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Chapter 12 - true ending

The mist rolled low over the training field behind the bar. It wasn't anything grand — just a patch of open land lined by trees, softened by grass, and marked by years of sparring.

But tonight, it felt sacred.

Two sisters stood across from each other, sabers gleaming in hand.

Each weapon pulsed with barely-contained strength — forged by an ancient hand, a master's soul, and a father's love.

Alaric leaned against a wooden post, arms crossed. "Alright," he said. "No more testing. You two — fight."

Rin smirked. Rae cracked her neck.

Brehn blinked. "Wait, fight each other?"

"Exactly," Alaric said. "Spar. No holding back. If you break the weapons, I'll make you mop the forge."

"But—"

"Begin."

The clash was immediate.

Rae exploded forward, raw and fast. Rin met her halfway, calm and coiled like a drawn bowstring. Their sabers shrieked as they collided — not with steel, but with spirit.

The forged blades glowed.

Not unnaturally.

Just enough to show they wanted this.

Rin spun low, her saber sweeping with wind-imbued grace. Rae responded with sheer force — sparks flew as she blocked, pivoted, and hammered down.

They'd trained under the same master.

But now, with real weapons in their hands — blades born for them — their identities came alive.

One danced.

The other hunted.

The field cracked under their feet.

"Good," the master said behind Alaric. "Rin's faster, but Rae's instinct is sharper now."

Alaric nodded. "She almost took her leg."

The two sisters moved like lightning, their movements almost too fast for Mira and Nico to follow from the edge of the clearing.

Rae flipped backward and rebounded from a tree, bringing her saber in a wide arc. Rin caught it with her blade's flat edge, twisting, redirecting the blow—

CRACK.

Both were blown back several meters.

Sweat ran down their faces. They stared at each other. Breathing heavy.

Then both smiled.

They charged again.

[SYSTEM MESSAGE]

Quest Completed: Forge the Swords of the Blade Disciples

Reward Granted: Enlightenment – Step One: Forgiveness

Your path begins.

[NO FURTHER SYSTEM MESSAGES FOR THIS QUEST]

Rin feinted left — Rae took the bait.

The duel ended with Rin's saber pointed at Rae's throat, both sisters grinning despite their bruises.

"I won," Rin said, smug.

Rae rolled her eyes. "That was a draw."

"You were on your back."

"I was resting."

Alaric stepped forward. "Enough. The weapons held. Your bond did too."

He looked down at their blades — still unmarred, still steady.

Perfect.

That night, under the flickering lanterns of the bar, the family gathered again. Food. Laughter. Brehn grilling meat. Mira pestering Nico to try spicy sauce. The sisters pretending not to be sore.

And Alaric — seated under the edge of the porch, arms behind his head, watching them all.

Elsewhere…

A sigil flared red inside a forgotten cathedral — its surface cracked with age, but pulsing with fresh, corrupted mana.

Two Black Snake enforcers knelt before a robed figure, head bowed.

"He's alive. The footage confirmed it."

"The one from the alley… it was him."

"The guilds know?" the robed figure asked.

"Yes. White Tiger's seen him with their own eyes."

A pause.

Then, the voice came cold.

"Do we know where he is now?"

"Yes, sir."

The figure stood, slowly turning to face them. His face was veiled, but his aura alone made the air curdle.

"Then kill him."

"But—he already killed two of our own—"

"Exactly."

The room darkened.

"Kill him before he becomes more than a ghost. Before the world realizes what's walking among them."

The robed figure's presence twisted the air like smoke wrapping a dying flame.

One of the kneeling Black Snake enforcers lifted his head slightly.

"But… sir—what should we do about the White Tiger Guild?"

Another added, voice shaking, "The SSS-rank Murim Master is there too. He's arrived with the Two Blade Sisters — his disciples. If they get involved…"

Silence.

Then a slow breath, as though the robed man was tired of hearing incompetence.

"I don't care if they're blessed by the gods themselves."

He turned, robes trailing ash across the stone floor.

"You don't fight them. You don't provoke them."

He stopped before a darkened brazier and placed one hand above the flame.

"You kill the threat before he joins them."

Flames roared — the sigil burned crimson.

"And if you can't… then die quietly. Like the other two did."

The enforcers bowed deeper, sweat dripping down their temples.

"Yes, sir."

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