I Do Not Trust This Dagger

Today, Soren had decided to refine his use of the dagger—at least to a functional level. Mastery would come later, but for now, he needed to ensure he could wield it efficiently enough to hunt, gain experience, and stockpile food before continuing his journey.

The forest, once again, was bathed in golden light, sunbeams breaching through the branches and illuminating the morning mist. Soren stood beside the hollow tree that had served as his shelter these past nights, his thoughts tangled in the mechanics of close combat.

Slowly, he raised one hand and focused on Aeternis. Flecks of light coalesced, forming into a sleek dagger that settled into his palm with an ethereal hum. Without hesitation, he burst into motion—slashing through the air, pivoting into a spinning kick to create distance, then transitioning into a flurry of rapid thrusts.

Aeternis groaned, his voice brimming with melodramatic despair.

"By the gods… This is the most unsightly display of combat I have ever witnessed. Slow, weak, and lacking any grace. You might wound a house cat, but I fear you'd be bested by the owner."

Soren grunted in annoyance but pressed on, sweat beginning to gather as he repeated the sequence.

Then, Aeternis' tone shifted, turning even more theatrical.

"And the way you hold me—oh, the horror! Like a mere kitchen knife, with no reverence, no finesse. My purity, my innocence… stolen! O, what cruel fate, to be wielded by a barbarian!"

Soren's grip tightened. He exhaled through his nose. "Do you ever shut up?"

Aeternis scoffed. "And be silenced while you desecrate my form with this… primitive flailing? Not a chance. I've suffered enough. Tell me, do you even understand the basics of battle arts?"

Soren straightened slightly, a hint of confidence in his tone. "I feel like I know them adequately."

Aeternis immediately attempted to wrest control of Soren's arm—presumably to make him slap himself.

"You know nothing… truly a plebeian. Not once have you used any battle arts during combat."

His voice dipped into a mocking whisper. "Adequately… pfft."

Soren raised an eyebrow. "Battle arts? You mean the flashy nonsense that awakened use? I don't even have a mastery. I haven't heard of anyone who doesn't have one."

Aeternis scoffed, his tone dripping with irritation. "You are a Jack of All—meaning everything is within your grasp, you uncultured brat. Have you even considered what that truly means?"

He huffed, as if personally offended. "There were once stories of people like you, but that's beside the point. The only thing you've done so far is toy with water manipulation. You limit yourself."

Soren's mind stalled for a moment.

Everything?

He hadn't thought about it before—hadn't even considered it.

The realization hit like a delayed punch to the gut.

Every single mastery… is in my reach?

Aeternis coughed loudly, snapping Soren out of his thoughts.

"Hey, brat. Focus up. Let me show you the true extent of possibilities."

Soren instinctively resisted. He had seen battle arts before—the flashy stunts awakened warriors pulled during public tournaments. Twirling slashes, glowing strikes, dramatic bursts of energy… all of it felt unnecessary.

They had weapons, didn't they? Why waste essence on theatrics?

He crossed his arms, his tone flat. "Takes too much essence. I need my essence, so no."

Aeternis exhaled sharply. "You don't have a choice."

Before Soren could react, a foreign force seized his body.

His limbs went rigid. His senses dulled. The ground beneath him felt distant, his connection to his own body slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Aeternis had taken over.

Soren's breath hitched. He couldn't move. He couldn't resist.

He was trapped in his own skin, watching through his own eyes, reduced to nothing more than an observer.

Aeternis' voice rumbled low. "Since you are so pathetically weak, I can't hold this for long—but I will demonstrate just how little you know."

Soren swallowed.

Something felt different.

The world looked normal. There was no essence flowing through the air. No glowing energy, no mystical aura—just the raw, unchanged reality he had known before awakening.

Yet—he could feel it.

The weight in the air. The shift in the atmosphere. Something was there, invisible and unspoken.

Aeternis lowered his stance.

A deep inhale followed.

Then, a slow, steady exhale.

The warm air around his lips stirred unnaturally, as if pulled by an unseen force.

His eyes opened.

The dagger rested lightly in his hand.

And then—

He moved.

Soren's own body blurred forward, faster than he had ever moved before.

The dagger shot out, slicing through the air—and something shifted.

Aeternis spoke, his voice low, empty, and absolute.

"Hollow Void."

A small, black circle shimmered into existence in front of the blade.

The dagger's tip entered it—and disappeared.

Then—

Ten meters ahead, a tree cracked.

*Clack.*

A loud, dull bang echoed through the forest.

Soren's gaze snapped toward the impact.

Splinters flew from the bark, scattering like shards of glass.

There, just beside the tree, an identical black circle had flickered into existence. A sharp, metallic object gleamed from within—the dagger's tip, stabbing through the void.

Soren barely had time to process it before—

The metal withdrew.

The circles vanished.

Silence.

Soren stood there, his mind blank.

His own body. His own hands. He hadn't done that.

Aeternis had.

The weight of the essence drain hit Soren like a slow, creeping fog. His head grew light, unsteady. Aeternis had released control, but the lingering exhaustion clung to him like lead.

He staggered slightly, his vision swimming for a brief moment.

"Flashy move. Don't do that again. I don't have the essence for it," he muttered, his voice strained as he tried to steady himself.

Aeternis scoffed. "A mere fraction of my genius."

Soren scowled, but he was too drained to argue. He had no idea how Aeternis had pulled that off. There was no visible flow of essence, no energy surge—nothing to grasp, nothing to analyze.

He exhaled sharply. "That… that was a sub-element, right?"

Aeternis let out a pleased hum. "So you know something after all. Yes. Mastery of Gravity."

His tone dipped into mocking amusement. "I have been wielded by champions—warriors who bent the laws of battle to their will. Each one different. But never… never by someone as tragically incompetent as you."

Soren clenched his jaw, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

So it's true.

I can wield everything.

But the cost is… absurdly steep.

For me, these are nothing but parlor tricks. Worthless if I can't sustain them.

Aeternis spoke, his tone dripping with condescension. "The least you could do with that meager essence of yours is learn to control it."

Soren frowned, still thinking back to what he had experienced.

That's what I saw.

Aeternis had moved his hand far faster than he ever had before. But why? Maybe it wasn't just about power—maybe it had to do with how essence flowed inside the body.

Soren exhaled slowly. "So how do you do it?"

Aeternis answered without hesitation.

"Simple. Just control it."

Soren's eyebrow twitched. The smug bastard was mocking him.

Aeternis clearly had no intention of actually explaining anything—he just wanted to flaunt his superiority.

Soren rolled his shoulders, his voice dry. "At the end of the day, you're just a dagger, after all."

Silence.

Then—Aeternis erupted.

"You ugly, barbaric, stupefied, incompetent piece of ever-growing rust! I am not just a dagger—I am a 'Divine' masterpiece, you brat! If the warriors of old saw me now, they would grovel at my feet and praise me as a holy relic! What part of divine can your feeble mind not comprehend?!"

Soren waved off the insult like dust on his sleeve. "Anyway—since you're so old and apparently know everything about the Havens, can you tell me where we actually are?"

Aeternis went silent for a moment, as if debating whether he should actually answer.

Then, he huffed. "Yes, yes. If I remember correctly, this is the Forest of Grandeur."

Soren's eyes narrowed slightly.

He actually remembers?

That meant his knowledge wasn't entirely lost.

Soren pressed further. "So can you tell me anything useful?"

Aeternis let out a thoughtful hum before responding.

"If memory serves, there are giants and low-level beasts that roam here."

Soren stiffened slightly.

Giants?

Before he could dwell on it, Aeternis' tone brightened, far too gleefully.

"But you do not want to run into a giant. That would be where demise finally carries me away from you—and I, for one, welcome that outcome."

Soren sighed, rubbing his temple.

Of course, the damn dagger would be excited about his death.

His personality is completely different from how he acted during the trial.

Soren exhaled sharply. "I liked you better when you weren't openly wishing for my demise and were just over-the-top dramatic, you know?"

Aeternis curved Soren's lips into a gleeful, mocking grin.

"Well, I hadn't yet comprehended the full extent of your moronity before."

Soren ignored the jab without a second thought and got back to what actually mattered.

"So, is there something we can kill in this forest?"

Aeternis' expression shifted. A glimpse of mischief flashed across Soren's own face.

"Oh, there's something perfectly suited for you."

Soren's stomach dropped slightly.

I do not trust this dagger.