Fractured Memories

The shattered chains dissolved into the air, their metallic echoes fading into the ruined cityscape. Raiyan's sword hummed, resonating with something unseen—something ancient.

The creature staggered back, its cracked mask fracturing further. Black mist seeped from the wound on its chest, curling into the air like dying embers.

And then—it spoke.

> "You… are not complete."

The voice was neither human nor monstrous. It was something in between—something that should not exist.

Raiyan clenched his jaw. His breathing was still ragged, his limbs burning from exertion, but he stood firm.

Not complete?

Before he could demand an answer, the creature collapsed to one knee. Its form flickered—like it was struggling to hold itself together.

And then—it laughed.

A hollow, rasping sound that sent a chill down Raiyan's spine.

> "The blade remembers… and so will you, soon."

It raised a single clawed hand—and pressed it against its own chest.

And then, before Raiyan could stop it—the creature tore itself apart.

A black shockwave erupted from its body, the force nearly knocking Raiyan off his feet. He braced himself, shielding his face from the swirling mist.

When the air finally settled—the creature was gone.

Only his sword remained, still humming softly.

The fight was over.

But the real battle had just begun.

---

Doom stepped forward, his golden eyes fixed on the spot where the creature had vanished.

His expression was unreadable.

> "It called you incomplete."

Raiyan turned to him, gripping his sword tightly.

> "What did it mean?"

Doom didn't answer immediately. He reached into his robes and pulled out something small—a fragment of the creature's mask.

The moment it touched the air, ancient symbols flickered across its surface.

> "This was no ordinary hunter," Doom murmured.

Raiyan narrowed his eyes. "Then what was it?"

A pause.

Then, Doom spoke a name.

A name that made Raiyan's blood run cold.

> "Vaelith, the Shadowed Fang."

The moment the name left Doom's lips, Raiyan felt a sharp pain pierce through his skull.

A memory—not his, but the sword's.

Flashes of battle. A night sky painted red with fire. A warrior wielding his blade… but it was not him.

And a voice—familiar, yet distant.

> "If I fall… you must carry the burden."

Raiyan gasped, staggering backward as the memory faded. His head pounded.

Doom watched him closely.

> "Your sword was not forged in this era," he said calmly. "It was carried by another before you. And now, its past is becoming yours."

Raiyan clenched his fists.

> "Then… who was the last wielder?"

Another pause.

Then, Doom answered:

> "The one who killed Vaelith the first time."

The weight of those words crushed down on Raiyan.

> He had just fought something that had already been slain once before.

> And he had used the same sword that had killed it centuries ago.

Then why was it still alive?

---

Before Raiyan could process everything, a deep rumble echoed through the ruins.

It wasn't natural.

It was distant—but approaching fast.

Doom's expression darkened.

> "Tch. I was hoping we had more time."

Raiyan forced himself to focus. "What's coming?"

Doom didn't look at him. Instead, he gazed toward the horizon.

Beyond the ruins, shadows began to move.

Not one. Not two.

But dozens.

Figures wrapped in armor of obsidian and crimson, their weapons glinting under the fractured sky.

An army.

> "The Order of the Hollow Sun," Doom murmured. "Looks like your little fight didn't go unnoticed."

Raiyan's stomach twisted.

> "Who are they?"

Doom sighed.

> "The ones who believe your sword should never have been unsheathed."

And with those words, Raiyan realized something.

His fight with Vaelith was only the beginning.

Because now, the real hunters were coming.

---

To Be Continued…