The dirt clung to his hands as he stood.
I could see it—the question on his lips, the one aimed at Sylvia.
She didn't flinch. Her voice was soft, almost kind, but I caught the steel beneath it.
"Night… I'll tell you the answer the day you can land a real blow on me."
Her words didn't touch me directly, but the weight in the air did. I'd felt that presence before—cold, endless, like the deep ocean swallowing light. She walked past him, and the cliffside wind carried something heavier than her steps.
Even I didn't know what she was hiding.
But if it concerned him—my master—then I would know.
Eventually.
---
The forest shuddered under the tide's spawn.
I moved without thought, my body slipping through shadow, reappearing where my blades needed to be. One swing, two cuts, one kill—clean. The abomination fell apart, its black blood spilling into the dirt.
[You have slain Twilight Horror, Tide Howler.]
The voice echoed in my head, but it was just noise.
I turned my gaze and saw him—Master—slay another at the exact same breath. Our movements didn't match, but our rhythm did. Growth. We were pushing each other higher without speaking it aloud.
The creatures kept crawling from the sea, desperate, maddened. A shift was happening. The battlefield's edge reeked of change.
We kept cutting.
---
When the last spawn fell, the voice came again—stronger this time.
[You have slain Twilight Demon, Tide Breaker.]
I froze. Twilight-ranked. Even for me… that was a dangerous tier. Yet my blades had found its life without calling fully on my essence.
The darkness inside me pulsed.
Alive.
Stronger than before.
But still—nothing compared to what it would become.
---
I was in the cave when he returned.
My arms were crossed, my stance casual to hide the truth. My face… neutral. Unreadable. I'd mastered that look long ago—it kept questions from opening doors I wasn't ready to walk through.
Sylvia was there too, her presence changed. Not weaker—never that—but sharper, colder. Like the edge of a blade honed past reason.
He greeted her. I stayed silent.
And then—his sword came for me.
The blow was direct, deliberate. It pushed me back several steps, leaves scattering under my boots. My grip adjusted on instinct, my heartbeat steady even as I read the weight in his tone.
"Ren. You're slow today."
Slow? Maybe. Or maybe I was measuring my breath, keeping certain truths buried.
He came at me again. Faster.
My body welcomed it. The pressure. The chance to move. I shifted my stance, layering my footwork to hide my intent. My sword met his in sparks, the steel singing like it remembered war.
The urge rose in me—not to match him, but to surpass him.
Not for pride.
Not for glory.
But because if I wasn't the blade that cut before danger reached him, then I was nothing.
I struck harder, my hair loosening and falling into my eyes.
"Tell me what you're hiding," he said.
That cut deeper than any sword.
For a heartbeat, I wanted to answer.
But my truth wasn't ready for him—not yet.
Lightless Veil.
Darkness folded around me, swallowing sound, swallowing sight. In that stillness, I could breathe again.
I'm sorry, Master.
Not now.
---
The days blurred.
We fought every morning. Every night.
His attacks grew sharper. Mine did too. But I kept my silence.
It wasn't stubbornness. It was survival.
Because the moment he learned why I existed—
He would see the chains tied to my soul.
And I wasn't ready for him to look at me that way.
---
The cliffside wind carried the smell of the ocean and the weight of battle before it began.
I stood beside him. Sword in hand. Breath even.
The woman across from us—Sylvia—was a force the world itself bent around.
She spoke of us teaming up. There was no scorn in her voice, just something quiet. Tired.
When she moved, she vanished.
I stepped in without hesitation, blades rising. The impact rattled up my arms, hurling me back. My boots dug into the dirt before I sprang forward again.
We clashed.
I cut high—he cut low.
Her defense was perfect. She swept my legs, but I caught the ground, flipping back.
This wasn't a duel.
It was a test.
The wood of my sword cracked under her strikes, but I didn't falter.
I was his shadow.
I was his blade.
And no matter how heavy her strikes, I would not let her break him.
---
When the rhythm came, it was like a thread pulling us both forward.
His flame bloomed black, no longer wild but measured. My broken sword joined that rhythm, flowing like it had been carved for this one moment.
Two beats.
One rhythm.
We pushed Sylvia back.
For the first time, her defense cracked.
And in that breath, I felt it—
The truth of the Darklings.
We weren't born to serve.
We were born to stand beside.
And as long as I lived, no one would stand above him.
Our final strikes crossed in fire and shadow.
When she knelt, bleeding but smiling, I saw it in her eyes—respect.
She saw us.
She saw me.
Her form… was unraveling.
The moment I saw it, my stomach knotted. I turned my face away before Night could read me.
Because I knew.
This was the cost.
He ran to her—Sylvia—and wrapped his arms around her fading body. His voice shook when he asked what was happening.
I kept my distance, my fingers curling against the hilt of my sword.
Her faint smile cut deeper than any wound.
"Night… thank you. I never knew sorrow could be this beautiful."
Her words weren't for me, but I felt them anyway.
She spoke of truth, of decades that had stolen her memory, and of the Heart and the Wraith.
Then she pressed something into his hand.
A key, glowing faintly in the dim light.
I memorized every flicker of her form before it vanished completely.
Because I couldn't forget.
Because part of me feared… that one day, he'd watch me fade the same way.
The hex's voice broke the silence:
[You have completed the task]
[Learn the Art of the Cursed Immortal]
[You have received the First clue to awaken your first art]
I felt it too—my own grasp of the Sorrow Style sharpening, deepening.
Not from triumph. From loss.
Night clenched the key. "Ren… let's go."
I followed without a word.
---
The veil rose before us like liquid sky.
Its surface shimmered, bending light as though it was more dream than matter.
He stepped forward, and I moved with him—his shadow, his sword.
The world beyond was… wrong.
Shimmering sand, glass-like underfoot. Trees swaying in a wind that stopped in an instant. Leaves falling, frozen in the air like the breath of time had been stolen.
[You have crossed over to the Second Region of the Sorrow Veil]
[You have entered the Echoing Vestige]
[Your presence has been acknowledged by the ruler of this realm]
[He is forcing you into his timeline]
The ground began to shift. Sand curled upward, twisting into a rising storm.
Every nerve in my body lit up.
Danger.
Before I could act, his command came sharp:
"Ren—return to my soul!"
The bond flared, pulling me back into the quiet dark where I waited, unseen but ready.
And then, the storm swallowed him whole.