Chapter 68: The Third Blade

Chapter 68: The Third Blade

The marketplace buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the silence that once haunted Kael and Lira's memories of this place. Colorful fabrics danced in the breeze, merchants called out their wares, and the scent of roasted chestnuts mingled with fresh fruit. For a brief moment, they forgot the weight of time itself bending beneath their feet.

Kael adjusted the sword at his side, still uneasy despite the peace. Lira walked a few paces ahead, scanning the signs above shopfronts, trying to orient them toward the nearest guildhall or archive—anywhere they might find answers. Andrew trailed silently behind them, a few steps removed from the world, still lingering in the past that had become real before his eyes.

Then the crowd shifted.

A small group parted around a figure walking steadily through the square. He moved like Kael—calculated, controlled, coiled like a blade sheathed in flesh. He wore travel-worn armor, dull silver with deep red leather beneath it, a black cloak flaring with every step. Strapped across his back were twin blades crossed in an X, their hilts identical.

Kael's hand instinctively went to his sword.

The man stopped a few feet away, eyes scanning them with unsettling familiarity. Brown hair fell in messy strands across his forehead, and his face… it could've been a cousin to Kael or even Andrew. The resemblance was uncanny.

"You three," the man said, pointing casually at them with a gloved hand. "You're not from this timeline, are you?"

Kael stiffened. "What did you say?"

"I said you're not from here," the man repeated, stepping closer. "I've been watching the flow of time in this city. You shimmer. Your auras… they don't belong here."

Lira raised a brow, already forming a spell under her breath. "Who are you?"

The man smiled faintly. "I'm Andrew."

Kael and Lira blinked in unison. The Andrew behind them narrowed his eyes.

"That's impossible," Kael muttered.

"I thought the same when I got here," said the new Andrew, holding out his hands in peace. "But then I met him—the other Andrew. Said he pulled me here on purpose. Said he needed all of us."

"Us?" Lira asked.

The stranger nodded. "I come from a world not too different from yours. The sky's red with storms. Our continents are at war. I was a Grand Swordmaster there… until everything fell. Then your Andrew appeared, told me he could fix everything—if I helped him."

"Our Andrew?" Kael looked toward his version of Andrew, who was silent, arms crossed, unreadable.

"He said the time barriers had broken," continued the stranger. "That we were echoes from different possibilities, all converging in this moment. That together, we could either destroy the world or remake it."

Kael's mind reeled. "So… there are three of us now?"

"Three Grand Swordmasters," Lira whispered, eyes wide. "You… Andrew… and him."

The stranger's gaze flicked from Kael to Andrew. "I figured I'd find you eventually. He said you'd be drawn here. To Dream Land."

"Why?" Kael asked. "What is the reason? Why would he bring us all here?"

The stranger hesitated, then spoke. "Because each of us made a different choice in our world. One of us broke the world to save it. One gave everything up to protect someone. And one… well, I'm not sure what your story is yet. But I think we're the key to something he's been planning since before any of us were born."

The silence that followed was thick with rising tension.

Andrew—the one from Kael's world—finally stepped forward, slow and deliberate. His expression was calm, but something burned beneath it. He drew his sword, the edge gleaming unnaturally even in the soft light of the afternoon.

"Proof," he said, leveling the blade at the new Andrew's chest.

Kael and Lira instinctively moved between them.

Andrew didn't blink. "I want proof you're who you say you are. Not a trick. Not another shadow I left behind."

The stranger didn't reach for his weapon. "Then ask."

"I want more than words," Andrew said coldly.

Kael's grip on his own hilt tightened. He took a deep breath, trying to process what was unraveling before him. Three swordmasters. Three realities. All summoned by one man who knew too much and felt too little.

He glanced between them—his Andrew, calm but cold, the stranger, unreadable and mysterious, and himself… confused, but driven by purpose.

Kael stepped forward, finally speaking the only truth he could hold on to.

"Three Grand Swordmasters," he muttered. "All summoned for the same reason…"

His voice dropped into a whisper.

"…this world's about to break."