Chapter Five The Guild of Blades and Shadows
[The Den of Wolves]
Kaito stepped through the Guild's massive wooden doors, and the world changed.
The air was a thick cocktail of sweat, oiled steel, and the sulfurous tang of magic. The hall was a living, breathing beast. Adventurers sparred in sand-filled pits, shouted over flagons of ale, and traded stories of narrow escapes.
He felt the weight of every gaze the moment he crossed the threshold. Whispers followed him like persistent shadows, clinging to his heels.
"The cursed child," someone muttered into their cup. "The one who survived the fire... they say he has no soul."
Kaito ignored it. Eyes forward. Breath rhythmic. Every muscle was a coiled spring, ready to trigger. Survival had taught him a vital lesson: move like a predator, but never let them see the claws until it's too late.
Garrick appeared beside him, his usual bottle replaced by a polished steel flask.
"Don't trip over your ego, kid," Garrick said, his eyes scanning the room for threats out of habit. "This isn't a forest. You make a mistake here, and people die. Or worse, they turn you into a cautionary tale."
Kaito nodded. He had trained for years to stand, to endure. But the Guild was a different forge, sharper, louder, and far more crowded.
[The Spark]
Lira was already there. She was in the center of the hall, her silver hair catching the flickering torchlight as she instructed a group of shivering initiates.
The moment their eyes met, the air seemed to thin.
She looked irritated, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line as she took in his new presence. Her gaze swept over his posture, noting the way his tunic pulled tight across his shoulders and the disciplined way he carried his weight.
He's grown again, she thought, her fingers twitching against her staff. Stronger than he has any right to be without a drop of mana.
Kaito felt the heat of her gaze. She notices, he realized. A subtle, unfamiliar warmth rose in his chest, but he shoved it down. He couldn't afford a distraction. Not yet.
[The Spar]
His first task: prove he wasn't a liability.
The sparring pit was a circle of packed dirt. His opponent was a tall boy named Valen, a recruit with a quick tongue and a spark of lightning magic dancing between his fingers.
"You're the cursed one, huh?" Valen smirked, twirling a practice blade. "Let's see if the rumors are true, or if you're just a hollow shell."
Kaito didn't speak. He didn't need to. He moved.
The fight was a blur of brutal efficiency. Every swing of Kaito's blade was a mathematical equation, every dodge was a calculated risk. He didn't fight like a trainee; he fought like a man who had already died once and didn't plan on doing it again. Garrick's training and his own hardened body made him a storm of flesh and bone.
Lira watched from the edge of the pit, her jaw tight. How, she wondered. How is he moving that fast with zero reinforcement?
Valen lunged, his blade glowing with a blue spark, but Kaito wasn't there. He slipped inside the guard, the butt of his sword slamming into Valen's solar plexus. The tall boy tumbled into the dirt, breathless and humiliated.
The hall went silent. Then, the whispers erupted again, sharper this time. Cursed child. Strong as a gale. Dangerous.
Lira stepped into the pit after the crowd dispersed. "You could have been reckless," she said, her voice a mix of a scold and something softer.
Kaito wiped a bead of sweat from his jaw. "I survive, Lira. Reckless is a luxury I don't have."
A spark passed between them then. It wasn't words or a smile. It was something heavier, a recognition of the iron inside them both. Neither dared to name it.
[The Ghost of the Past]
That night, in the quiet of the Guild's back courtyard, Garrick poured a cup for himself.
"Don't let them charm you, Kaito," he said, nodding toward the hall where Lira had disappeared. "She's smart. She's strong. And," he paused, his voice dropping an octave, "she'll irritate the hell out of you before you realize she's the only one you can trust."
Kaito didn't respond. He was thinking about the spar, about the control he needed, and about the way Lira's eyes had lingered on him.
But three days later, the world shifted again.
A letter arrived. It wasn't delivered by a common scout, but left on the Guild's table, sealed with expensive silver wax and bearing the soaring emblem of the Elven Crown.
Garrick opened it, his eyebrows knitting together in a hard line. "This, this shouldn't be here," he muttered.
"What is it?" Kaito asked.
Garrick handed him the parchment. The words were elegant, written in a hand that bled with hidden grief:
"The Silver Queen has given birth. A daughter. Mother and child are healthy, but the shadows in the court grow long. She fears the world's judgment. —Royal Seal"
Kaito's pulse spiked. His chest tightened as if an invisible hand had gripped his heart.
A sister.
He had a sister. His mother was alive, trapped in that golden cage of silver spires. The memories of his rejection, the 'Zero Mana' verdict, vibrated in his mind.
He had survived fire, hunger, and the cold steel of a murderer. He had built himself from nothing. But this was a different kind of challenge. A connection to a world that had thrown him away like trash.
[The Vow]
The Guild slept. Garrick snored softly in the corner, and Lira's cabin light finally flickered out.
Kaito sat on the edge of his cot, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.
I survived for a reason, he thought. I will protect her. I will rise until they can no longer look down on me.
[System Notification: Objective Updated.] [Quest: The Unseen Protector.] [Reward: Unlock 'Soldier Instinct' Rank E.]
Far away, in the lightless void, the Bound Goddess leaned forward, her eyes wide with anticipation.
"Interesting," she purred. "The heir stirs. Let the play begin."
And Kaito Ren, the cursed child, the soldier without magic, the prince who didn't know his own crown, took his first conscious step toward a path that would either save the world or burn it to the ground.