The sky above the Gray Zone was a swirling mass of black clouds, twisted by the dark energy that permeated this cursed place. It felt as though the air itself was poisoned, thick with a malevolent force that seeped into every breath. We had been fighting for what felt like hours, our movements becoming slower, more desperate with each passing moment.
The creatures—the lycanthropes—were relentless.
Massive, monstrous beasts with thick fur, gleaming red eyes, and claws that could tear through steel. They moved with the speed of predators, their growls echoing through the fog like a death knell. We were surrounded on all sides, and no matter how many we cut down, more seemed to take their place.
Selene and Zeke were fighting just as fiercely as I was, their weapons flashing through the mist, but even they were beginning to falter. We had to get out of here. Fast.
I dodged a lycanthrope's claws by mere inches, rolling to the side and striking it with a blast of wind magic. The creature howled, stumbling back, but it didn't fall. They never fell—not until you cut their heads clean off.
"Zeke! Behind you!" I shouted, my voice hoarse from the effort.
Zeke spun just in time to deflect a blow, his blade ringing out as it connected with the lycanthrope's thick hide. He grimaced, his muscles straining as he pushed the creature back. "We're getting overwhelmed here, Ryuji!"
"I know!" I gritted my teeth, slashing at another lycanthrope that lunged at me. My magic was running low, and my sword felt heavy in my hand. "We need to fall back—find some cover!"
But there was no cover in this wasteland. The mist obscured everything beyond a few meters, and every direction seemed to lead deeper into this nightmare.
Selene was fighting a group of them, her water affinity swirling around her in a storm of liquid blades, but even she was starting to tire. The creatures pressed in closer, sensing our weakness.
"We can't keep this up," she called out, her voice edged with panic.
I knew she was right. The lycanthropes were too many, too fast. And they weren't just mindless beasts—they were organized, strategic. Whoever—or whatever—was controlling them knew what they were doing.
Another one lunged at me, and I barely managed to parry its strike, my sword vibrating from the impact. The force of it sent me staggering back, and before I could recover, another beast was upon me.
I didn't have time to think.
With a surge of desperation, I reached into the depths of my mind, where the Fate Script lay dormant, waiting to be used. I had already used it before to save myself in a desperate moment, and now I had no choice but to use it again.
Activate Fate Script.
The familiar sensation washed over me—the pull of fate bending to my will, the world around me shifting as the script rewrote reality itself. The lycanthrope lunging at me froze mid-air, its claws mere inches from my throat.
And then, something strange happened.
A pulse of energy rippled through the air, centered around me. My vision blurred, and for a brief moment, everything went dark. When I opened my eyes again, the mist had parted, and in my hand... was a sword.
Not just any sword.
The Sword of King Arthur.
The blade was gleaming silver, intricately carved with ancient runes that pulsed with a light of their own. It felt impossibly light in my grip, yet I could sense the immense power it held—power that resonated with the very fabric of fate.
The lycanthropes hesitated, as if sensing the shift in the air, the presence of something far greater than themselves. I didn't give them a chance to react.
With a single, sweeping motion, I slashed through the nearest beast, the blade cutting through its thick hide like butter. The creature let out a strangled howl before dissolving into nothingness, its body disintegrating in a burst of light.
Zeke and Selene stared in shock as I turned toward the remaining lycanthropes, the sword glowing brighter with each passing second. The creatures hesitated, their predatory instincts overridden by fear.
"This ends now," I muttered, gripping the sword tightly.
I surged forward, the Sword of King Arthur cutting through the air with a deadly precision. Every strike was a blur, the blade moving faster than I could comprehend. The lycanthropes fell one by one, unable to withstand the sheer power of the sword.
Within moments, the battlefield was clear. The mist began to recede, the oppressive energy lifting as the last of the creatures was cut down.
We stood there in the eerie silence, breathing heavily. Zeke sheathed his blade, his eyes wide as he looked at me. "Where the hell did you get that?"
I looked down at the sword in my hand, the runes still glowing faintly. "Fate gave it to me."
"Fate?" Selene asked, her voice incredulous. "You used the Fate Script again?"
I nodded, though the weight of what I had just done began to settle over me. The Fate Script wasn't something to be used lightly. Each use drained my lifeline, bringing me closer to... well, I wasn't sure what. But the number in my mind had shifted.
Fate Scripts Remaining: 10,320.
I had paid the price. But for now, we were alive.
"We need to move," I said, trying to shake off the unease. "There's no telling what else is waiting for us out here."
Zeke nodded, though his eyes lingered on the sword for a moment longer. "Yeah... let's get the hell out of here."
We made our way out of the Gray Zone, the oppressive mist finally lifting as we crossed the border back into Dicartha territory. The Sword of King Arthur was still in my hand, its weight now feeling like a constant reminder of the price I had paid.
As we reached safety, I glanced down at the blade once more. Fate had given me this weapon for a reason, but I knew it wouldn't be the last time I would need to rely on it.
I placed the sword on my hip, a rush of hope flowing over me, I needed to get to prove to myself that I could survive, that I was not just a warrior, but a survivor, a man remembered for his undying perseverance.
That's all I needed to be.
That all I ever wanted to be.