One month had passed since Tuziku was rescued and taken in by Sailou and his crew.
During that time, Tuziku slowly regained most of his memories of the traumatic events that had occurred before he was saved.
He explained everything he could remember to his savior, who ultimately decided to accept him as a full member of the crew.
Sailou and his men were a group of poor misfits from across the land of Hinkon known as the Casoltins. They had become Underdogs in hopes of one day improving the lives of the Unfortunate—people like themselves.
The day after Tuziku regained consciousness, Sailou offered him a place among them. Tuziku initially refused, insisting he would return home where his mother was waiting.
But that was no longer an option.
Sailou explained, "Tuziku, you are already labeled an Underdog—a wanted fugitive. Returning home would only endanger both you and your family."
Despite the weight of depression pressing against his chest, Tuziku understood.
And so, he became a Casoltin.
Yet throughout that month, fear never left him.
Terrified of his own power, Tuziku desperately searched for a way to restrain his Abyssal ability.
Every attempt ended in failure.
Year 19xx — October 21st. Present Day.
Tuziku stood alone in the same forest, reflecting on how drastically his life had changed in the span of a single month.
"Hey there, kiddo."
Sailou's voice broke the silence as he approached from behind.
"Sailou," Tuziku replied.
"Come here. I've got something to show you."
Curious, Tuziku stepped closer.
"What is it?"
Sailou reached behind his coat and revealed a short sword no longer than twenty centimeters. Its design was strange, almost unnatural, with intricate markings etched along the blade.
"This," Sailou said, "is the Sword of Raigan."
"A sword capable of sealing the user's Abyssal power within its blade."
Tuziku blinked.
"You're serious?"
Sailou grinned and handed it to him.
The moment Tuziku held it, he felt its weight—light, yet strangely heavy in meaning.
His eyes traced the intricate engravings along the steel.
"Don't misunderstand," Sailou added. "This sword won't magically solve your problems."
"First, you must channel your power into it. Only then can it seal your ability safely."
"And if I succeed?" Tuziku asked quietly.
"Then the blade will be reinforced by your Abyssal energy. If not… it's just an ordinary sword."
Tuziku tightened his grip.
"I don't even know how to begin doing something like that."
Sailou chuckled.
"That's expected."
He crossed his arms.
"Think of it this way—your ability is fuel. The sword is the weapon. Together, you can control when your power is used… or choose not to use it at all."
"It doesn't eliminate your ability," Sailou continued. "It simply prevents accidental release and allows you to control it."
Tuziku nodded slowly.
"So… it acts like a filter."
"Exactly."
"But how do I channel something I can't even control?"
Sailou scratched his chin.
"Honestly? I'm not the best person to explain that."
Tuziku frowned.
"Then who is?"
"Our very own swordsman."
From behind a nearby tree, Kutcher stepped forward.
"Perfect timing," Sailou said with a grin.
Kutcher sighed.
"Remind me again why I have to do this?"
"Don't act like that," Sailou replied. "You were once in his position when you were the newest member too."
Kutcher clicked his tongue.
"Fine. But if it looks as though he can't pull this off, I'm walking away."
"Fair enough," Sailou replied.
Sailou waved casually.
"Have fun. I'll be at the hideout."
And just like that, he disappeared, leaving Tuziku alone with Kutcher.
Two weeks earlier, outside the Casoltins' hideout...
"Tuziku, what can you tell me about your Abyssal ability?" Sailou asked.
Tuziku stared at the ground.
"Hmm. I remember acid pouring from my body before I fell unconscious."
"So I'm guessing my Abyssal ability is to produce acid."
"I see..."
"That's a pretty dangerous ability," Sailou replied.
Acid, huh...
Back in the present...
Kutcher stretched his shoulders.
"Alright. Let's begin."
"Wait," Tuziku interrupted. "I didn't know you had an Abyssal ability."
"I don't," Kutcher replied flatly.
Tuziku looked at him in confusion.
"Then how can you teach me?"
Kutcher rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"All humans possess a dormant source of energy called Hei."
"Hei?" Tuziku repeated.
"When awakened, Hei can be infused into weapons. Those with sufficient mastery—or exceptionally large reserves—can even develop what's known as a Simple Technique."
"In my case, I infuse Hei into my blade. The method is similar to what you're attempting."
Tuziku's eyes widened slightly.
Another power source...?
"Enough talking," Kutcher said. "Try pouring your power into the sword."
"Instead of releasing it outward, guide it. Like water flowing through a hose."
Tuziku looked down at the blade.
"That's the problem," he admitted. "I can't control it. I can't even summon it at will."
Kutcher shrugged.
"Then recall the moment it first awakened."
He walked toward a nearby tree and sat down.
"I'll be resting. Wake me when something interesting happens."
Tuziku steadied himself and tightened his grip on the sword.
The first attempts were failures.
Then more failures.
An hour passed.
Then another.
Frustration mounted within Tuziku.
Finally, nearly three hours later, Tuziku closed his eyes and forced himself to relive the trauma that had first triggered his power.
The screams.
The fear.
The overwhelming surge.
Then—something shifted.
A faint sensation traveled from his chest... down his arm... and into the blade.
A thin stream of corrosive acid seeped into the sword.
The metal hissed.
It began to leak.
Tuziku's eyes widened.
"Kutcher..." he called out, staring at the blade as it sizzled in his hand.
"I think you're definitely going to want to wake up now."
CHAPTER END