Years slipped quietly through the cracks of Rion's life, like snow melting through fingers. The boy who had once clung to his father's teachings now moved as a shadow through the lands—known by a name whispered with dread: Black Crow.
The Golden Fang became his new home, though "home" was too gentle a word. It was a den of laughter, blood, arguments, and survival. At first, he stumbled—unused to noise, to shared meals, to people trying to understand him. But gradually, he found rhythm in the chaos.
He hid his real name.
He hid his face behind a black mask.
Only the captain who invited him in his team, Rylan, knew the truth.
And Rion preferred it that way.
Because the world seemed to like him better as a monster.
Whispers followed him everywhere.
"The Mad Slayer…"
"He enjoys killing."
"Don't look into his mask—his eyes are cursed."
None of them knew that every night, long after the campfires died, a soft metallic rhythm echoed from the training ground—the lonely sound of a sword cutting through the dark.
Tonight was no different.
The moon hung heavy and pale as Rion swung his blade again and again—until sweat dripped from his chin and breath scraped raw from his throat. But each swing wavered. Each stance trembled.
His father's technique…
The rhythm…
The heartbeat of his lineage…
Gone.
"Again…" he muttered, raising the sword. His hands shook. "Why can't I… remember anything?"
He swung—
Missed balance—
Stumbled.
"Again."
He lifted the blade—
A firm hand caught his wrist.
Rion froze, breath sharp. He turned.
Rylan stood there, hair messy from sleep, eyes heavy but sharp.
"Rion," he sighed, "look at the time. You're still out here?" His grip loosened, but his gaze did not. "Tell me the real reason."
Rion lowered his sword. For a moment, he couldn't speak. The words sat like stones in his throat.
"My father's technique…" he finally whispered. "I can't recall a single step. I trained so much with him. It was… everything he left me."
His voice cracked.
"How can I forget something like that?"
Rylan studied him—quietly, gently—like examining a wound no one else could see.
"This isn't your fault," he said at last. "Trauma buries things. Not your mind—your heart."
Rion blinked. "Trauma?"
"The day I met you," Rylan continued, "your hands trembled just from holding a blade. And when you killed for the first time… you vomited. Even now, you choose wand spells over the sword whenever you can."
Rion didn't deny it.
"You're not forgetting your father's technique," Rylan said softly. "Your guilt won't let you remember it."
Silence fell thick as snow.
"How do I fix it?" Rion asked.
"Close your eyes," Rylan said. "Remember the good moments. The warm ones. Then place them against the painful ones. Let the warmth burn the guilt. Slowly… the rhythm will return."
He patted Rion's shoulder.
"Now sleep. Tomorrow's a big mission."
When Rylan walked away, Rion remained standing alone beneath the pale moon. He stared at his sword—silent, patient.
"So that's it…" he murmured. "Then I'll keep swinging… until the rhythm comes back."
---
Morning brought noise, excitement, and anxious chatter. The Golden Fang had gathered before the city gates, ready to tackle a newly discovered labyrinth.
Black Crow arrived—silent, mask glinting coldly—and the entire group instinctively stepped aside.
"Is that him…?"
"Mad Slayer…"
"I heard he wiped out a whole nest alone."
"Is it true he snapped a wyvern's neck with one arm?"
"No way—"
"I heard he killed ten ogres in a single night."
"Do you think he's handsome behind the mask—?"
"Shut up! He might hear you!"
A short-haired blonde girl approached, her grey eyes sharp but curious.
Sarah.
An adventurer whose name was carried with equal fear and admiration. Her presence alone made some rookies straighten.
"So much chitchat." She crossed her arms. "Focus on the raid, not fantasies."
A couple of rookies whispered:
"That's Sarah, the lightning gale."
"Heard her kill count is even higher than Black Crow's…"
"No way, she's younger!"
Sarah walked straight to Rion, stopping close enough for their breaths to fog together.
"So," she said, walking right up to him, "you're pretty popular today. Especially among the girls."
Rion tilted his head. "Are you sure? They look like they're avoiding me."
Sarah snorted. "Avoiding? They're staring so hard, I'm surprised your mask isn't melting."
"…I highly doubt that."
"Oh trust me," she teased, leaning in, "you're a mystery. And girls love mysteries."
Rion went silent—not because he was embarrassed, but because he genuinely didn't understand what to say.
From behind them, Rylan shouted:
"I swear, you two look perfect for each other!"
Sarah's face lit red.
She kicked Rylan square in the knee.
"STOP SAYING NONSENSE, YOU IDIOT!"
"OW! I'M YOUR CAPTAIN!"
"You deserve it."
Rion blinked. "Is that… normal?"
"For him? Yes," Sarah muttered.
Finally, they reached the labyrinth. When they pulled the gate, it groaned open like the maw of some ancient, frozen beast. A surge of snowstorm winds blasted through the tunnel, howling like lost spirits, and a thick layer of frost clung to every stone as if the cold itself were alive.
Rylan raised his hand, outlining the plan:
"Black Crow—support role only."
"Sarah, Mira, and I take point."
"Baku, Blake, Jin—defense front."
"Everyone else stays mid-line and assists."
The labyrinth swallowed them whole.
Snow fell from the ceiling like ash.
Cold burned their lungs.
Monsters lunged from the blizzard—white fangs, white fur, white death.
But the Golden Fang held formation perfectly.
They cut through beasts, step by step, until they finally reached the final boss chamber—a vast frozen arena glowing faintly blue.
"We did it," Mira sighed. "The core items are close."
Then—
Something shifted.
A monstrous shape rose from beneath the snow—massive, horned, breathing ice.
The final boss.
They fought.
They slashed.
They shattered its glowing chest core.
It collapsed.
Victory cheers began—
And ended instantly.
A head flew into the air.
Then flame tore through their ranks—red, merciless, screaming light.
Adventurers burned.
Some died instantly.
Others rolled in agony.
The creature stood again, unharmed.
Rylan's eyes widened in horror.
"No… no, no—its chest—"
Four cores pulsed inside its ribcage like beating hearts.
His voice trembled.
"This… shouldn't be possible…"
"Rylan!" Sarah shouted. "What do we do!?"
He gritted his teeth.
As captain—he knew.
"I'll hold it off. Sarah, Black Crow—you run."
"What!?"
"No! Brother!" she cried.
But before she could take another step—
A dull thud.
Rion had struck the back of her neck, catching her before she fell.
He set her gently on the snow.
"You didn't have to knock her out…" Rylan whispered.
"She wouldn't listen," Rion said quietly. "And you know that."
Rylan looked at him with aching eyes.
"I already lost my brother. I won't lose my sister… and I won't lose you either."
He forced a smile.
"You remind me of him."
Rion swallowed hard.
"…I'll protect her."
"Good. Now go."
Rion turned, lifting Sarah into his arms.
Behind him, Rylan charged alone into the flames.
And died with a roar swallowed by flames.
---
Snow blocked the exit behind them—the labyrinth collapsing.
The boss approached, breath boiling the air.
Rion set Sarah down, lifted his wand, and whispered:
"Ignis Flarius!"
The air roared.
A colossal fireball formed overhead—heat ripping at his skin. He launched it with all the essence he had.
The explosion shook the cavern.
When the smoke cleared—
The boss still stood.
One core left.
Rion coughed blood. His knees trembled.
"I… barely have any essence left…"
His gaze shifted to Sarah.
"I'm sorry…"
He touched her hand—absorbing what tiny amount she had.
"It's not enough for another spell…"
So he reached for the sword.
His father's sword.
He closed his eyes.
The good memories came first—
Warm laughter.
Gentle hands.
His father's voice.
Then the horror—
Burning home.
His father dying.
His mother's corpse.
Villagers Scream.
His rhythm slipped—
But then Rylan's voice returned:
"Let the warm memories burn the guilt."
Heat rose in Rion's chest.
His sword glowed.
"It's… working—!"
He opened his eyes, filled with light and fury.
"This is your end!"
He charged.
One breath.
One perfect rhythm.
The slash tore through the earth—
Snow split—
Stone cracked open like shattered glass—
And the blade cleaved the monster's final core.
The beast collapsed.
So did Rion.
Darkness swallowed him.
Beside him, Sarah breathed softly—
Alive.
And the boy called Black Crow finally fell into the same silence as the snow around him.