The Ice Hound lunged.
Darwin barely had time to flinch before the beast's shadow swallowed him whole. Its massive body crashed through the snow, claws extended, jaws wide enough to crush him in half.
Instinct screamed at him to move.
His legs obeyed—barely.
Darwin dove to the left, rolling through the snow. Pain tore through his back where the previous wound reopened. Warm blood soaked into the cold white ground.
"Ah—!"
He stumbled to his feet, clutching the small rabbit corpse in one hand and his dull knife in the other. The combination looked pitiful—laughable—compared to the monstrous creature before him.
The Ice Hound growled, breath fogging the air. Frost formed around its fangs.
It stepped closer.
Darwin's knees trembled.
*I can't outrun it.
I can't fight it.
I can't—*
His thoughts spiraled into panic.
The beast lowered its stance.
**It was going to pounce.**
Darwin lifted the knife with shaking fingers.
It looked tiny, useless.
He knew—everyone knew—this blade wouldn't even pierce the Ice Hound's fur.
His breath hitched.
"…Why… why again…"
Why was he always being chased?
Why was he always the one left behind?
Why was he the one discarded, the one forgotten, the one born wrong?
The beast roared, charging.
Darwin's mind fractured.
He thought of his mother's cold, indifferent eyes.
His father's silence.
Auria's brilliance and how everyone praised her.
The servants whispering about "the child born without a right arm."
The mockery.
The disappointment.
The loneliness.
Everything collapsed onto him at once.
He didn't scream.
He didn't run.
He simply closed his eyes and whispered—
"…I don't want to die."
The Ice Hound leaped.
Darwin raised the knife out of pure instinct—
And in that single moment—
**The pendant on his chest ignited.**
A pulse of purple light pulsed against his skin.
Then another.
Then a blinding flare erupted from the gem.
Darwin's eyes flew open—
Just in time to see purple flames swirl around his body, drawn into the air, spiraling like a vortex.
The Ice Hound sensed danger midair and tried to twist away—but it was too late.
The pendant burst.
A blade formed from the explosion of light—
long, black, and beautiful, like a shadow forged into steel. Purple veins ran through its edge, glowing like embers.
The katana manifested in Darwin's hand.
He didn't move the blade.
**The blade moved for him.**
*SHUNK.*
A clean, sharp strike cut through the Ice Hound's chest.
The beast's momentum carried it forward, but the slash was fatal.
It collapsed beside him, hot blood steaming against the cold air.
Darwin stood frozen, chest heaving, staring at the katana in disbelief.
"…I… I killed it…"
His knees buckled.
The katana was long—longer than any sword he'd ever seen up close—and perfectly balanced in his left hand. The hilt was wrapped in black cloth, the gem on the guard glowing faintly purple.
It wasn't heavy.
It felt like it belonged there.
Darwin's breath trembled.
This wasn't a dream.
This was the sword from the memory.
This was the blade his grandfather entrusted to him.
This was his fate manifesting in front of him.
He lifted it weakly.
The blade shimmered faintly, then—
*CRACK.*
It flickered.
Purple light dimmed.
The blade dissolved slowly into particles of black light.
"No—wait—!"
But it was too late.
The katana vanished completely, retreating back into the pendant which now lay silent against his chest, its glow fading.
Darwin stared blankly at the empty air where the sword once was.
His mind struggled to catch up.
"I… did it…" he whispered.
"I'm… alive…"
The world—finally—felt lighter.
But then—
*Blood.*
A warm sensation dripped down his back.
His vision blurred.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
"Oh… so tired…"
The adrenaline vanished.
The pain rushed in.
His limbs weakened.
He collapsed into the snow, face down, breathing ragged and shallow.
The Ice Hound's body lay beside him, already cooling.
Darwin's consciousness slipped.
His last thought as the darkness took him:
*Grandpa… was this… what you meant… by my will?*
And the world turned black.
---