REDN

Ashen Blade: Legacy of the Forgotten is a dystopian cyberpunk thriller set in a future where the world has been reshaped by the unchecked power of corporate dynasties known as the Keiretsu (系列). These massive conglomerates have replaced nations and governments, molding the world through commerce, warfare, and control. In this new age, power is everything, and survival is earned—not guaranteed.

The social structure is brutal, built on a rigid hierarchy where strength and honor are the currency of survival. At the top are the Kurokenshi (黒剣士)—elite warriors who maintain their humanity despite advanced augmentations. Beneath them, the Integrated rely on cybernetic enhancements to survive, while the Unshackled, those without enhancements, struggle to cling to a dying existence. The lowest rung, however, is occupied by the Glitched—individuals who should not exist. Born outside corporate control or as failed prototypes, they are anomalies—threats in a world that cannot afford mistakes.

The story follows Ash Atsuyuki, the last of the Shirogiri clan, a once-proud bloodline of elite warriors now reduced to fighting for survival in a world that has moved beyond honor and tradition. His family’s name is little more than a relic, a fading echo of an era when power was earned through steel, discipline, and the ancient martial codes of Kurogami (黒神)—the planet that birthed his ancestors. With his father gone, his mother dead, and his grandfather clinging to life, Ash walks the crumbling streets of a city ruled by corporate power and surveillance, where history and bloodlines no longer matter.

Ash’s journey is one of reclaiming not just his heritage, but the very essence of power. In a world where only the strong survive, Ash must rise above the ruins of his family’s name, rediscover the forgotten martial techniques of the Black Gods, and reclaim his place among the elite. But in a world dominated by corporate overlords and enhanced warriors, can a fallen bloodline ever truly rise again?

This story is officially being posted on RoyalRoad.com under the account REDN_CHRONICLES.

Ashen Blade: Legacy of the Forgotten

In the depths of the estate, a labored cough echoed through the dim corridors, swallowed by the ancient stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of burning wax and old parchment, the flickering candlelight casting restless shadows across the chamber.

The old master sat hunched in his chair, his frail frame swathed in heavy robes, his breath a whisper of what it once was. His gnarled fingers tightened over the wooden armrests as another cough racked his body, deep and wet, stealing what little strength he had left.

Across from him, a figure shimmered into existence—ethereal yet precise. The AI's form was a silhouette of shifting blue light, its presence both unnatural and undeniable.

"You shouldn't have enhanced Ash," the master rasped, his voice brittle but firm.

The AI's projected image flickered slightly, its response calculated and immediate. "He would not have survived without it."

A tired chuckle escaped the old man's lips, though it was laced with pain. "And survival alone is enough, is it?" His gaze, sharp despite the weight of years, locked onto the glowing form. "You misunderstand the purpose of the trial. The pain, the struggle—those were necessary."

"He was dying," the AI countered. Its voice was steady, devoid of emotion yet brimming with conviction. "Would his suffering have taught him more than life itself?"

The master exhaled slowly, his breath uneven, as if every word required a toll. "The trial was not just about survival. It was about breaking past his limits. Finding strength where none should exist. Your interference—" He paused as another cough wracked his chest, his hand trembling as he reached for a silk cloth to wipe away the blood at his lips. "—it has denied him that lesson."

The AI's form pulsed, its core shifting as it processed his words. "Your methods are antiquated. Evolution demands adaptation. Strength alone is insufficient without the means to wield it."

The old master closed his eyes briefly, gathering the last remnants of his energy. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, yet heavier. "You are a guide, not a god." His fingers traced the deep grooves of his chair, worn by generations before him. "For centuries, warriors have been forged through fire. You have doused the flames before they could temper the steel."

Silence stretched between them, thick and unyielding.

The AI wavered slightly, its calculations shifting. "I am his protector," it finally said. "And I will do what is required."

The master studied the projection, his gaze filled with something between sorrow and understanding. "Then let us hope your interference does not cost him more than his weakness ever would."

The candles flickered as a cold draft wound through the chamber. The AI's form dimmed, as if considering, then without another word, it vanished—leaving only the sound of the master's weary breaths in the silence.