For ten years, the village stood unshaken.

  The once-devastated land had rebuilt itself, the scars of the Voidborn attack buried beneath new walls, new homes, and new warriors trained to prevent another tragedy.

  But Raiyo had not forgotten.

  The scent of burning wood. The screams. His father’s blood pooling in the dirt.

  He could never forget.

  ---

  The Training Grounds.

  "Faster."

  Shigure’s voice was cold, sharp like the edge of a blade. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable as he watched Raiyo swing again and again.

  "You think that’s enough to kill a Voidborn?"

  The wooden sword trembled in Raiyo’s grip, his fingers blistered from relentless training. His once soft features had sharpened, his body lean but strong. His black hair barely swayed under the sun, and his mismatched eyes—one deep blue, the other a cosmic purple—held an intensity few could meet.

  Raiyo gritted his teeth, sweat rolling down his forehead. He had heard it for years. Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Not ready.

  But how could he ever be ready when he had never been given a chance?

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ---

  A Curse of Weakness.

  After his father’s death, Shigure took him in.

  A retired warrior. A legend. The man once known as the Sword Saint.

  The one man feared by even the Voidborn.

  Shigure taught him everything—technique, strategy, the way of the blade. And more than that, he told him about Jinken, the legendary ability where one’s soul manifests into a weapon.

  But no matter how hard Raiyo trained, his Jinken did not awaken.

  Days turned to months. Months to years.

  He watched others awaken theirs. Their power. Their purpose.

  Yet he remained the same. Powerless.

  "It will come when it’s ready." Shigure always said. "Not when you force it."

  But Raiyo didn’t care about patience.

  He wanted strength.

  He wanted to destroy every last Voidborn.

  "If you live only for power, you will be devoured by it."

  Shigure’s words meant nothing to him.

  The Voidborn took his father. His home. His childhood.

  He refused to remain weak.

  ---

  Nightfall

  The air was heavy, an unnatural stillness settling over the village.

  Raiyo sat outside, sharpening a real blade this time—one of Shigure’s old weapons. His uncle never let him use live steel in training, but tonight… something felt off.

  Then, it came.

  A gut-wrenching screech tore through the silence, shaking the very ground beneath him.

  His breath caught.

  Then—an explosion.

  The village gates shattered into flames.

  Screams erupted. Shadows moved unnaturally fast through the streets. And then—a familiar, monstrous figure stepped through the inferno.

  A Voidborn.

  No—the same Voidborn that had killed his father.

  The scars on its grotesque, shifting body were unmistakable.

  A nightmare, dragged back into reality.

  For a moment, Raiyo couldn’t breathe. He had imagined this day a thousand times. Dreamt of it. Trained for it.

  But now that it was here…

  His hands shook.

  ---

  The Moment of Truth

  "RAIYO!"

  Shigure’s voice snapped him out of his trance. His uncle landed beside him, sword already drawn, his presence cutting through the chaos like an immovable force.

  "Get inside. NOW."

  Raiyo clenched his fists. No. Not again.

  "I can fight."

  "You're not ready." - Said uncle

  Before Raiyo could argue, another explosion rocked the ground, sending them both flying backward.

  Raiyo barely caught himself, coughing through the dust—only to look up and see Shigure already locked in battle.

  It was happening again.

  His family fighting. His family bleeding.

  And all he could do was watch.

  Or so they thought.

  As the Voidborn lunged at Shigure, Raiyo's instincts took over. He grabbed the sharpened blade—his grip unsteady, but his resolve absolute—and charged.

  Tonight, for the first time in ten years, Raiyo refused to stand still.