Back in the cold, damp prison, Rei sat in his cage, the darkness of his blindness weighing as heavy as the iron bars. If only I had my Chaos Scepter, he thought, his fingers twitching instinctively.
Miles away, within the moving Midgard cart, the Chaos Scepter pulsed with a sudden, brilliant glow. It lasted only a moment before fading, but the ripple of energy was unmistakable. Lyla, Tylon, and Tenko all froze, a strange warmth washing over them. They didn't see the light, but they felt a familiar, haunting presence. Rei was alive.
In a lavish room dripping with gold and excess, two men watched the arena through a reinforced glass window.
"This 'Blind Swordsman' has become a crowd favorite in just a single day," one man noted, swirling a glass of wine. "But he has a flaw. He doesn't kill."
"He's too good at putting people to sleep," the second man grumbled. "The high-rollers want blood. No blood, no big bets. We need to force his hand." He clapped his hands, and a servant led in a man with pale, sickly skin, deep black bags under his eyes, and a face that looked like it had forgotten how to smile. "He's a purchase from the Dark Guild. His name is Bane. He'll do exactly what we tell him."
The guard dragged Rei back to the arena shortly after. The roar of the crowd was deafening.
"Back by popular demand, the Blind Swordsman!" the announcer yelled. "And today, he faces a nightmare from the shadows—Bane of the Dark Guild!"
Rei stood in the center of the sand, his head tilted. I sense you, he thought. You aren't like the others. There's a void where your spirit should be. Just Like me.
"What are you muttering about, kid?" Bane hissed. He drew a jagged blade and lunged.
Rei dropped into the Central Sword Style, his blade meeting Bane's with a sharp clink. But Bane was no amateur. He was faster and more experienced than the previous thugs. He unleashed a barrage of slashes that forced Rei backward. One heavy strike caught Rei off guard, sending him flying across the arena into the stone wall.
"Oh! Has the Blind Swordsman met his match?" the announcer teased as the crowd groaned in disappointment.
Rei pushed himself out of the rubble, wiping a trail of blood from his lip. "You're strong," he admitted. "Insanely strong for your size."
Bane didn't reply; he simply charged again. Rei parried and ducked, but the impact of Bane's strikes was staggering. Every time Rei tried to find a rhythm, Bane sent him crashing into the walls.
I can't keep defending, Rei realized. He's a machine. I have to change the game. To the crowd's horror, Rei sheathed his sword. "Is he giving up?" someone shouted.
Bane saw the opening and brought his sword down in a lethal vertical arc. In a flash of movement, Rei threw his hands up, clapping them together around the flat of Bane's blade. Shinken Shirahadori—the True Sword Catch.
The crowd erupted. Before Bane could pull away, Rei twisted his wrists, employing the Tachitori disarming technique. The blade clattered to the sand.
Rei didn't stop. He transitioned into Jujutsu, throwing Bane to the ground. When Bane leaped back up with a desperate kick, Rei caught the leg and sent him reeling. Rei followed up with a series of Karate strikes—fast, precise, and aimed strictly at non-vital areas.
Bane was relentless. Even with his chest bruised and his breathing ragged, he refused to go down. In a fit of madness, Bane grabbed the hilt of Rei's sword and tried to pull the blade toward his own throat, attempting to commit suicide rather than lose.
"Don't even think about it," Rei growled. He kicked Bane's leg out, sent him spinning with a Judo throw, and drew his sword.
Since you're so intent on dying, Rei thought, I'll give you what the crowd wants—without actually doing it.
Rei charged, his blade a blur. He delivered a shallow, surface-level slash across Bane's chest to satisfy the audience's bloodlust. But hidden within the steel, Rei channeled a discreet spark of Lightning Sorcery. The shock bypassed Bane's muscles and went straight to his nervous system, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"The Blind Swordsman wins again!" the announcer shouted.
Up in the gold-trimmed room, the owners were fuming. "He went under despite the 'berserker' pills we gave him?" one hissed. "And the kid is even more popular now!"
Meanwhile, the Midgard cart rolled into a dusty border town. Tylon checked the maps. "We need to refuel and grab more supplies before we head Northeast."
"I guess so," Lyla agreed as they stepped out.
They hadn't even unhitched the cart before a group of rough-looking men and a woman with sharp eyes approached. "A moving cart without horses?" the woman mused to her lackeys. "Take it. It'll fetch a high price."
"I'm sorry, gentlemen," Tylon said, stepping forward with a polite smile. "But this is our cart."
The woman looked at Tylon with pure disdain. "Who do you think you are? Get lost."
Tylon saw the mana swirling around her. She's a powerful mage, he realized. He kept his smile. "I'm just the borrower of this cart. That's why I can't let you have it."
"Get him, boys!"
As the men charged, Tylon reached into his pouch. Using the methods Rei's books had taught him, he threw several Paralyzing Gas Pills at their feet. Thick green smoke billowed out, and the men collapsed, frozen mid-stride.
The woman clicked her tongue and began to chant:
"The Water Queen rose from a whispering tide,Pearls in her hair, the moon at her side,Her lance was a river held firm and bright,A frozen wave sharpened by oceanic might.
She cast it forth and the currents obeyed,Battlefields hushed where the blue light had played,No fire could stand, no fury remain,For her rule flowed eternal, unbroken as rain
Water Lance!"
A massive spear of high-pressure water shot toward Tylon. Suddenly, Tenko jumped in front, opening his mouth wide. A howling Tornado erupted from the navarion's, shredding the water lance into harmless mist.
"Don't overestimate yourself," Lyla warned. She threw a handful of enchanted seeds. Within seconds, thick, thorny vines erupted from the ground, binding the woman tightly. Tylon finished the job by tossing a paralyzing pill directly at her.
"Just... who are you people?" the woman wheezed as her muscles locked up.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Lyla replied coldly.
The trio finished gathering their supplies and left the town behind, their eyes fixed on the North-East and the hope of finding the White Dire Dog.