The sun hung low over a quiet village. On the outskirts of a small, dust-filled playground, a boy sat alone — legs skinny, arms bruised, breath shaky.
"You're too weak, Yuki! Go home before you pass out again!"The other boys laughed and ran ahead, leaving him in the dust.
Yuki didn't reply. He simply looked down at his trembling hands, pulling at his worn shirt, staring at the ribs that poked from beneath.
"…Why am I like this?" he whispered to no one.
BOOM!
A different sound now. Not laughter. Not pain.
A head slammed into the arena floor, rolling, lifeless.
Kaven.A god-tier warrior. The untouchable Ethereal Deity.
Now… dead.
The once-roaring coliseum fell into a suffocating silence. Not a breath. Not a whisper.
Only one figure stood in the center — his cloak torn at the shoulder, his mask cracked at the edge. His blade, Inferna Soul, dripped with divine blood.
Ryn.
The rookie.The nameless.The boy they had all ignored.
Across the world, silence turned into disbelief.
In a quiet farming village, a girl dropped her bucket of water. Her lips trembled.
"...That boy…"
In the golden capital of Goldengrave, Stella's eyes widened, breath stolen. Her heart clenched.
In the royal section of the arena, Lyra gripped the railing tightly.
"...I don't know who he is," she whispered. "But… this presence... feels familiar. It feels like..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Y-YOU MONSTER!!"
A ranker screamed, voice cracking from shock.
"Do you even know who you just killed?! That was Kaven, damn it!"
Another voice followed, filled with rage and disbelief."Who the hell ARE YOU?! Answer us!!"
Ryn didn't move. His chest rose and fell slowly. His blade lowered.
He stared at the blood. His hands. His blade.
"...Why did I kill him?"
For a moment, the question wasn't directed at them.It was to himself.
But the doubt didn't last long.
Ryn raised his sword high — not with pride, but with clarity.
He had won.
Even if he didn't fully understand why.
And then — in the blink of an eye —
He vanished.
From the shadows above, Manda tilted her head and let out a quiet laugh.
"That man… is going to be a serious threat to this world."
And then, she too disappeared into the night.
Lights flashed back on. The announcer, caught somewhere between shock and duty, forced a smile as he stepped onto the hovering podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen across the world...""We have finally found the holder of the sword."
He paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in.
"See you all... next time, in a different place... at a different time!"
The broadcast ended.
But the world would not forget.
In the aftermath, elite rankers huddled together in silence.
"For a sword that's supposed to be ordinary," one of them muttered, "we just saw a god die."
Another spoke, voice low."…I don't think that sword is ordinary at all."
"What do you think comes next?"
"…I don't know. But I'll be watching that rookie closely."
Far away, under a different moon, a girl stood alone on a grassy hill.
Her eyes glowed faintly in the night, and her voice was soft.
"Ryn, huh? That's a sweet name of yours… Mr. Hunter."
She smiled to herself, the wind playing with her hair.
Somewhere, under that same sky, Ryn walked forward. Quietly.
No cheering. No praise. No answers.
Just his footsteps.
Just the night.
And the path ahead — lit only by the silver glow of the moon.