Victor came rushing back around next evening, boots kicking up dust as he crossed the yard, a long bundle wrapped in cloth clutched under his arm like something fragile and precious. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion, hair a mess, soot still smudged along his jaw and neck—but his eyes were alive in a way they hadn't been for days. Bright, sharp, and proud.
At the edge of the clearing, Raul and Mina sat with Arin, half-lounging, half-arguing. The heat had finally bled out of the day, and with it went any urgency. What remained was lazy conversation and the comfort of shared exhaustion.
"…I'm just saying," Raul muttered, nudging a pebble with his toe, "three thousand Lord Coins sounds fake when you say it out loud."
"It only sounds fake because we never thought numbers like that were meant for us," Mina said. "Back when we were Soldier Rank, a thousand coins felt impossible. Now we've got three times that."
She glanced at him. "That is progress."
Arin chuckled, shaking his head. "You two cleared a scorpion den in hours. We were already at twenty-nine hundred from lizard hunting—now we're sitting at thirty-two twenty-four."
Raul shrugged. "One Captain Rank Black Scorpion. Mina handled that." He tilted his head toward her. "I just made sure nothing else got any bright ideas."
Mina leaned back on her hands, stretching her shoulders. "Six Captain souls now," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "Still nowhere near enough, but… progress."
That was when Victor cleared his throat.
"Guys," he said, voice hoarse but steady. "Look at what I made."
All three of them turned.
Arin was on his feet instantly.
Victor stopped in front of them and carefully lowered the wrapped bundle onto the low table between them. For a moment, he just stood there, breathing hard, as if the weight of the last five days were finally catching up to him.
Then, slowly—almost reverently—he began to unwrap the cloth.
What emerged wasn't just a sword.
It was a statement.
Midnight Howl had always been practical. Clean. Balanced. A weapon made to survive, not to be admired. But this… this was something else entirely.
The blade gleamed white, not so much reflective. It looked as pure, freshly fallen snow hardened into steel. Along its edges ran a thin, dark outline—black iron infused with Black Aetherite, swallowing light rather than catching it. The contrast was striking, almost unsettling, like dawn cutting through the last remnants of night.
The handle matched, white beneath tightly wrapped leather, the grip firm and natural, as if shaped for Arin's hand specifically.
Arin swallowed.
"…Victor."
Victor smiled tiredly. "I reforged it completely," he said. "Black iron steel base, reinforced with White Aetherite through the body to cut weight without compromising structure. For the edge, I mixed black iron steel with Black Aetherite. Separate reinforcement to make it extremely sharp."
Raul leaned closer, eyes wide. "It looks… unreal."
"It is unreal," Victor replied flatly. "That's the point."
He nudged the sword forward. "It's sharp enough to cut stone like butter. Arin. Try it."
Arin hesitated only a second before reaching out.
The moment his fingers closed around the grip, he froze.
"…What the hell," he breathed.
He lifted it, testing the balance, then paused. "It's… light."
Raul leaned forward, clearly pleased. "Yeah? What's it feel like?"
Arin laughed under his breath. "Like a feather. Feels like it's barely there."
He stood, stepped away from the table, and walked over to a flat stone embedded near the edge of the yard. Carefully, almost nervously, he lowered the blade until it rested against the rock.
He didn't push.
The sword slid through on its own.
No resistance. No sound. Just a clean, effortless separation, the stone parting as if it had been waiting for permission.
Arin stared.
"…No way."
He turned, found a larger rock, raised the blade, and slashed.
The stone split like paper.
Raul's mouth fell open. Mina's eyes widened despite herself.
They could break rock like that, sure—but it would take force, also, they were Captain Ranks now.
But Arin had barely moved.
"This…" Arin laughed, breathless, almost disbelieving. "This is unbelievable."
Victor folded his arms, satisfaction settling into his bones. "I told you. Aetherite isn't just rare—it's transformative. Ordinary craftsmen spend lifetimes dreaming about touching this stuff."
Raul let out a low whistle. "You should rename your sword," he said. "That's not Midnight Howl anymore."
Mina nodded immediately. "Yeah. It's a different weapon now."
Victor tilted his head, considering.
"…How about," he said slowly, "First Dawn?"
Arin's grin spread wide. "That sounds epic."
Victor nodded, a little more firmly now. "It fits. My first true Dawn-series weapon. Midnight was survival. Dawn is… growth."
Raul clapped his hands together. "Alright, naming ceremony's done. Work on my daggers next."
Mina's head snapped toward him. "Excuse you?"
Raul blinked. "What?"
"You are still training," Mina said flatly. "I need upgraded weapons now."
"Oh hell no." Raul snapped back.
Arin cut in immediately. "No fighting like children. We're settling it like adults."
Raul closed his eyes. "I hate that this always means rock, paper, scissors."
Mina smirked. "Why? Afraid?"
"Best of three," Raul said.
They went and,
Raul won.
Mina stared at him, eyes narrowing. "…You cheated."
Raul shrugged, unapologetic. "Of course I did. You were going scissors."
"You should be ashamed of yourself," Mina snapped. "Using Prime Augury on rock-paper-scissors?"
"It's not cheating," Raul said smugly. "It's using available resources."
Victor sighed loudly. "Enough. Both of you hand them over."
Mina immediately brightened and passed him Midnight Flash and Midnight Dew. Raul followed suit with Midnight Whistle, still grinning.
Victor gathered the weapons and turned back toward the smithy without another word.
When he was gone, Arin glanced down at his interface.
Victor — Soldier (96%)
So close.
Arin leaned back, watching the sun dip lower, the pale glow of First Dawn still resting against the table.