_Eshwar_

A tragedy...
An abrupt departure...
Death...
And rebirth.

Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword.
A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond.

It unveiled something,
Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented....
A being who seems to weave the threads of fate.

Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will?
If he does exist, what purpose does he serve?
Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him?
If it is another's will, can he defy it?
Can he turn his sword against his creator,
A being who literally writes his reality?

Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows,
Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

The Blind Swordsman.

With a strange sound, the straightened arc that was moving in a blur, cut through the demonized, carrying a strong spurt of dark crimson blood which splattered on the ground riddled in cuts and slashes, before the arc dissipated into nothing soon after.

After a few seconds of ghastly silence, the demonized, which was cut into pieces, began to split piece by piece as it splattered on the ground where a pool of blood was seen flooding.

[Trainees will be teleported out of the artificial space after ten minutes of time allocated for recovery]

Hearing the announcement, cheers or sighs of reliefs were expected, but not even a pep was let out.

Marken, the trainee, responsible for ending the incident without any casualties began to walk back towards the immobile young woman, who was yet to be teleported out of the artificial space.

Unclear emotions.