Clouds gathered overhead, dulling the sky as the air grew heavy.
"Saturu… you died."
The words were delivered without heat. Kayon's face was rigid, his eyes steady but heavy, his brow drawn tight.
Saturu didn't react at first. "…Died?" His voice was low, almost detached. His gaze flicked upward, sharp and searching.
There was no deception in Kayon's expression. Only grim certainty.
A slow breath left Saturu. "So that's what it was," he murmured.
"It's a miracle that you survived. Not many can escape the fate of Seraph-blight venom."
Seraph-blight venom. Saturu's eye widened in shock. "The cursed knife."
Kayon's voice remained cold. "It didn't merely suppress your mana. It killed it. That's why you can't use mana as an advantage anymore. In other words, it killed you."
"Impossible," Saturu said sharply.
"Judging by your reaction, you don't remember," Kayon said. "Kaito knew he couldn't defeat you directly. So he used Seraph-blight venom to disrupt your mana flow and spiritual energy."
The cursed knife can either destroy the mana core and spiritual energy or swallow one's soul. The thought settled in slowly, cold and heavy.
Memories surfaced—fragments that did not belong to him, yet burned with familiarity. They were the memories of Saturu, the Vermillion Knight.
The scent of blood and rain. The arena's roar fading into a single, sharp focus. Lord Kaito's face, twisted with cold purpose. The knife, gleaming with dark blue energy along its spine, thrust into his back.
The betrayers' faces twisted over Saturu's reflection. He felt it all—the agony, the betrayal, the suffocating helplessness—as if he were living it himself.
Rage surged. Veins stood out along his temples. His aura flared violently, warping the air.
Even in this life, you still try to get in my way. A memory surfaced. A warning from someone named Lumina echoed in his mind.
"I fear something terrible is coming—something tied to our failures. When that time comes… seek the truth."
Saturu's expression hardened. Whoever gave Kaito the cursed knife… what were they trying to achieve?
"Your return may point to something far greater at work."
"This tea you gave me—"
"Yes, it's Ethermind tea."
Ethermind tea was used to recall the recent memories of the one who drank it—the memories of the body's previous owner.
As the War King reincarnated into Saturu's body, he could not recall those recent memories, even with the tea. A thought crossed his mind: his own memories were also missing.
"What do you intend to do now?"
"I want vengeance." An image of his betrayers surfaced in his mind.
"Aren't you too young to be seeking revenge? And who do you hold a vendetta against?"
"Those who betrayed me and left me for dead."
Kayon did not ask further. "If that is what you seek, I will not stop you nor aid you. This is your battle. May you be satisfied."
Kayon continued bluntly as he poured another tea—this one a deep red. He took a spoon and stirred. He gave the cup an intense look, raised it, and savored the aroma.
"If you push your power further, consequences will follow. You have noticed it yourself. Every time you unleash your power, you lose consciousness or suffer internal system problems. The first sign was your sword shattering from the power output. That's likely because of your damaged mana core. Your power cannot be contained."
Saturu sank into thought. Even with a damaged core, he should be able to wield power like he did in his past life, without relying on mana.
Kayon's tone turned serious, his face expressionless. "Saturu, your soul is fragmented."
"That's impossible…" Saturu's voice wavered in disbelief.
The world tilted. A soul wasn't supposed to fragment. To be precise, a piece of his soul was missing. That explained the hollow emptiness within him. He realized the purple cracks that healed slowly on his body meant he had pushed past his limits.
"This means if you push your power further than the body can handle, you will eventually die."
"I see…"
"But there is an alternative for the power you're carrying. You could seek out Divine Weapons."
Saturu's eyes widened. "Are there other Divine Weapons?" In his past life, he had wielded a divine blade. Divine weapons did not rust or shatter. He thought of recovering his own.
"None are easily found. Most were lost. But one of them remains unclaimed."
Kayon's tone remained even. "You must go to Skull Mountain during a waxing crescent moon."
"The Mountain of Fallen Swordmasters," Saturu murmured. He knew the rumors—warriors went there to claim power, but he never imagined a divine blade would be there.
"Correct. A place where many have fallen seeking the Divine Blade."
He set his tools aside.
"I will leave at once." Saturu jumped down from the rock onto the soft grass below.
"Just a quick reminder. If you don't make it in time, you'll be trapped."
"Thank you, Kayon. I don't know how to repay you."
"You don't need to."
Kayon had sensed Saturu's rise in energy—a violent, warping pressure in the air. He watched, his expression unmoved.
"Such a powerful aura. If I had not given him that tea, who would have known what would have happened."