Chapter 2 — Shadow Dance
The road to the capital twisted through dense woods and open plains, dotted with sleepy villages.
Synoh adjusted the old sword on his back, feeling the heavy weight of his dream — and his promise to Synix — in every step.
Tomorrow, he would reach the capital gates.
Tomorrow, he would enroll at the Knight Academy.
He smiled to himself.
He was ready.
Or so he thought.
---
As he neared a village nestled at the foot of the hills, black smoke curled into the sky.
Shouts. Screams.
The smell of blood.
Synoh broke into a run.
The village was under attack — not by monsters, but by armed bandits, their leader a mage cloaked in blood-red robes.
Men and women cried for help as homes burned. A few farmers tried to fight back, but they were no match for magic.
Synoh's hands tightened around his sword hilt.
He couldn't just walk away.
---
The first wave of bandits rushed him.
Synoh moved like a shadow.
He sidestepped a thrusting spear, cutting low and fast —
slashed through another man's guard without stopping —
weaved through strikes like a leaf in the wind.
Shadow Dance Sword Style.
A style built not on brute strength, but on speed, precision, and reading the flow of battle.
By the time Synoh stopped moving, five men lay groaning on the ground.
The villagers stared in awe.
"Who is that boy?"
"He's like... like a demon!"
But Synoh wasn't done.
At the heart of the chaos, the mage leader raised his staff, sneering.
"So, a little brat wants to play hero?" he snarled.
He chanted quickly, magic circles glowing beneath his feet.
Bolts of fire and shards of ice ripped toward Synoh.
He tried to dodge — he was fast — but not fast enough.
Pain exploded across his side as a fire bolt grazed him, spinning him to the ground.
Another hit his leg. Another across his back.
His sword clattered from his hand.
"Damn it!" Synoh gasped, trying to summon a shield — but his magic sputtered weakly, barely forming sparks.
His vision blurred.
He reached desperately for his sword — the sword that Synix had left him.
And something answered.
A deep, rumbling voice inside his mind.
"Let me help you, partner."
Fel.
Synoh's hand touched the hilt — and black mist exploded from the blade.
Fel's soul, wild and loyal, surged into the weapon.
The sword pulsed, coated now in swirling black magic, shadows wrapping around the blade like living tendrils.
Synoh stood.
His body felt light — faster, stronger, sharper.
The mage's eyes widened.
"W-What are you?!"
Synoh said nothing.
He moved.
One slash — the magic barriers shattered.
A second slash — the mage's staff snapped in two.
The third — the mage fell, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The battle was over.
The villagers rushed forward, lifting Synoh on their shoulders, cheering his name.
He had saved them.
---
Later, As Night Fell...
Synoh sat alone on a hill outside the village, the blackened sword lying across his lap.
"Fel... what happened?" he whispered.
The sword pulsed faintly, and Fel's voice — still gruff but strangely comforting — echoed in his mind.
"I merged with the sword to protect you.
Don't worry — I'm still me."
Synoh blinked. "But... how do we separate you?"
Fel laughed softly. "Maybe someday. But for now... it's better this way.
You can't go to the Knight Academy with a giant wolf following you around. Humans get weird about things like that."
Synoh chuckled weakly.
"You're right," he said, gazing up at the stars.
In the distance, the capital's lights glimmered on the horizon.
Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin.
And he wouldn't walk it alone.
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(End of Chapter 2)