MASTERS OF THE ETERNITY
Chapter 01: The Echo of Red Sand
The midday sun blazed down upon the high desert trail, painting the world in gold and silence. Dust clung to their boots, their backs heavy with worn travel packs. Izek Kurashira walked beside Raian Tsukihara, their shadows stretched long against the cracked ground.
"I hate how quiet it is," Izek said, brushing sweat from his brow. "No birds, no wind. Just… nothing."
Raian gave a short nod. "Something's off. Stay sharp."
They'd been traveling for six days straight since leaving the northern cliffs, following a broken trail whispered about in the last village — one that might lead to another shard of information on the Blade of Eternity. Rumors, mostly. But they couldn't ignore them. Not with so many others out there hunting the same myth.
A distant scream shattered the silence. It was raw. Human.
They both froze. Izek's green eyes flicked to Raian's.
"That wasn't an animal," Izek said.
Raian's brow furrowed. "No. That was pain."
They sprinted toward the sound without hesitation.
---
The two crested a ridge of sandstone to find a small caravan torn apart — wagons overturned, wooden wheels splintered, and canvas ripped like paper. Blood smeared the stones. A fire crackled nearby, ignored, consuming a fallen tent.
Izek's breath caught in his throat.
Four bodies lay still. Two were children.
Raian's jaw clenched. "Weapons out."
Before they could move, a figure rose from behind a wagon. Tall, wrapped in heavy black leather. His face was masked, only two glowing yellow eyes visible through a slitted visor.
A Hunter.
"Too late," the man said, voice like grinding metal. "This path belongs to the Crimson Reapers now. And you're trespassing."
From the shadows emerged three more. Each clad in ragged red armor, each wielding jagged blades, axes, and cruel barbed chains.
"Izek," Raian said slowly, pulling his short-blade free. "These aren't thugs. These are trained."
Izek nodded. "I see it."
"You can still leave," the Hunter offered. "Your bodies intact. But I doubt either of you have the spine."
Raian stepped forward. "Try us."
---
The clash was instant.
Metal rang, sand flew. Raian moved like fire — precise, graceful, deflecting blade after blade as he danced between two enemies. Izek held his own, fists wrapped tight, movements sharp but grounded. He ducked a chain swing and slammed his elbow into the attacker's chest, only to be thrown back by a savage boot.
They were outmatched. The Reapers didn't fight like bandits — they moved with formation, controlled chaos. Every missed strike led into a trap. Every parried blow hid a follow-up.
Izek dodged a slash — barely. Blood slid down his arm. He was breathing harder now. Pain shot through his ribs. He wasn't fast enough.
Not yet.
Raian was holding them off, but not for long. His blade was chipped, his left arm limp.
Then—
A scream tore through the air. Raian's body slammed into the dirt, blood spurting from a deep gash across his chest. He coughed, spitting crimson.
"Raian!" Izek shouted, running to him — only to be caught mid-step by a boot to the chest. He hit the ground hard. His ears rang.
The Hunter stood over him now.
"You fight well. For a child," the Hunter said, raising a heavy blade. "But fate doesn't care how hard you try."
He brought the sword down.
Raian cried out — reaching for him, broken, dying.
Izek's eyes widened. His pulse spiked.
No.
His fingers dug into the sand. His ribs screamed. The weight of everything — his helplessness, his weakness, the blood, the screams, the broken dream of being strong enough to protect something — it all cracked.
The ground shuddered.
The sword didn't land.
The Hunter was blasted back, flipping through the air, crashing into stone.
A pulse of green light surged from Izek's body. Not fire. Not magic.
Renkai.
The raw life-force within all living beings. The ability to harness it was thought to be rare — and Izek had just awakened it.
His eyes glowed — bright green, swirling with violent motion. Dust lifted around him. His veins pulsed with energy.
He stood. Blood still dripped from his wounds, but his posture changed. Steady. Cold. Unmoving.
"Izek…?" Raian choked out, watching.
Izek didn't answer.
The nearest Reaper lunged.
Izek met him halfway — a blur of motion.
His fist struck the man's jaw with such force that the Reaper's neck snapped sideways mid-air before the body even hit the ground.
The next came with a chain.
Izek sidestepped, caught it mid-swing, yanked the attacker toward him, and drove his elbow into the man's face — crushing bone and sending him rolling across the sand.
It wasn't just speed. It was instinct. Like something inside had been unleashed. Every motion was precise, lethal, unthinking.
The Hunter recovered, drawing twin sabers now, fury replacing arrogance.
"You little—"
He charged.
Their clash was brutal.
Sparks flew as steel met hand. But Izek didn't falter. He dodged, ducked, struck. Blood splattered the sand. The Hunter was fast — but Izek was faster.
He felt nothing. No fear. No hesitation.
Only movement. Only survival.
Only him.
And then, the opening came.
A slip of the foot.
Izek struck.
His fist collided with the Hunter's chest — once, twice, three times — then a final uppercut that shattered the mask and launched him ten feet back.
The Hunter didn't move again.
---
Silence returned.
Izek stood there, chest heaving, blood soaking his arms. His glow faded slowly.
He turned to Raian, rushing to his side.
Raian coughed. "You idiot…" he managed, weakly smiling. "You finally did it."
Izek's hands trembled. "You almost died."
"I'm not that easy to kill," Raian muttered, closing his eyes.
Izek stared at the blood around them.
This wasn't the kind of power you dreamed about as a kid.
This was real. And it came with a cost.
---
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Izek carried Raian's injured body to what remained of the caravan's shelter. The sky above turned a deep crimson — like the sand, now soaked in blood.
And somewhere, far beyond the desert, whispers stirred. A new Renkai user had awakened. A new piece had entered the game for the Blade of Eternity.
And the world had taken notice.
TO BE CONTINUED