What were the key strengths of a transmigrator? Perhaps it was the knowledge of the future or the ability to discover rare resources?
No, it was being able to understand the characters on a deeper level. Beyond the surface. Form relationships no one could. The ability to perceive everyone from a different reality.
Part of my mind was still in slight disbelief, despite the truth of it all. A week ago, I was on the verge of death, but now I had a fresh opportunity. I aimed to become someone beyond what I had ever imagined. My thoughts churned; the official plot had begun, and I had truly met a key character.
Valencia Nocturna, heiress to the Nocturns, led a tragic tale. Her life was riddled with high expectations, much like mine. Ashyn's cruel fate swiftly cut her aspirations and dreams; she was the first to die in the party. Valencia always maintained a strong front, burying the little girl deep within her heart. Her father, while affectionate, fell to a demon, sending her into a spiral of self-hate and constant depreciation. Her mother became strict, further adding to her burdens, always loading her with an unending stream of obligations. Valencia would die, having never smiled once after her father's death. It was a predictable script, nevertheless a miserable one.
I believed that the whole party had to stay alive, at least past the first trial. Their synergy was unmistakable, with many of their abilities overlapping. But now I had a year less to fulfil the conditions while raising myself to {S} and them to {A}. I would have to meet the whole cast to reassure myself of the novel's accuracy, so I won't dwell on these thoughts for now.
'Right now I have to raise my personal funds.' On the web I discovered my family's guild was on a decline due to inner strife, so I couldn't rely on them. Not that I would in this life. The academy would start tomorrow, so I would auction my dragon essence now. In Virrelium there were two auction types: Lunar Auctions and Lumis Auctions. Their only difference was in the way they sold their items. Lunar Auctions charged a much higher commission rate of around 40%, but they ensured seller anonymity. They also took on certain jobs like assassinations or guard work depending on the membership you had with them. Lumis would take low commission rates and had the best healers around Civoria. Fitting names.
Heading into the dark alleyway, I flicked on my watch and scrolled the web. There was only one way to contact Lunar. I pressed the moon icon on their website.
A blanket of darkness washed over me.
Once again.
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Moon 36 Pov
Someone was actually unaffected by the Nocturna's charm.
'An {F+}, interesting.'
Something was telling me to follow him. I could smell something. Money and opportunity.
He couldn't escape my senses. I was a {B+} who specialised in sensory perception, yet his presence seemed to shift in and out of my awareness. 'Most likely an item.' I watched the kid leave after the noise returned. My task was finished now: to make sure the young heiress arrived safely in Virrelium.
I had nothing to do and the kid was walking into the section of Virrelium I covered… So I followed him.
He went into an alleyway, and it was, to my pleasant surprise, he who was contacting us. I grinned in satisfaction. I whisked him into the meeting room where negotiations and discussions were held.
There was no surprise nor reaction from the boy. I knew all the customers of Lunar Auction, so I knew he was a new client, but it seemed he already knew it would happen. Secrecy was of the utmost significance to our operations. I would have to host a meeting later. He walked over to the chair and sat down, so I reciprocated. He gave off an unsettling vibe, but I was sure he was {F+}. He slowly took down his hood. Bored grey eyes met mine, filled with a steady intensity. His pale skin was a perfect contrast to the black bangs that hung over his face in a messy but stylish way. I widened my eyes and cleared my throat, slightly baffled by his looks.
"I need a superior." Before I could voice my thoughts, a giant spike of energy vibrated from his cheap ring. Immediately, I swapped with a superior, Moon 5.
The item was beyond me.
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Moon 5 POV
"Hello, young patron. I am Moon 5, and I will be dealing with your request." I stated with a polite smile. It would have been crazy, seeing an {S-} so subservient, but this was Lunar Auctions.
Before he answered, his eyes turned completely blank. No emotions could be read from his presence, but there was a slight pressure he radiated.
It wasn't forceful but a pressure that told me not to underestimate him. I had previously sensed the aura of the product he was offering. Therefore, I had to give him a deluxe membership. His potential was clearly above {S+} if he was willing to sell the product. We had to make a connection with such a young prodigy.
A swift exchange bounced between us.
"30%"
"10%"
"20%"
"10%"
"15% off is available with one of our limited deluxe memberships, which includes access to auctions within the academy, VIP treatment, and a dedicated member of staff available at all times."
"Deal."
I gave him a satisfied grin. It was a favourable deal, but those blank eyes remained clear, as if the outcome was expected.
As he handed the ring over, he introduced himself. "My name is Aeron Araxys."
"Can I request a better storage ring, Moon 5?" The boy's eyes had returned to the normal bored expression, but his face had paled slightly.
'A skill?'
"Certainly, Mr Araxys." I gifted him a 100㎥ one worth up to five million credits. "On the house."
"Since it's a dragon essence, we will boost the price by advertising it. The money will be in your private account within two weeks. Is that fine, Mr Araxys? "
"Yes. Please drop me off at the closest hotel." I nodded with a polite smile before sending the boy off.
"It was a pleasure doing business, Mr Araxys." His name was fully imprinted in my mind. I would personally oversee his secrecy as a deluxe member, but he was truly an intriguing individual.
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Aeron POV
Sleep could wait. After days of contemplation following my rebirth, I had made a decision. Talent was primary, but weapon choice would be what carried that talent in Ashyn. All races had a weapon, which would grow alongside them. That was the only thing that tied all races together.
Dual wielding was a path unwalked by the majority. Weapons were complicated in Ashyn. All weapons were sentient, tied to the mana cores of their owners. Their rarity was dependent on the core used, which in turn would announce their rank cap. The weapons grew to their rank cap alongside their owners, a process that required both time and resources. The royal family and top ten guilds all possessed orewrights and runesmiths, who were the only people able to craft high-level cores. In Ashyn, each race had only one {SS} Orewright. It was a lucrative occupation. Even low-ranked wrights could make a decent living.
Dual-wielding was different. It was all about balance. Keeping both weapons equal was extremely difficult. Even with resources available, the control of mana was their first obstacle. They required the utmost precision with their usage. If anyone could achieve that level of control, Aura came next. It had to match the nature of the two weapon cores, which were often contrasting. Dual wielding represented opposing forces such as yin and yang, fire and water, and light and dark. Being able to juggle two opposing forces while in the heat of battle without imploding was only one of the many obstacles I would face. Thousands have tried, and none succeeded.
The novel mentioned it only once, and it was never referenced again. A passing tale for the hero. Across Ashyn, the number of dual weapons was in single digits. There were currently no wielders of dual weapons.
It was the ideal weapon for me. An obscure path unwalked. I could have the freedom to create and lead my own fable. Nothing could control me. The arts I would make would fit me alone. I could start a legacy.
I would do what was deemed impossible.
I glanced at the shop window of the place I would find my future. An unfamiliar expression stared back. His eyes were full of unadulterated excitement. A small smile was seen across his handsome visage. I reached for the window and traced the outside of his face. Small droplets of rain pattered down, and the glass began to fog up. As the condensation thickened, the smile disappeared and the usual bored stare returned before the window was fully white. It had been a long time since I had seen that innocent face. Perhaps it would appear more often in this life.
It was getting late, but I entered the shop anyway. Orewrights were never truly asleep. Their senses surpassed those of normal superhumans because they needed to fine-tune every impurity present in the cores. Gradually I entered the store. A dull, dreary yellow light flickered on automatically. An aromatic haze of musty oil and metal filled the air, and long shadows of machines stretched across the messy interior of the smithy. This person was an {A+} on the run from the dwarves. There was no place better to hide than Virrelium, the place dwarves hated most.
His name was Furor Gladii. This name literally translates to 'sword fury' from Latin. Furor's love for swords was beyond obsession; it was worship. He was a dwarven collector who stole from his people and would gladly die for one. He even switched out his hands for swords and used them to create cores. The novel was unclear on how ores were made, but I would learn for myself if possible. However, that notion would be on hold for now.
A husky, grounded voice reverberated across the metals, ringing in my eardrums.
"Boy, what do you want?"
"Furor."
Before the wheels creaked, I heard the sound of metals clashing and falling. A short, lean, muscular man rolled towards me in a wheelchair. His skin was tanned and marked with scars, and his eyes were completely gold. Dark eyebags and creases of age patterned his face. His hair was missing in patches, riddled with holes, each telling a story of their own. I stared deep into his narrowed eyes and repeated his name.
"Furor."
"How do you know me?"
"Does it matter?"
He grunted in irritation.
"I wish to dual-wield, and I know you have what I need." His eyes lit up with incredulity, and a toothy grin appeared, full of clear mockery.
"Heh! Another fool seeking death."
Sputters of saliva shot across the stained floor and laughter full of ridicule resounded in the smithy. But I stood there waiting patiently for him to end his charade. It was a test to see my seriousness and commitment. Without warning, a wave of pressure crashed into me. The walls shook and the machines creaked with apparent effort.
I nearly faltered against the sudden assault.
I activated Poker Gaze. Already my mana began to drain at a noticeable rate.
The pressure lessened slightly, giving me a standing chance.
I had yet to know the effects of Poker Gaze on the opposing party, but it was effective. His eyebrows lit up with surprise and he leaned in slightly, trying to pry into my secrets. The pressure was nowhere near his full strength, as it was a test. If he did, I would have been smote where I stood.
Resistance would be futile.
My gaze continued to bore into his golden eyes, now bearing unmistakable curiosity. His stare crawled up and down me as he muttered something underneath his breath. I knew he only saw me as a test subject, the same way he viewed every person who wielded his swords. At least that's what I had thought.
His pressure disappeared as fast as it came. The old orewright leaned back into his wheelchair and scratched his dry stubble with his sword. A small sigh was heard before he spoke in a softer tone. His eyes shone again, now in a different sheen.
"Answer me, child of the fall, what truth do you carry from the past?" I furrowed my eyebrows. Fall? Truth? Past? What did he mean? Did those eyes show him something I could not see?
His eyes glowed brighter.
"I don't understand, Mister Gladii."
"Your nature seeks to bend, twist, and break rules, but your spirit is… skewed, as if touched by another realm." Now they were gleaming with ferocity and his right eye began to bleed.
I took a step back. I heard his teeth grit before he stopped and closed his eyes. His sword hand shot towards his right eye, skewering it before pulling it out and throwing it to the corner of the room. A murmur sounded before golden sigils gilded with black runes shot to the corner. The room flashed a blinding white, making me close my eyes. When I opened them, there was a small hole in the corner of the room, completely circular in shape, as if it was erased from reality.
"This room is made of Gwynium, an {S+} rare earth metal that even {SS} would find resistant to damage."
He sighed a long breath. Furor looked back at me. One eye now was completely black and the other a dull gold. Yet despite this, a toothy grin remained plastered to his wrinkled face.
"I saw something I shouldn't have and pried into your privacy."
He paused for a moment.
"Follow me, Aeron Araxys." I paused.
"Don't worry. Your name and several multicoloured lines were all I could see before losing my eye." He said without turning back.
After walking down a long corridor, he suddenly turned and rolled straight into the wall.
'An illusion.'
"Stay there for me."
After an hour of clinging and rummaging, he finally came out with two plain handle grips, one white and one black and a pair of tinted glasses.
"Figured out you needed it for your academics."
"I have eidetic memory." He threw away the glasses, swapping them for a black shirt. "The shirt works as an absorber. The shirt is made from wyrm hide and can absorb attacks around {C-}. Useful for hunting trips. They can be detected by academy sensors, so be careful."
"Take the sword handle grips. Pass their test and you can own the twin weapons. I do not know anything about the twin weapons and do not wish to learn more. They are beyond the abilities of any orewright, and I came to possess them purely out of curiosity; however, they remain unreactive."
I slowly grabbed the two handles. My hands rested comfortably on the twin grips as if they were made for me. Black lightning travelled across my left hand as if curious. Chaos and volatility were what I felt from the lightning. They sparked, dancing across the surface of my skin, eventually crawling up my arm, forming what looked like a crackling black arm sleeve.
The white handle released a faint, visible breeze, which was pure white in colour. It felt as if I were gazing into an empty white abyss, yet it was reassuring, safe, and peaceful. It also slithered up my arm, examining and assessing me.
Furor's grin had been replaced by a gaping mouth, from which faint traces of saliva leaked down his stubble. I grimaced, but I stood still.
By now one half of my body was lathered in black lightning and the other a soft foggy white. My head remained untouched by them. When the two met in the middle, they intertwined together like they were whispering unseen words. They stayed there for a while before retreating into the two handle grips.
I looked at the weapons.
'Status'