When the carriage finally stopped, Azazul was jolted awake from his slumber. He tried to drift back to sleep, but Matthew's voice cut that plan short.
"Azazul, we're here."
Damn… already? I was aiming for at least a few more hours.
He obviously couldn't say that out loud, so he replied in an even tone,
"Well… it's about time."
Matthew stepped out first, and Azazul followed. The view that greeted him was breathtaking — even the monster-infested mountains looked beautiful.
Before him stood three towering peaks: the tallest in the center, the second-highest to its left, both reaching into the clouds, and the smallest peak on the right still tall enough to put most other mountains to shame. At their base was a stone village — small, but dense with shops and inns. The mountains cast a shadow over it, but the lantern-lit streets made the entire village glow warmly. A clear river flowed to the right, bordered by a lush forest that only added to the scenery.
Azazul could only stare in awe.
He snapped out of it and asked,
"So… that village will be our home?"
Still staring at the mountains, Matthew replied in a calm voice,
"No."
No? What does that mean?
"No? So we're staying in one of the monster caves for the night?"
"Yes. Something like that."
Damn... does he know I was joking?
"Uncle…?"
Matthew finally tore his eyes from the mountains. "Yes, Azazul?"
"You do know I was joking… right?"
"Yes, I know. But we are still going to enjoy the comfort of the monster caves."
"Well… I guess I'm dying today then, huh?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Isn't it obvious? You're dragging a seven-year-old up a monster-infested mountain where the only escape route is jumping to my death from who-knows how high."
He patted around his shoulders.
"Unless I have wings I don't know about."
Matthew let out a small chuckle. "Since the sun is almost down, we'll stay in the village tonight. You can rest or explore. We'll head up the mountain in the morning."
"You know postponing my death doesn't make it easier…"
Matthew laughed again but didn't reply. He lifted their luggage and headed toward the village; Azazul followed.
At the inn, Matthew booked two rooms. He handed Azazul a key and led him to the pair of neighboring doors.
Inside Azazul's room, a brown carpet covered the floor. A single bed with white sheets sat beneath a window. Two lanterns glowed on opposite walls, and a small bedside table held a lone candle. Azazul set his bags on the carpet, still holding the long red box. He placed it on the bed, knelt down, and opened it.
Inside lay a beautiful sword. The sheath was a deep black, the guard the same shade with blue lining along its edges. The hilt was simple — black and white — but the blade…
Azazul tried pulling the sword out.
It didn't budge.He tried again. Nothing.
He adjusted his grip, fingers brushing the guard — and felt a small prick. He dropped the sword in surprise, and a single drop of his blood hit the sheath… and vanished, absorbed instantly.The tiny wound healed on its own.
Azazul picked the sword up again and tried unsheathing it.This time it slid out like silk.
The blade glowed with a vibrant electric blue. Under the hilt were carved words:
"Fallen but not dead."
"That's… kinda creepy."
A tachi, huh?
Not a katana — those were shorter. He remembered Meira explaining it once.
He held the sword downward; the blade tapped the floor, then adjusted itself — rising just enough to match the height of his seven-year-old body.
"That's so cool… what else can you do?"
Through the window he spotted one of the smaller hills and felt curiosity spark.
I need to test this. But what if Uncle finds out? And… what if something goes wrong? Well, worst case i die, I'll heal… probably.
He sheathed the blade, held it in his left hand, and slipped out quietly.
The village streets were lively even at night: adventurers in armor, merchants, ordinary townsfolk with daggers at their belts. People stared openly — partly because of his noble clothing and strange eyes, but mostly because of the unmistakably expensive sword in his hand. As he approached the village exit, someone yelled:
"Hey! Kid with the weird eyes!"
He looked right and saw a girl around his age. A black cloak with a hood obscured her face, a dagger strapped to her belt. Her voice was soft, almost musical.
She pulled her hood down, revealing long black hair and striking blue eyes. A little pale, but undeniably pretty.
She gave him a once-over and said,
"Well, your eyes aren't the only weird thing about you."
Huh? What does that mean…? Oh. The clothes.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean your clothes, doofus. What else?"
Thought so…
"So where are you going? It's pretty late for a kid to walk around. Especially with a beauty like that."
Beauty — she means the sword, right?
"First of all, I doubt you're older than me. Second, I'm just going outside to try out this 'beauty.'"
"Well then…" She grinned. "Let's go."
"Huh? You want to come with me?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"You don't even know me. And—don't your parents care that you're out this late?"
She shrugged. "What's your name?"
"Azazul. And you are…?"
"Not only are your clothes and eyes weird, but your name too. Weirdo."
She jabbed a thumb at herself.
"I'm Akiko. But you can call me Aki."
Over my dead body.
"Sure…"
"As for parents—don't have any. My foster dad's probably drunk until sunrise."
Azazul's expression softened.
"Yeah… I don't have parents either. I'm here with my uncle."
Akiko frowned, then nudged him with her shoulder.
"Oh. Well… let's not drown in our crappy lives. Come on — let's go kill some monsters."
Azazul let out a small laugh and continued toward the forest — with his new companion beside him.