Chapter-4 The Sixth Sword

The cathedral walls groaned under the weight of silence.Shards of crimson light bled through the stained glass, casting broken halos around Nara as she stood unmoving at the center of the hall. Her rose-pink hair floated in the stillness, a living veil of color against the gloom. Her black dress, stitched with whispers of lace and sorrow, clung to her form like a second skin — mourning and majesty intertwined.

Before her, Xavier stood, his hand trembling. Between his fingers, the pendant — the last fragile link to their shattered past — glowed faintly, pulsing with memories that neither of them could bear to speak aloud.

"Nara..." His voice broke, raw and unfamiliar, like the scrape of iron across stone.

She did not speak.She simply closed her eyes, her hands pressed together as if in prayer, as if in surrender. Her lips moved silently, mouthing a name that had long since turned to dust.

The pendant cracked — a delicate, sickening sound — and in that instant, the world seemed to fracture with it.A rush of wind burst outward from the shattering, sending her pink hair spiraling around her like a halo of dying stars. Her black coat flared behind her, the silver brooches glinting like fallen constellations.

Still, she did not fall.Still, she did not weep.

She lifted her chin, her ocean-deep eyes opening to meet Xavier's — not with hatred, not even with pain, but with a quiet, sacred sadness. The kind that forgives even when it shouldn't.

The kind that still hopes, even when everything else is lost.

And so, in the ruins of their broken faith, Nara stood — both the prayer and the sword, ready to walk whatever cursed path awaited her.

.

.

.

Xavier's eyes fluttered open slowly, the world around him a hazy blur. Shapes shifted. Light flickered. And then—he saw a figure sitting near him.

A soft voice broke through the fog.

"Are you okay, my lord? You look so pale."

The voice was gentle. Familiar.

He blinked, forcing his vision to clear. The girl before him had soft pink hair, glowing faintly in the dim light. Just like the dream.

"You... Who are you? And why do you keep calling me lord?" he asked, stepping back in confusion. "You were in my dream. Back when I touched the pendant."

The girl stood, unbothered by his reaction.

"I'm Nara," she said softly. "Your sixth sword. The priest must have told you already—you don't remember anything."

Xavier's chest tightened. "Sixth sword? Priest? Is this a prank? Please stop this madness. And… where is the pendant? The one I broke just before I passed out?"

"That pendant was the seal," she explained. "The seal in which I was trapped. You awakened me. And now, we must awaken the remaining six swords."

"I—no," Xavier shook his head. "Please. I don't know you, okay? You're beautiful, but none of this makes sense."

He turned away, ready to run back—back to anything that felt normal.

But her next words made him freeze.

"You have a scar on your chest. Your left ribs are aching. You saw the Shadow Realm soldiers in your bathroom mirror. Your eyes glowed gold."

He slowly turned, his eyes wide in disbelief. "How… How do you know that?"

"Because I've been watching you, even in your sleep," she said calmly. "You still don't believe it, do you? That you were reborn—to finish what you couldn't centuries ago."

She stepped forward, her voice steady now.

"That painting in the museum—it wasn't coincidence. That man was you. Your true name is Typhon Kaelzar. The Dragon Lord. A warrior so powerful, you could destroy entire realms with a single breath. And now… it's time to return."

Xavier felt his breath catch. His body weakened under the weight of her words. None of it made sense. And yet—something inside him believed.

Nara suddenly wrapped her arms around him. The hug was warm. Familiar.

Xavier blinked, stunned by how calm he suddenly felt. As if his heart had found a missing piece. He hesitated, then hugged her back.

Why does this feel right?

Why do her words ease my pain? Why do I feel like I've known her forever?

It's like… she's a part of something I've lost. Something inside me.

"You're not in pain anymore, right?" Nara asked with a soft smile.

Her smile… it felt like healing. A piece of home.

"Your ribs hurt because I was awakening. You forged me from your own left rib centuries ago. I'm a part of you, Xavier. Just like the other six."

"I don't know if I believe you yet," he said quietly. "But… everything here feels strangely familiar."

Nara smiled with both warmth and sorrow, like someone who had waited lifetimes for this moment.

Just then, a familiar voice called from a distance.

"Xavier! Where are you? Do you even know what time it is?" Clara's voice echoed through the corridor.

Snapping out of the moment, Xavier turned.

"I… I forgot the direction," he called back, trying to compose himself.

He turned again—Nara was gone. But she had left him with a small, satisfied smile before disappearing.

Why didn't Clara see her? he thought, confused.

He looked down at his arm—the cut from the shattered pendant had healed. Not a scar in sight.

He clenched his fist.

"I don't know if this is a dream or a curse," he whispered to himself, "but if this is Nara's doing… she didn't come to hurt me."

For the first time since Rome, the confusion didn't consume him.

This time, it brought a purpose.