As they walked, the warm sunlight cast a golden glow on the village streets, and the scent of blooming wildflowers wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of birds chirping and children laughing. They finally reached their crossroads, Cyan on his journey outside the village and Ryan on his own journey back home. The rustling of leaves and the creaking of wooden signs hung from the buildings added to the serene atmosphere.
"This is where we unfortunately part ways," Cyan said, his expression turning serious, his eyes locking onto Ryan's. Ryan's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes squinting as he said, "Let me tell you something before you go." His gaze switched towards Cyan's face, his eyes locking onto his, a hint of intensity in his voice.
Cyan's expression turned curious, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "Yes, what is it?" He looked back into Ryan's eyes, waiting to listen to his next words, his heart beating with anticipation. Ryan's expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto Cyan's, a sense of gravity in his voice.
"This is a warning, never ever, ever say those words again. That line about parting ways is mysterious as it is ominous since it's said by people who are leaving the world for good. So, whenever you find yourself in a situation like this someday, just say until next time or see you later. Just avoid saying that line, okay!" Ryan's words sent a shiver down Cyan's spine, his eyes widening in surprise as he swallowed a gulp of saliva. The warning that Ryan gave him was fiction found only in horror movies, but the sincerity in Ryan's eyes made him feel uneasy.
"I will keep that in mind," he said, his expression a mix of amusement and concern, his voice barely above a whisper. Ryan's expression turned firm, his eyes flashing with intensity. "Yeah, you better?!" he said, his voice firm but laced with a hint of humor.
Cyan chuckled, a playful grin spreading across his face, as he nodded his head in agreement. "So, until next time, then!" he said, walking away, heading in the opposite direction from Ryan, the sound of his boots echoing on the cobblestone street. Ryan's expression turned warm, a smile spreading across his face, as he watched Cyan walk away.
"Yeah, until next time, and good luck with training," he said, facing towards Cyan, who was currently walking away, his voice filled with sincerity. Cyan waved his hand without turning around, as they both made their way to their current task, the morning sunlight casting a warm glow on their parting ways.
As Cyan walked, his expression turned serious, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice, his eyes narrowing as he thought to himself. "Damn it, Randell is catching Z's, and Ryan is doing his own thing. Sigh, and I get to do that brutal training alone. Just my awful luck," he thought, his mind filled with frustration and determination.
Before Cyan made it outside the village walls, he dropped by Alaric's blacksmithing shop to collect the 300 arrows he ordered the previous day. The scent of hot metal and coal wafted through the air, mingling with the sound of hammering on metal and the hiss of steam as the hot metal was quenched in water.
"Good morning, old man," Cyan said, his voice cheerful, as he pushed open the door, the bell above it ringing out. Alaric's expression turned grumpy, his eyes narrowing as he thought to himself, "What's with this generation's young people? They have no respect at all." His gaze focused on Cyan, who was walking inside his store, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.
"Yes, good morning. You came for the collection, right?" Alaric asked, his voice gruff, as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a leather apron.
"Yes, assuming you are done, that is?" Cyan replied, his expression curious, as he gazed at Alaric, who was standing behind the counter, his eyes gleaming with pride. Alaric's expression turned proud, a hint of arrogance creeping into his voice, as he handed the arrows to Cyan. "Oh, please. I can forge six swords in one night. A few hundred arrows is barely a challenge worth a lot of time," he said, his voice filled with confidence.
Cyan gazed down at Alaric, who was short, and opened the cloth to verify the quality of the arrows, the sound of rustling fabric filling the air. The arrows were tied inside a cloth, and the cloth was heavy, the weight of the arrows evident in the way it sagged. Cyan placed the arrows on the ground and opened the cloth, his eyes widening in amazement, as the light from the shop's lanterns danced across the metal.
"Woah, these are great. No, it's more than great," Cyan said, his voice filled with excitement, as he ran his fingers over the arrows, feeling the weight and balance of each one. Alaric's expression turned proud, a smile spreading across his face, as he watched Cyan's reaction.
"Yes, a testament of my long years of experience," he said, his voice filled with pride, as he puffed out his chest. Cyan chuckled, a playful grin spreading across his face, as he shook his head in amusement. "No kidding," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Alaric's expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto Cyan's, as he leaned forward, his voice filled with excitement. "I have also added a special feature to the iron-tipped arrows. You only need to imbue the arrow with a very limited amount of aura, and it guarantees your aim," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Cyan's eyes widened in amazement, his voice barely above a whisper, as he stared at Alaric in awe. "Whoa, that's awesome!!" Alaric's expression turned proud, a smile spreading across his face, as he nodded in satisfaction.
"I know. Just use them well, and don't forget your end of the bargain," he said, his voice filled with warning, as he narrowed his eyes. Cyan's expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto Alaric's, as he nodded his head in agreement.
"You don't have to worry about that. I will give you the material. A man always keeps their promise," he said, his voice filled with determination, as he stood up straight, his shoulders squared.
Alaric's expression turned curious, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "Yes, they should. Anyway, how are you going to carry these? They are too heavy?" He said, gazing at the arrows, his eyes filled with concern.
Cyan's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes squinting as he replied, "I will pick them up when I return from training. If you are okay with that?" Alaric's expression turned agreeable, a nod accompanying his words, as he waved his hand in dismissal.
"Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out. You can even pick them up tomorrow if you want," he said, his voice filled with generosity, as he turned back to his workbench.
Cyan's expression turned grateful, a smile spreading across his face, as he nodded his head in thanks. "Thank you. I will be off now," he said, closing the cloth and turning around, placing them on the anvil, and starting to walk towards the exit, the sound of his boots echoing on the wooden floorboards.
Alaric's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes squinting as he said, "Before you leave, do me a favor, will you?" Cyan's expression turned curious, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "If it's something I can do, yeah, sure." Alaric's expression turned serious, his eyes locking onto Cyan's, as he pointed to a nearby barrel.
"I just want you to pick a sword of your choice in that barrel," he said, his voice filled with a hint of mystery, as he watched Cyan's reaction.
Cyan's expression turned surprised, his eyes widening in amazement, as he stared at the barrel, his mind racing with possibilities. "That's a bit too generous on your side. Tell me why you feel the need to butter me up?" Alaric's expression turned warm, a smile spreading across his face, as he shook his head.
"Nothing really, just a thank you for a long-time favor you did for me. Please, just pick whichever you like and accept my thanks," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, as he gestured towards the barrel.
Cyan's expression turned curious, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, as he walked towards the wine barrel that was firmly pressed against the wall, the sound of his boots echoing on the floor. The barrel contained a lot of swords, their blades glinting in the dim light of the shop, like a treasure trove of steel and leather.
"Wow, quite a pick I have," Cyan said, his voice filled with excitement, as he peered into the barrel, his eyes scanning the swords. "Are you sure I can choose whichever I like, or are you just messing around, old man?" he added, looking back at Alaric with suspicion, his eyes narrowed.
Alaric's expression turned gruff, his eyes narrowing as he growled, "Just pick a damn sword, you little brat." The sound of his voice was like a crack of thunder, making Cyan's ears ring. Cyan chuckled, a playful grin spreading across his face, as he shook his head in amusement. "Well, if you say so," he said, starting to explore the swords in the barrel, the rustling of metal echoing through the air.
But none caught his eye. " I am not going to decline a free weapon, but nothing still caught my eye". The swords seemed to stretch on forever, a sea of rusty, filthy, and old blades that seemed to mock him with their mediocrity. "I know it's free and all, but I would rather pick something good with a lot of durability and aura concentration. But all I can see are a lot of rusty, filthy, and old swords," Cyan thought to himself, his expression turning thoughtful, his mind working overtime to find the perfect sword.
Then, an idea came to him, like a bolt of lightning illuminating the darkness. "Wait! What if I use my aura to search for a good weapon? But that's going to require a lot of aura. Well, it is for a good cause, so I am just going to do it," Cyan thought, placing his hand above the barrel with the swords, closing his eyes, and focusing, his breathing slowing down as he concentrated.
His hand started glowing a magnificent faint blue that lit every sword in the barrel, casting an ethereal glow over the room. Alaric's eyes widened in surprise, his expression turning curious, as he took a step back, his eyes fixed on Cyan's hand. "Soul Manicle, huh? Not bad, but where did this smug brat learn such a skill? How fascinating. I have never heard of anyone using a passive art to search for a weapon. This brat always does the un-imagined," Alaric thought to himself, gazing at Cyan, who was completely lost in concentration, with his eyes closed in a calm demeanor.
Cyan's thoughts were a jumble of excitement and curiosity, his mind racing with possibilities. "Soul Manicle, Aris once told me that this skill is used by doctors. A very helpful skill that has existed for over a thousand years now, used to discover someone's life force, works almost like a hospital's life monitor, and I am going to use it as a sword detector, ha ha ha?" he thought to himself, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.
But then, a memory flashed in his mind, and he thought, "Wait, what? I wonder what that hell a life monitor is?" He didn't realize that he'd just spoken of a machine that he once experienced in his last life as Jaden.
"The life monitor" that indicates if someone was still breathing and their health. Some memories from back then flashed in a single second, and he could see the life monitor attached to his wrist. He could feel like he was sitting on a bed, and the wind coming from a strange spinning object above him. Somehow, he felt a sense of familiarity to this weird place, but nothing was clear, everything was a jumble of black and white.
Alaric's voice broke the silence, his expression serious, as he took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Cyan. "Focus, child!" he said, gazing at Cyan, his voice firm but laced with a hint of concern. Cyan opened his eyes, his hand still glowing in a magnificent display, as he smiled, a hint of determination in his eyes.
"Yeah, that's right. I don't know what that hell that was, but I need to focus on this current task. After all, it's not everyday that this greedy old bastard offers free swords," he thought to himself, releasing a good smirk, as he looked at Alaric, who was gazing at him with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.
Alaric's expression turned grumpy, his eyes narrowing as he thought, "I don't know what made this little bastard smirk, but I know I don't like it, damn it," his mind working overtime to figure out what was going on.
Meanwhile, Cyan took a deep breath, focusing his mind, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down as he centered himself. "Focus," he thought to himself, closing his eyes, imbuing his aura energy with the swords, the air around him vibrating with tension. When he used the technique, he could see the swords in his mind's eye, like a black and white TV, except the swords responded back at him by shining a golden light, as if each sword was advertising its strength, the light casting an otherworldly glow on the walls of the shop.
"All of these swords are barely responding to my call, their light is also too fade. I will try to imbue more power and see what happens," Cyan thought to himself, increasing more aura energy, his hand glowing brighter with each passing moment. The light on his hand shone brighter, and suddenly, one of the swords shone brighter than the others, its golden light unbelievable, like a beacon calling out to him. The light came from the deep part of the barrel, and Cyan reached in, pulling out a short, mid-ranged sword covered in filth and dust, the sound of scraping metal echoing through the air.
"Found you!" he yelled in his mind, excitement coursing through his veins, as he held up the sword, its weathered blade reflecting the warm glow of the blacksmithing shop. "I choose this one, old man," he said, his voice filled with conviction, as he turned to Alaric, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
Alaric's expression turned thoughtful, his eyes narrowing as he examined the sword, his hands moving with a practiced ease as he took the sword from Cyan. "Okay, since you used Soul Manicle, I'm sure that sword offered you a good deal. But the problem is, I wasn't the one who forged that one," he said, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity, as he turned the sword over in his hands, studying it from every angle.
Cyan's brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes locked onto Alaric's, as he waited for him to continue. "So, is that a problem?" he asked, his voice filled with a hint of uncertainty.
Alaric's shoulders lifted in a shrug, his expression turning nonchalant. "No, not really. As you know, a weapon becomes ten times stronger when the wielder recognizes its craftsman, and that one isn't one of mine. I found it lying under a river when I was looking for some shells. I saw it glowing underwater and took it, but when I appraised it, I found nothing special about it. You're free to take it out of my hand if you want to, but I can't guarantee its quality since I wasn't the one who created it," he said, his voice filled with a hint of apology, as he handed the sword back to Cyan.
As Cyan gazed at the sword, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, his expression turning melancholic, as memories long forgotten began to surface. "A river, huh? That kind of reminds me of my story," he thought to himself, his eyes reflecting a pathetic expression towards the sword, as he ran his fingers over the intricate designs etched into the blade.
"It's okay, I'll take it," Cyan said, his voice barely above a whisper, as he looked up at Alaric, a hint of determination flashing in his eyes. Alaric's face broke into a wide grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Well, if you're sure, it's yours. You can leave it, and I'll polish it for you... for one silver coin," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, as he leaned forward, his eyes locked onto Cyan's.
Cyan's eyes rolled in exasperation, his face turning stern, as he let out a deep sigh. "You greedy old bastard, I thought you'd do it for free since it's a gift. Isn't a gift given in its prime?" he said, his voice filled with a hint of indignation, as he shook his head in amusement.
Alaric's laughter echoed through the shop, his eyes sparkling with mirth, as he threw his head back, his laughter infectious. "Hell no, you need to pay, kid," he said, his voice filled with a hint of glee, as he wiped tears from his eyes.
Cyan's face turned stern, his jaw clenched in frustration, as he glared at Alaric, a hint of warning in his voice. "Tch, fine. Just make sure you polish and sharpen it to my absolute liking. If not, I won't pay a damn thing, okay?" he said, his voice filled with a hint of determination, as he stood up straight, his shoulders squared.
Alaric's grin grew wider, his eyes glinning with confidence, as he nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, but if you end up liking it, you'll pay extra," he said, his voice laced with a hint of confidence, as he leaned back, his eyes locked onto Cyan's.
Cyan's eyes locked onto Alaric's, a hint of determination flashing in their depths, as he nodded his head in agreement. "Deal!" he said, handing the sword to Alaric for polishing and sharpening, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing through the air.
As he turned to leave, Cyan's eyes scanned the shop, taking in the familiar sights and sounds, the scent of hot metal and coal filling his nostrils. "I'll be going now. I'll collect my equipment at dawn, after my training," he said, his voice filled with a hint of excitement, as he turned to leave, the door creaking as he pushed it open.
Alaric's voice followed him, echoing through the shop, as he stood up, his eyes watching Cyan's departure. "Yes, good luck, you little prick!" he yelled, as Cyan turned around the corner, disappearing from the exit scene, the sound of his laughter echoing through the air.
Meanwhile, Cyan continued his journey to his daily training, the warm sunlight casting a golden glow on his face, as he walked through the village streets, the sound of hammering on metal and the scent of hot coal wafting through the air, mingling with the distant chime of the village bell, signaling the start of the afternoon session. The villagers bustled about, going about their daily business, as Cyan nodded to the familiar faces, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Without realizing it, he had wasted a ton of time talking to old man Alaric, and it was already afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the village, as Cyan quickened his pace, his boots echoing on the cobblestone streets.
A few minutes later, Cyan arrived at the village gate, crafted from sturdy wood and iron joints, the gate's imposing structure evoking a sense of solidity and protection. The gate's massive wooden beams were weathered to a warm, honey-brown color, and the iron joints were adorned with intricate carvings of leaves and vines. The gate was so big it almost seemed like a fortress, but in a world where monsters roamed free, it was a normal precaution.
The gate's wooden surface was adorned with the emblem of the royal kingdom of Celest, a proud eagle soaring through the skies, its wings outstretched. The gate was currently open, and two guards stood on each side, wearing full silver armor that shone like polished moonlight. One male and one female, they were real knights from the capital, given the sole duty to protect the village. Not just the Ranon village, but every village in the royal kingdom of Celest.
The sound of clinking armor and the creaking of leather echoed through the air as they shifted their weight, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced air of vigilance. One of the knights, known by the name Eryndor, a professional knight with chiseled features, reached out to Cyan, who was coming their way. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue, and his hair was a rich, dark brown, cropped short to fit beneath his helmet.
ERYNDOR: "Hey, Cyan, setting off to training, are ya?" he asked, his voice warm and friendly, as he smiled, his eyes cr crkling at the corners.
Cyan's face broke into a wide grin. "Yes, I could use some brutal air of strength training," he said, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, as he nodded, his hair bobbing up and down.
The two knights started laughing, their armor creaking as they shifted their weight, as they exchanged a knowing glance. Cyan walked beside them, walking outside the gate, the warm sunlight casting a golden glow on his face, as the scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers wafted through the air, mingling with the distant sound of birdsong.
The other knight, known by the name Liora, yelled out, her voice carrying a hint of concern, as she took a step forward, her eyes locked onto Cyan's. "Be careful out there, Cyan. Keep your guard up and try to return before dawn, okay?!" she said, her voice firm but laced with a hint of worry.
Cyan's face turned serious, his jaw clenched in determination, as he nodded, his eyes locked onto Liora's. "Okay, I will. Thanks for your concern," he said, as he completely exited the gate, the sound of the gate creaking shut behind him, like a seal being broken.
The moment he got near the trees, he disappeared, jumping onto the trees with a ninja's precision, his speed incredible, as he leaped from branch to branch, the sound of leaves rustling and branches creaking echoing through the air. The trees' canopies swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, as Cyan moved with a fluidity that belied his speed.
"I need to get stronger," he thought to himself, as he leaped tree after tree, the wind rushing past his face, whipping his hair into a frenzy, as he moved with a speed and agility that was almost supernatural.
The more he jumped, the further he went away from the village, the sound of bugs creaking in the jungle palpable, and the shadow of the trees heavy, as the sunlight filtered through the canopy above. Twenty-five minutes later, cyan found himself Standing Infront of a ruin.
The temple's weathered stone surface was covered in moss and lichen, the soft, emerald-green growth spreading like a living, breathing entity across the ancient structure. The air around it seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy, as if the very fabric of reality had been woven into the temple's architecture. The sound of wind whistling through the temple's entrance echoed through the air, a low, mournful sigh that seemed to carry on the wind, like a lament for the forgotten gods.
As Cyan approached the temple, the scent of incense and old stone wafted out, mingling with the earthy smell of damp soil and decaying leaves. The air was heavy with the weight of centuries, the accumulated prayers and whispers of countless devotees who had come to seek solace within the temple's hallowed halls.
The temple's entrance was a grand, arched doorway, the wooden doors worn smooth by the passing of time. Cyan pushed open the doors, the creaking of the hinges like a sigh, as he stepped into the temple's dimly lit interior. The air inside was cool and still, the only sound the soft rustling of robes and the creaking of the wooden pews.
As Cyan's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw the statues of the gods, their faces serene and unyielding, their eyes seeming to bore into his very soul. The statues were covered in a thin layer of dust, and the air was thick with the scent of incense and forgotten offerings.
Cyan felt a shiver run down his spine as he walked deeper into the temple, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He had been here before, but the temple's atmosphere always different, always shifting and changing like the tides. "Why's is it evrytime I walk in here, I feel so strange?" he ask himself in thought, as he focused his gaze to his right palm. His footsteps seemed echoe in the ancient structures.
END OF CHAPTER 5