Dawn crept over the eastern forests of Astrid like molten gold spilling through the mist. Daniel Bellhem's breath steamed in the chill morning air as he knelt in a clearing, muscles quivering and hands raw from gripping Vorrath.
The First Blade pulsed with life in his grasp—its red veins writhing faintly as if aware of the boy's exhaustion. Every strike he made fed it. Every misstep it remembered.
Daniel's jaw tightened. He had spent countless hours, days, and nights in this forest since taking the book from the ruins of his home. Each morning brought new torment: swinging his blade against the air, pushing his body beyond limits, testing his strength, resisting the darkness Vorrath whispered into his mind.
"Focus… control… don't let it own you," Daniel muttered, sweat and blood streaking down his face.
He swung again. Strike, parry, thrust. Each movement precise, honed through endless repetition. The First Blade tested him constantly, its hunger echoing the emptiness he had felt all those years alone.
Feed on fear. Feed on rage. Feed on the abyss within you.
Daniel had almost surrendered to it once, during a practice run where his frustration and grief had bubbled over—but not today. Not here.
He growled, gathering every ounce of willpower. He raised Vorrath high above his head and brought it down in a devastating arc. The mist parted with a hiss, and the forest seemed to shiver under the force.
Better, he whispered to himself. I am stronger than my fear.
THE DISTANT SCREAM
A sudden scream pierced the fog—a high, panicked, unmistakably human voice.
Daniel froze, every instinct flaring. The scream came from the east. His pulse skyrocketed.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the sound, leaping over roots, rocks, and fallen branches. The forest blurred around him. His mind raced through possibilities: bandits, rogue knights, monsters…
He came upon a clearing—and froze.
A noble carriage lay overturned, wheels shattered, horses either dead or writhing in agony. A beast-fiend crouched atop the wreckage, clawing at the carriage door. Its red eyes burned like molten coals, saliva dripping black and foaming.
Inside, muffled screams.
Daniel's hands tightened on Vorrath. His heart thundered.
He leapt forward. "Step away from her!"
The beast snarled, turning its head. It lunged with inhuman speed, claws extended. Daniel rolled sideways, barely dodging. The First Blade vibrated, pulling at him, demanding violence.
Daniel gritted his teeth. "I don't serve you! I serve her!"
A single swing cut through the monster's shoulder. It screeched, staggering backward. Daniel didn't hesitate. Strike after strike, he pressed, each cut precise, each move careful yet lethal. Within moments, the beast lay dead, claws twitching one last time.
Daniel gasped for breath. Sweat and blood coated his body.
MIMI
He approached the carriage. Inside sat a girl, roughly his age, her silvery hair disheveled, dress torn and stained with dirt. Her emerald eyes locked onto his, wide with relief and awe.
"You… you saved me," she whispered. Her voice trembled but carried strength beneath the fear.
Daniel swallowed. "Are you hurt?"
"I—no… just shaken," she said softly. She noticed his blood-streaked face and the way he was panting, exhausted from the battle. "My name… I am Mimi of House Elvaren."
He blinked. House Elvaren. A noble lineage. His own survival instincts and recent pain blurred into something else—a warmth he hadn't felt since his mother's death.
"You're… brave," she said, stepping closer. She hesitated, then reached out and brushed the blood from his cheek. Her fingers were soft, cool. Gentle.
Daniel's chest tightened. He tried to look away but couldn't. Her eyes… they burned into him, leaving a mark he didn't know he wanted.
She smiled faintly. "I want you to have this."
She handed him a small handkerchief, white silk embroidered with a golden crest—the symbol of her noble house. Its scent was faintly floral, calming, almost intoxicating.
"If ever we meet again… you can find me with this," she whispered.
Daniel's heart thudded. He accepted it with shaking hands. "I… I'll keep it safe."
She smiled, bowing lightly before being helped up by nearby passing travelers. Daniel watched until she vanished into the misty road, leaving him alone once more.
RETURN TO TRAINING
The forest was quiet again.
Daniel knelt by a stream, letting the cold water wash the blood and sweat from his arms. He opened the Book of Ten Swords. The pages glowed faintly, revealing words that hadn't appeared before:
"Fear is fire, rage is steel. Only mastery over both grants strength. Only through struggle shall the next blade awaken."
He frowned.
Next blade?
The Devil-Demon Fire Fruit. He remembered the whispers, the faint glowing visions the book had given him weeks ago. Somewhere in the forest, he would find it—an essence of power capable of advancing his soul and opening the next blade.
But first, he had to survive. First, he had to sharpen Vorrath.
HUNTING MONSTERS
He moved deeper into the forest, testing his mastery. The First Blade demanded blood, feeding on his control, his restraint, and his fury. Demon wolves with three burning eyes emerged, twisted horned apes, and corrupted boars. Each one fell beneath his blade. Each battle forced him to confront the darkness within himself, the hunger of the First Blade.
Hours passed. The sun dipped below the horizon. Night brought new dangers. The forest seemed alive with whispers, shadows, and glowing red eyes that blinked from the distance.
Daniel smiled grimly. "Come at me," he muttered.
A shadow lunged. A horned ape with flames licking its limbs. Daniel dodged, swung, and felt the familiar thrill—the push and pull of mastery. Each swing, each kill, each moment of life or death made him stronger.
Finally, he paused by a clearing, heart pounding, and caught sight of a tree unlike any other. Its bark was charred black, but its branches glowed faintly red. Hanging at the center was a single fruit, pulsating like molten fire: the Devil-Demon Fire Fruit.
Daniel's pulse quickened. He stepped forward—but shadows shifted. Multiple fiends stirred, drawn to the fruit's power.
He clenched Vorrath.
"Then fight I shall," he said.
He raised the First Blade high, feeling it vibrate with anticipation.
Soon… soon, I'll master you. And the next blade…
Daniel smiled. For the first time in years, he felt alive. Not just surviving. Thriving. Burning with purpose.
The forest whispered around him. The hunt, the pain, the fire—this was only the beginning.