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The last shadowblade

はぁ_ダニエル
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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Synopsis
"Raised in a quiet village veiled in ancient myths, Hikaru lived unaware of the truth behind his family’s past. But when a ruthless gang burns his home to the ground in search of a forbidden sword, his world collapses. With his grandparents gone and a strange power stirring within him, Hikaru is thrust into a journey of vengeance, hidden magic, and blood-stained secrets. The truth awaits—but so do the shadows that have haunted his bloodline since the day he was born."
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Chapter 1 - Whispers in the Shadowed Night

The forest was eerily silent, its trees intertwining their branches above, almost blocking the moonlight, leaving only faint streaks of light slipping through the leaves like quiet breaths. Everything around them seemed to be breathing slowly... the trees, the shadows, even the air itself.

In a clearing between the trees, small flames danced within a circle of stones, breaking the silence with the crackling of dry wood. Hikaru sat on the ground, placing his sword beside him, stretching his hands toward the fire as if it were the only refuge from the cold that was starting to bite the tips of his fingers.

Next to him, Kyoji, with his shining blond hair, leaned against a massive tree trunk, legs stretched out, eyes half-closed. He was unusually quiet, watching the fire slowly consume the sticks, as if seeing something no one else could see.

Kyoji stared at the fire for a moment, then shifted his gaze toward Hikaru. He kept watching him silently, as if the flames revealed something previously unseen. It was as if he saw a deep sorrow in Hikaru's features behind that smile — as if his smile was merely a mask hiding a profound sadness inside his heart.

At that moment, Kyoji began to speak to himself, silently describing his friend's features, as if the words lacked the courage to be spoken aloud.

"He didn't resemble anyone I've ever known… as if he had stepped out from the pages of an unpublished novel, or from a forgotten dream. He had jet-black hair that swallowed the light with its intensity, and skin carved from snow. His eyes never decided whether they belonged to a deep sorrow or a faint joy living on the edge. His stature was slightly taller than usual, as if the sky was pulling him up but never quite succeeded. When he passed by, you felt the air stir around him — not complete calm, nor obvious turmoil, but something in between… like a chapter without a name. He was neither good nor evil, but a third thing — mysterious, indescribable without error. Perhaps that was what scared people about him: that he could never be understood."

At that moment, Kyoji asked his friend Hikaru, "Hikaru, why do you want to attack the gang's headquarters?"