Andrew_Nickene

This is the journey of another young swordsman that was raised in a commoner family until a young age Andrew discovered that the had excellent skills to wield a sword.
The story starts when Andrew joins the biggest competition on his continet of swordsmanship 
were he is given the opportunity to get an artifact rarity of a sword called Ashren that has the power to show the past lifes of whoever wields it. 
The sword gave Andrew the power of his past life to forge his own new journey.

Ashren: The Shadow Within

Chapter 50: Echoes Beneath the Throne

Steel groaned. Runes flared. Armor once dulled by centuries began to gleam with a subtle, eerie sheen. The Legion of the Fallen Star—as Mihai now called them—rose not as hollow corpses, but echoes of the will they once followed.

Andrew stood before the throne at the front of the chamber, Ashren resting across his back, still vibrating faintly. The sword had not gone quiet since they stepped into Norvangar.

"They'll need training," Andrew muttered."They were trained," Mihai said, watching the soldiers take formation. "But for war without mercy. That's not the battle you fight now."

In the deepest corner of the temple, a platform cracked open. Dust, old magic, and the scent of burnt celestial bone filled the air. Andrew stepped forward cautiously.

He should have known it wouldn't stay buried forever.

From the chasm below, something ancient stirred.

A sound like a thousand chains tightening at once echoed up from the dark, followed by a voice—not quite human, not quite divine.

"Bearer of the Shadow… you should not exist."

A massive figure erupted from the pit, armor forged from meteorite and gold. A single eye burned like a star in the center of its head.

"I am Rynthar, Sentinel of the Final God. Your resurrection threatens the balance."

Andrew drew Ashren instantly. The blade reacted like a beast unleashed, wrapping his arm in tendrils of living shadow.

"I didn't ask to be reborn," Andrew said. "But I'm here now."

Rynthar launched forward with thunderous speed, slamming a war-spear down into the marble floor. Andrew parried just in time, his body pushed back several feet.

Mihai shouted something, but Andrew couldn't hear. All sound blurred into the rush of memory—visions, fragments of his past life, clashing with his present.

"You killed gods once," Ashren whispered."Do it again."

"No," Andrew hissed. "Not like this."

Instead, Andrew focused—not on destruction, but control.

The shadows on his blade thickened and shifted—not striking Rynthar but wrapping around him, slowing his movements. Rynthar resisted with a divine roar, slashing away the tendrils—but Andrew had already leapt, blade spinning.

He struck the Sentinel across the chest—cracking armor but not breaking it.

"You are not him," Rynthar snarled."No," Andrew said, eyes glowing faintly, "I'm better."

At last, with a final strike, Andrew drove Ashren into the ground, unleashing a surge of power that exploded through the room like a wave of pure will.

"You are not as the other was," he said. "But you are no less dangerous."

"I won't be your enemy," Andrew said.

"You will be everyone's… if the gods wake and see what you've become."

With that, Rynthar collapsed into slumber again, fading back into the pit.

Later that night, as the stars returned to the sky, Mihai stood beside Andrew atop Norvangar's outer tower.

"You realize what this means," Mihai said. "If even the divine constructs see you as a threat…"

"Then I have to make sure I choose differently than I did before."

The legion below stood at quiet attention. Ten thousand strong.

Andrew took a deep breath and whispered:

"Let the world fear me. As long as it still has the chance to be saved."