The road out of Rensfield was quiet, the laughter and clamor of the tavern fading behind them. Lanterns swung in the night wind, casting long shadows that seemed to follow them into the forest.
Selene walked ahead, her steps sharp, the bundle of supplies tight in her grip. She hadn't said a word since they left the gates, but Asura could feel the weight of her silence like a blade at his neck.
Finally, it broke.
"Young master." Her voice was low, trembling not with fear but with anger restrained. "Do you understand what you almost did in there?"
Asura scratched his cheek, pretending to look confused. "…Uh. Ordered the wrong drink?"
She stopped walking. Her violet eyes blazed in the moonlight as she turned to him, her tone sharper than any blade.
"You spoke of the Behemoth as if you knew. You spoke of mana like a scholar. And worse—you almost revealed yourself in a tavern of humans who would burn us alive if they realized what you are."
Asura blinked, then gave a sheepish smile. "I said beetles are gross. That's all anyone remembers."
Selene exhaled sharply, gripping her cloak so tight the fabric strained. "You gamble too easily with your life. With our lives."
He wanted to laugh it off. To shrug and say she worried too much. But seeing her like this—jaw tight, eyes bright with something dangerously close to fear—made his grin falter.
"…I'll be more careful," he muttered.
Selene studied him for a long moment, then turned away. "See that you are. Because one day, young master, charm will not save you."
They walked on, silence returning, though it felt heavier now.
Asura adjusted the bundle on his back, his golden eyes hidden beneath his hood. He let Selene's words wash over him, but inside, his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.
Six-Blade Demon Style.
The phrase still echoed in his system, glowing faintly in the back of his mind like a promise. A style locked, waiting for weapons that didn't yet exist.
He imagined it again—two blades across his back, two at his hips, two resting at his sides. Each slash overlapping, weaving destruction into artistry. His aura, his will, his anime-born imagination fueling something no demon or human had ever conceived.
The corner of his lips twitched upward.
She scolds me for being reckless. Maybe she's right. But she doesn't understand. If I play it safe, if I hide forever, then I'll never reach it.
His hand brushed against the wooden katana still tied at his side, scarred and worn but unbroken. Four years it had carried him. Four years, and it still endured.
"Six blades…" he whispered under his breath, unheard by Selene. "…Six blades will change everything."
The forest wind stirred, carrying away his words, as if the night itself was listening.
✦ The Forge's Shadow
The human settlement of Grayhaven loomed larger than Rensfield, its stone walls towering high, its gates guarded by men in polished mail. The smell of smoke and iron clung to the air—this was a city built on industry, not farmland.
Asura tugged at the hood covering his silver hair, hiding the horns that pressed uncomfortably against the cloth. Beside him, Selene walked with a grace too elegant for the crowd, her cloak drawn low. She murmured under her breath.
"Young master… this is madness. This city has inquisitors. If one even suspects us—"
"Relax," Asura cut in, flashing a grin that she could barely see under the hood. "We're just two travelers. Totally normal. Totally boring."
"Nothing about you is normal or boring," she hissed back.
Asura just chuckled, his golden eyes glittering beneath the shadow of his hood.
The streets bustled with noise. Merchants shouted from stalls laden with ore and crystals. Adventurers lounged by taverns, blades strapped to their backs. Blacksmiths hammered in open forges, sparks flying like stars in daylight.
Asura's gaze locked instantly on a stall displaying chunks of black ore shot through with faint red veins. His system pinged faintly in his mind:
[Material Identified: Bloodsteel Ore.]
[Perfect for forging high-mana conductivity weapons.]
Asura smirked. "Jackpot."
Selene followed his gaze, then narrowed her eyes. "Young master. Don't—"
But he was already striding forward.
The merchant squinted at him. "Kid, this ore ain't for play. Costs more than your village's whole harvest."
Asura pulled out a pouch of coins—spoils he had not exactly acquired legally from a few drunken adventurers weeks prior. He dropped it onto the counter with a heavy clink.
The merchant's eyes widened. "…Where in the hells did a brat like you get this?"
Asura grinned, lowering his voice. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Selene's hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Forgive my brother," she said smoothly, voice cold and formal. "He inherited more coin than sense. We'll take the ore."
The merchant muttered but handed it over, still staring at the boy's too-sharp smile.
Hours passed as they moved through Grayhaven's markets. They gathered tempered mythril, stormglass crystals, and enchanted ash-wood suitable for hilts. Selene did most of the talking—her tone calm, professional, perfectly human.
Asura, however, nearly gave them away twice: once when he casually identified a rare mineral without being told its name, and again when he muttered, "This will be perfect for katana forging," loud enough for two adventurers to hear.
"Kata-what?" one of them asked.
Asura froze. "…Uh. Soup spoon. I meant soup spoon forging. I'm making spoons."
The adventurers squinted, then shrugged and walked off, muttering about "weird kids."
Selene waited until they were alone in an alley before hissing at him, "Spoons? Really?"
Asura puffed out his cheeks. "Hey, it worked!"
Selene pinched the bridge of her nose. "You are going to be the death of me."
By the time night fell, their packs were heavy with rare materials. They slipped into a quiet inn at the edge of the city, Selene insisting they avoid unnecessary attention.
Asura sat on the bed, staring at the bundles of ore, wood, and crystal stacked by the wall. His golden eyes gleamed.
"Six blades," he whispered. "I finally have what I need."
Selene glanced at him from the corner of the room, her expression unreadable. "…I pray to every god and demon alike that you do not."
But Asura only smiled wider, already imagining the future.
✦ The First Blade
The forge Selene had secured for them was little more than a rundown smithy on the outskirts of Grayhaven. The owner, an old blacksmith half-blind in one eye, had been paid enough gold to keep silent about the strange pair who rented his workshop for the night.
The room smelled of soot and molten iron. Tools hung along the walls—hammers, tongs, chisels—each one dulled from years of use. The furnace glowed, its orange light washing the chamber in heat.
Asura stood before it, sleeves rolled up, his golden eyes alight. Before him lay the materials:
Bloodsteel Ore, veins pulsing faintly with mana.Mithril shards, glittering like starlight.Stormglass crystals that hummed faintly when touched.Ash-wood handles, strong enough to withstand mana flow.
And beside them all,—a weapon crystal, gleaming faintly in the firelight.
Asura's lips curled into a grin. "Time to make history."
Selene leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching him. "Do you even know what you're doing?"
He smirked. "Nope. But my system does."
The old blacksmith snorted from his chair in the corner. "Boy, even if your hands don't know, the forge does. Metal remembers. Treat it wrong, it'll shatter on you."
Asura just raised the Bloodsteel in his hands. "Then I'll treat it right."
He began.
The ore glowed red in the furnace. Sparks leapt with every strike of the hammer. Sweat streamed down his brow, but his grin never faded. He wasn't just hammering metal—he was weaving intent into it.
The system flared with every strike:
Crafting Proficiency Increased!
Master Crafter – Intermediate.
Unique Concept Detected: Demon Katana Forging.
Asura's heart pounded. "Yes… yes!"
Selene's eyes widened. She could feel it too—the rhythm of his strikes wasn't random. It was alive. The air thickened, charged with mana.
Hours passed.
At last, he quenched the blade in enchanted oil, steam hissing like a serpent. When he raised it, the forge-light gleamed along a flawless edge. The katana was black as night, its surface rippling faintly with crimson veins of Bloodsteel.
The system chimed again.
Weapon Forged: Demonfang – Prototype Katana.
Quality: Legendary.
Bound to: Asura Satomi.
And then—
Weapon Crystal Detected. Would you like to bind it?
Asura grinned. "Oh hell yea!"
The crystal dissolved into the blade. The katana pulsed, its veins glowing brighter. The air shook faintly around it.
Selene stepped forward, her violet eyes narrowing in awe. "…It feels alive."
Asura swung once. The air split. A perfect crescent slash etched across the forge wall.
He exhaled, his grin turning feral.
"One down. Five to go."
✦ The First Strike
The forest beyond Grayhaven was quiet, too quiet. The night air smelled of damp earth, every branch creaking like a warning. Selene walked close at Asura's side, her hand on the hilt of her dagger, her violet eyes scanning the shadows.
"Are you certain about this?" she asked softly. "You've barely finished forging that blade."
Asura's golden eyes gleamed, reflecting the faint moonlight. "That's exactly why. A weapon isn't proven in a forge. It's proven in battle."
He rested his hand on the new katana at his side—Demonfang. Even she could feel it humming with restrained power, a low vibration that prickled against her skin.
They didn't have to wait long.
The trees ahead shuddered as a pack of Mana-Twisted Ogres lumbered into the clearing. Their skin was a sickly green-gray, veins glowing faintly with corrupted energy. Horns jutted from their foreheads, and each carried a rusted club heavy enough to smash stone.
Selene's eyes narrowed. "Rank B… maybe low A. Enough to kill careless adventurers."
Asura's grin widened. "Perfect test subjects."
The ogres roared, charging. The ground trembled beneath their steps.
Asura drew Demonfang. The blade whispered as it left the sheath, glowing faintly along its black-crimson edge. His system chimed in his mind:
Weapon Recognized – Demonfang Katana.
Unique Skill Activated: Crimson Rend.
Selene tensed, aura flaring around her as she prepared to fight. But then—
SHHHK.
Asura swung once.
The air itself split apart, a crescent of crimson light screaming through the clearing. The ogres froze mid-charge. For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
BOOOOM.
Their bodies fell in unison, sliced cleanly in two. Trees behind them toppled, cut through as if by an invisible scythe. The earth bore a deep scar where the slash had traveled, glowing faintly with demonic heat.
Selene's breath caught. "…With a single swing."
Asura exhaled, steadying his stance. His grin was calm, but his golden eyes burned with triumph. "Better than I imagined."
The remaining ogres roared in fury, charging blindly. Asura's body blurred forward—Shadow Rift Step—and in an instant, he was among them.
Every slash was faster than her eyes could track. Demonfang sang as it carved arcs of destruction. Each strike carried not only raw sharpness, but the fury of bloodsteel and the resonance of the weapon crystal.
The forest lit crimson with every cut. Monsters screamed. Limbs fell. The night became a storm of blades.
And when the silence returned, the clearing was painted with ruin. The ogres lay broken, their corrupted mana dispersing into the air like smoke.
Asura slid the blade back into its sheath with a soft click.
Selene stood frozen, her chest tight. She had known he was powerful. She had watched him train for years. But this… this was something else entirely.
That blade was not just a weapon. In his hands, it was devastation.
"Young master…" she whispered, almost to herself. "…what are you becoming?"
Asura turned to her, his grin softer now, though his eyes betrayed the fire inside.
"Stronger," he said simply. "Strong enough to never run again."
Selene's lips parted, but no words came. For the first time, she truly feared not just the monsters that stalked the dark—but the boy standing beside her.