The Reaver's silhouette shambled into view — huge, twisted, its once-human face stretched into something that barely resembled a skull. Bits of an old school uniform still clung to its shoulders, tattered and soaked dark red. Its sword — if it could even be called that now — was a grotesque, jagged thing, fused with veins of pulsing red light.
Takumi felt his breath catch in his throat. Every step the Reaver took scraped metal claws against the marble floor, leaving sparks and deep scratches. Its eyes — two sunken pits burning like embers — locked onto the three of them behind the broken wall.
> "Don't move," Akari hissed. She planted her foot carefully on the cracked stone, keeping her sword raised but steady.
The Reaver's head twitched sharply to one side — then back. Its mouth cracked open, leaking a low, animalistic hiss.
Tenma shivered so violently he nearly dropped his dull blade. "We… we can't fight that… Takumi, we can't—"
Takumi didn't answer. His fingers gripped the hilt of his S-Rank sword tighter, knuckles going white. His ribs burned with every breath. But he forced himself to breathe slowly, like his kendo coach used to tell him.
One swing at the right moment is worth more than a thousand wild strikes.
Akari's eyes flicked between the monster's movements, searching for patterns. "It's slow. Heavy. Don't panic. We bait it. Takumi — hit from the side. Tenma, stay behind me. Watch for openings. If you can stab it, do it."
Tenma looked at her as if she were insane. "Stab it? With this? This thing couldn't even cut an apple!"
Akari's gaze snapped to him. Her voice was sharp, cutting through his panic. "Then aim for a weak spot. Its eyes, its neck — anywhere soft. Your blade might be weak, but your will can't be."
The Reaver let out a low snarl — then lunged.
It was fast — faster than its hulking size suggested. Clawed feet cracked the marble floor as it barrelled toward them.
Akari shoved Tenma behind her and met the monster head-on, deflecting the first blow with a precise clash of steel. Sparks exploded. The Reaver's monstrous sword slammed into the pillar behind her, sending ancient stone splintering into the air.
Takumi darted to the side, his S-Rank sword humming as he swung at the Reaver's exposed flank. The blade connected — slicing deep — but instead of falling, the Reaver barely flinched. It backhanded Takumi with bone-crushing force. He stumbled, hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.
> "Takumi!" Tenma cried out, but Akari grabbed his shoulder, keeping him from running out.
> "Stay back! We keep moving — don't let it pin us down!"
The Reaver roared — a horrible, gargling sound — and slammed its blade down toward Akari. She twisted to the side, her own blade glancing off the monster's wrist. Black, corrupted blood splattered the cracked stone.
But the Reaver was tireless. It swung again — wide, powerful arcs that forced Akari to retreat. A single wrong step would mean instant death.
Takumi coughed, trying to pull himself up on trembling arms. His eyes met Tenma's — desperate, pained — but still burning with the same spark he'd always had. Don't give up, that look said. We're not done.
Tenma felt something twist painfully in his chest. He looked down at the chipped, worthless blade clutched in his hands — the sword that everyone had laughed at. The sword that was supposed to be a death sentence.
His vision flicked back to the Reaver — its ruined flesh, its burning eyes, its heavy breathing. He remembered what Akari said: Aim for a weak spot.
And he realized — the monster's movements, though fast, were predictable. Its eyes — those embers — were unprotected every time it howled.
He didn't think. He ran.
Akari's eyes widened. "Tenma — wait!"
The Reaver raised its massive, jagged blade, locking onto Tenma as he charged straight into its swing. In that instant, time seemed to stretch — Tenma saw the blade arcing down, saw Takumi reaching for him, saw Akari's mouth open in a scream.
But he didn't stop. He threw himself forward, rolled under the swing, and jammed his chipped sword up — right into the Reaver's exposed throat.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the Reaver jerked violently. Its roar died in a wet, choking gurgle. It staggered back, black ichor gushing from its neck where Tenma's pathetic blade was buried up to the hilt.
The corrupted light in its eyes flickered — and then, like dying embers, it went out. The monster crumpled to the floor, its massive sword falling with a final, heavy clang.
Silence.
Tenma collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, hands shaking uncontrollably. His sword — the weakest blade — was still lodged in the monster's throat. And yet… it had killed it.
Takumi pushed himself up, limped over, and pulled Tenma into a rough, breathless hug. "You idiot…! That was insane!"
Akari kicked the Reaver's corpse once to be sure. She flicked the black blood off her blade and looked at Tenma — really looked at him — a hint of genuine respect in her sharp eyes.
> "Not bad, weak sword."
Tenma could barely hear them over the rush of his own heartbeat. But when he looked down at his sword, something about it felt different — like a faint warmth pulsing through the hilt, sinking into his skin. He tugged it free, staring at the dull blade now coated in the monster's corrupted blood.
> Maybe it really isn't worthless after all…
Before he could process the thought, the dead Reaver's body shuddered. A faint, ghostly light — its core — drifted out, hovering above the ruined corpse.
Akari gestured at it, looking at Tenma. "You killed it. The core's yours. Take it — before someone else does."
Takumi nodded, his grin wide despite the bruise blooming on his cheek. "Go on. Do it."
Tenma reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the ghostly light, he felt a surge — not painful, but powerful — a rush of energy filling his chest, running through his veins like liquid fire.
The chipped blade in his hand shimmered, just for a heartbeat — like it was… awakening.
Akari's eyes narrowed. "Looks like the weakest sword might have secrets after all."
Tenma stared at the faintly glowing blade, still dull, still chipped — but now, for the first time, he didn't feel worthless holding it.
Above the ruined temple, the crimson sky seemed to pulse with a distant rumble — like laughter, or applause, or the growl of something ancient that was watching… waiting for the next move in this brutal game.
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To be continued…