts that once threatened entire towns vanished overnight.

​Their growth was terrifying. In eight months, the weakest party in the city became the strongest force Klorade had seen in decades.

​One morning they packed their weapons and tightened their armor as they prepared their carriage. Arin looked at Eldrin's sword, which was still glowing faintly with blue light.

​"Master… watch us."

​They set out toward the Monster Realm. They were not going for a quest or for coin, but for revenge.