Perspective: Third-Person Past Tense
The forge roared with life. Flames danced wildly in the hearth, their heat licking at the air as Warzheil worked tirelessly. His hammer struck steel in a steady rhythm, each strike ringing out like a heartbeat. Sparks flew with every blow, illuminating the dim workshop in bursts of orange light.
Ronin leaned against a nearby workbench, his gaze flicking between the glowing embers and the weapons lining the walls. The air smelled of burning coal and hot metal—a sharp, acrid scent that clung to everything.
“How many species are there on this planet anyway?” Ronin asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the rhythmic clang of metal. He tried to sound indifferent, but his curiosity betrayed him.
Warzheil paused mid-strike, resting his hammer on the glowing blade. His brow furrowed as he considered the question. “Well,” he began slowly, “I know of five sentient species that went extinct across the continent. Some say they fled to forbidden lands.”
“Five extinct?” Ronin frowned. “And that’s not counting the ones still around or those we don’t even know about? This world is insane.” He shook his head, his mind racing at the possibilities. “It’s like some cosmic meeting ground for every species imaginable.”
Warzheil chuckled softly and set his hammer aside. He moved to a rack of weapons and selected a dagger. Its blade glowed faintly with runes etched in an unfamiliar language. “Here,” he said, holding it out to Ronin. “Take this and give it a try.”
Ronin reached out hesitantly. The moment the dagger entered his barrier, the glowing runes vanished.
“Tch,” Warzheil muttered, pulling the dagger back. The runes reappeared instantly as it left Ronin’s field. “Your barrier suppresses them—it doesn’t erase them permanently.”
Ronin studied the dagger with narrowed eyes. “So… runes aren’t like regular mana?”
“Exactly,” Warzheil said, his tone shifting into that of a teacher. “Runes are coordinates—patterns that summon specific forms of mana to precise locations when activated.”
The forge crackled as silence settled between them for a moment.
“Well,” Warzheil said finally, breaking the quiet as he gestured toward Ronin. “Enough chit-chat. Where’s your spear? Don’t you want it fixed? I can manage that much.”
Ronin summoned his spear with a flick of his hand. The weapon materialized before him in an instant, its surface gleaming faintly in the firelight.
Warzheil let out a low whistle as he examined it closely. “How does that work?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“It started in your forest forge…” Ronin began, recounting how the strange ‘T’ symbol began appearing on anything he focused on and how it eventually led to dimension pockets linked to his left eye.
“So,” Warzheil summarized thoughtfully, stroking his beard, “you can store and summon any object marked with this peculiar ‘T’ stigma?”
“Pretty much,” Ronin replied.
Without warning, Warzheil handed him the dagger again. “Try looking at this.”
Ronin did as instructed but frowned when nothing happened. “Strange—the symbol didn’t appear.”
Warzheil grinned knowingly and snatched the dagger from Ronin’s hand with deliberate motion. He swung it lightly through the air before holding it out again. “Here—consider this dagger my gift to you. A token of our friendship.”
Ronin raised an eyebrow but as his hand reach out to take the dagger and thought of it as his own possession, the ‘T’ symbol etched itself onto its surface without hesitation.
He focused on the dagger—and in an instant, it teleported from Warzheil’s hand into his own.
Warzheil’s eyes widened in amazement before narrowing with an unsettling glint. “Lad,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with excitement, “I’m getting more and more tempted to cut you open just to see what you’re made of.”
Ronin stiffened slightly at his words but said nothing as Warzheil continued enthusiastically: “You just warped space without divine authority or mana! If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were bending reality itself with sheer thought alone.” He paused briefly before adding in awe: “It’s almost like… your thoughts shape space.”
His words made Ronin uneasy—but also curious. An absurd thought crossed his mind as he stared at Warzheil intently.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Warzheil asked suspiciously.
Ronin returns a grunt as a reply and before he could answer, a sharp pain shot through his head—a searing agony that felt like his skull was being fried and torn apart simultaneously. His vision blurred as blood vessels burst in his eyes. He stumbled backward into a table for support; its edge cracked under his weight.
“R-Ronin!” Warzheil shouted in alarm. He pulled a bag of cereals out from his dimensional pocket and thrust it into Ronin’s hands. “Here—absorb this! Quickly!”
Ronin clutched the bag weakly and absorbed its energy into his barrier. His body began to heal instantly—but the pain in his head lingered like fresh embers burning under his skin.
“Damn it…” Ronin groaned through gritted teeth as he massaged his temple with one hand and struggled to stand upright. "My head feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder."
Warzheil glared at him with equal parts frustration and concern. “Don’t tell me—you tried putting your symbol on me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah… more or less,” Ronin admitted sheepishly.
Warzheil let out a long sigh before shaking his head. “You fool! Even I thought about testing that theory—but clearly there are limits to your powers.”
“This isn’t new,” Ronin said quietly, still rubbing his temples. "That pull in my mind has been there ever since I got these abilities… but now there’s recoil too." His voice dropped further as he added grimly: "It started during the fight with Jortheus."
Warzheil hummed thoughtfully before nodding toward the empty bag at Ronin’s feet. "Even after absorbing enough food to feed a family for weeks… your headache hasn’t gone away." His expression darkened as he continued solemnly: "Which means if you overuse your barrier—or worse—try turning people into possessions…"
"My brain might go boom," Ronin finished grimly.
Warzheil leaned back in his chair with a wry smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "Well," he said after a moment's pause, "at least now we know you're not invincible."
"What’s so funny about that?" Ronin snapped irritably.
"When we first met," Warzheil said with a chuckle, "I thought you were immune to everything—able to absorb energy endlessly… heal instantly… unaffected by any power thrown at you." His grin widened slightly as he added teasingly: "But seeing you have limits? It’s almost reassuring."
He sobered quickly though and looked Ronin straight in the eye. "Still… knowing what you're capable of—and what you're supposed to become—it’s hard to believe you're meant to be Drax's God."
“It’s like your body is a walking fortress,” Warzheil said without looking up, “but your mind… it’s made of glass.”
Ronin smirked faintly through the lingering pain in his head. “God, huh?... By the way, did you tell them?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.
Warzheil hesitated. His hand froze mid-motion before he turned slightly away. “I didn’t tell Gloria yet,” he admitted quietly. “Sil said she would handle it. And don’t worry—I didn’t mention the summoning ritual.”
Ronin’s gaze hardened. “That’s best for now,” he said firmly. “If she found out what happened… she’d either go after Zamba and get herself killed, challenge Ava and make an enemy of the Holy Kingdom, or try to kill me—or you.”
Warzheil exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the spear as he turned it over in his hands. “I didn’t think that far ahead,” he muttered. “Thank the ancients I kept my mouth shut. But that kid… she’ll figure something out sooner or later.” He paused before adding hesitantly, “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?”
Ronin nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I’ll manage somehow,” he said after a moment. His voice carried a solemn weight. “For now… let’s leave it to fate. Things will be better for her if we keep her in the dark.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Warzheil grabbed Ronin’s spear and extended it into its full form with a sharp click. He began taking measurements with quick precision, his hands shifting between tools like clockwork.
“These are my surface gauges,” Warzheil explained as he worked. “I use them to measure curves and dimensions down to the smallest detail.” He gestured toward the spear’s midsection. “I’ll craft a fitting part for this area—just watch.”
Ronin stepped closer and pointed to a section beneath the spiked tip of the spear. “This part runs from its center all the way down to about one-sixth of its length.”
Warzheil frowned slightly as he examined the area Ronin indicated. “You might be right,” he said thoughtfully. His fingers traced over the surface before he added, “It feels different—like there’s some kind of mechanism generating heat at the tip.”
“Not mechanical,” Ronin corrected him. “It’s nuclear.”
Warzheil stopped cold, turning to face Ronin fully. “Nuclear?” he repeated slowly.
“It’s a power source derived from the sun,” Ronin explained simply, pointing upward.
Warzheil’s eyes widened in realization. “Ah! I always thought Earth’s craftsmen were amateurs for creating such fragile weapons—but now it makes sense.” He tapped the spear lightly with his knuckle. “It’s light enough for an assassin to carry, lethal enough to destroy anything in its path… and it doesn’t fade even inside your barrier.”
Ronin nodded thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it—it didn’t dim in my barrier,” he said speculatively. “Maybe because it was built using valid protocols?”
Warzheil clenched his fist suddenly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Can I open that power source? If I can study it, I might be able to create new weapons for you.”
“No.” Ronin’s voice was sharp—almost commanding—as he stepped forward. “Not without a nuclear suit.”
Warzheil blinked at him in confusion but said nothing.
“Nuclear power is dangerous,” Ronin continued coldly. “It’ll make your body radioactive—and kill everyone around you, including yourself.” He leaned closer, his tone dropping lower as he added grimly, “That radiation won’t go away for thousands of years—it’ll turn everything around your corpse into barren wasteland.”
Warzheil stared at him for a long moment before scoffing lightly and waving him off dismissively. “You’re exaggerating now.”
“I’m not.” Ronin’s gaze darkened further as he held Warzheil’s stare without flinching. “There are ways to fix that on Earth—but here? No chance.” His voice dropped into an icy calm as he finished firmly: “Don’t even touch that nuclear source.”
Warzheil swallowed hard—his bravado faltering under Ronin’s unyielding tone—and nodded reluctantly. “…Got it,” he muttered quietly.
The forge fell silent again except for the crackle of flames and the faint hum of tools being adjusted.
“Ok, enough with sad talks, best distraction is when you hammer your thoughts down.” Warzheil says
“What are we going to do?” Ronin asks
“First, let me teach you Rune craft……no that’s not an option, it would disappear anyway.” Warzheil linger, ”Still, just observe me, learning it won’t harm you.”
“Hmm, how do we make your weapons better?, Uru would be too heavy for a mana less.” Warzheil scratches his head in confusion
“Can we overwrite runes? Or like, layer them?” Ronin asks
“Oh? How did you figure that out? yes, although rare, I have hear that at-most 2 Major elements or 4 minor can be layered on a weapon by an average smith.” Warzheil says
“By the way, I can do 3 major elements you know.” Warzheil says with a prideful grin.
“I see, but why only 2 or 3? Why not more?” Ronin asks
“It ends up either messing the durability of the material on which its etched or makes the weapon heavier, which is not optimal for metals like Uru or Dark Uru which are absurdly heavy, its as if you were lifting a bunch of trees if you don’t have mana. And that’s why even I put only one minor enchantment of thunder on my hammer, since I have affinity with thunder, one of the rarest elements.”
“that’s amazing. The mechanism is so elaborate I can hardly believe it. A metal so dense.” Ronin say, Warzheil picks up the dagger he gave him.
“Anyway lad, this dagger is mine now.” He says which confuses Ronin
“Hmm….? So the symbol doesn’t go away so simply.” Warzheil murmurs
He grabs a whetstone and rubs it over the symbol but it doesn’t do anything.
“Oh! I think I figured it out. Put your symbol on this whet stone…” Warzheil says in excitement
Hours pass as they experiment with Ronin’s symbol. The runes disappear from an object once Ronin put his symbol on it. But they can be overlayed on his symbol, making those particular runes exclusively active when he use them.
Ronin throws the dagger away after marking it again and try summoning it with eyes diverted while not thinking of it(which didn’t work), while looking at it(which works) and while thinking of it(which works but it takes too much concentration and worsened his headache, making him nauseous and vomit.
“Ok, so to summarize, your symbol on a metal can be erased with a whetstone marked with the same symbol. You can summon and store anything you deem yours, even though we don’t know the distance it can cover. You cannot mark people as possession, for now atleast. Now the only thing left to see is how many runes we can place on a single material with your symbol” Warzheil says, as he extends his hand demanding something from Ronin.
“What?” Ronin asks
“Your blood, as a catalyst.” Warzheil says
Ronin hesitantly cut his thumb’s skin, dripping a few drops of his blood into a vail.
Warzheil and Ronin experiments, forged, learn from one another. Ronin hammers according to Warzheil’s guidance.
Warzheil got envious of how fast Ronin learn stuff, he learned the runes he taught to him while drawing them on the spot.
Slowly, day turned to dusk. Finally they achieved a results beyond their expectations.
The spear now blazes with an even intense heat as ronin holds it away from his face
“Something like this was only thought to be possible in the Legends of Legendgod. I can’t believe it, I just made the first weapon of this world made of a Uru body, with otherworldly technology and 4 major and 2 minor enchantments.” Warzheil stumbles into the support of the table holding his head as his eyes flutter in disbelief, a strange curl creeps up his lips.
“Not even the ancients could craft something like this. A technologically advanced weapon that rivals primordial weapons owned by the gods. This is world’s 1st Techmordial weapon.!” He yells out in a mix of disbelief and excitement.
Ronin cannot meet the brightness of the tip of his own spear with his right eye so he looks at it with his left eye.
“This feels like cheating, it’s as if I am looking at a piece of sun in my hand.” Ronin says in disbelief
“Something this absurd must never be revealed to anyone Ronin. Put it away.” Warzheil says
“But, this is the only weapon I have. what do you mean put it away?” Ronin asks
“I have the blade that the demon lord use to stab you.” Warzheil takes out the blade from his pocket “How about I make you another slicing spear? Just put your symbol on it”
Ronin is tempted to refuse but he too realises how lethal this spear has become. It was 3000 degrees Celsius as is, but now just holding it feels like I am holding a steel rod straight out of magmas of hell. Uru truly is the metal of myths, it’s not melting under the sheer temperature of the tip.
He etches his symbol on Ramoon blade as Warzheil held It up.
“You look tired, go rest. Tomorrow, a hunt team competition will be held, this can be a good chance to go and absorb some good things and get stronger. I felt some unwelcomed guests this morning in the market. Probably looking for you or me, if they follow you, you can get a nice excuse to take them out too.” Warzheil suggests
“Why do I feel like you are talking too smart ever since we got to this village?” Ronin asks with a heavy chuckle
“What the hell do you mean? I was always smart, but meeting you messed me up.” He passes the blame on Ronin
“Sure.” Ronin says as he walks out of the forge and shuts the doors behind him.
He takes the right and walks as thoughts swirl in his mind. He heard people whispering about Drax. “That sure spread like wild fire.” Ronin thinks
As Ronin neared the mansion with his shoulders slumped with tired demeanour, he sees Kade sitting under a tree—sad.
“Where were you all day long? Where is the Old man?” He asks upon seeing Ronin approach.
“He is in his forge. Might be late.” Ronin says “Why the long face?”
“Oh…heard about Lord Drax. The news have already spread. But I am afraid Gloria is not faring well. She ran off to the cliff near her practice area.” He says
“What?! You didn’t stop her? What if something happened to her?” Ronin says as he gets a jolt of uneasiness and his calm demeanour changes.
“Grandma Sil did go behind her…..” Kade says but stops mid-sentence seeing ronin had already blitz off, leaving a trial of dust behind him.
“Shit, I can’t have the daughter of my client die. Drax just had to pay me with this ‘God’ role, what a pain!” Ronin thinks as he runs through the twists and turns of the forest, forcing turns, shaking entire trees. Finally he arrives to the practice area, and slows down to a jog seeing Sil return with a face that has seen failure.
“Ronin! Just the person I needed. Kid, maybe you can soothe that child. Can you do it? She refuses to come back. Maybe someone her age can help her.” She asks with sad and expecting gaze.
“I will..try my best.” I say as I slowly jog away. I slow down, quietly approaching the edge of the cliff, as I emerge form the woods I squint my eyes.
The cliffside is breathtaking. The sky is ablaze with a fiery tapestry of oranges, reds, and purples, the setting sun painting the Kobe River with liquid gold. And there, beneath a Sprawling tree with perfectly spaced branches, sits Gloria, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped, curled enough to watch the sunset.
My footsteps are silent as I near her, but she senses my presence. She quickly wipes her face, putting her mask on again, and straightens her posture, as if bracing herself for the encounter.
“This is the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen,” I say, my voice soft, more a statement than a greeting. “Do you always come here?.”
“What do you want?” she asks, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.
“May I sit with you for a moment?”
“Be my guest please” her voice dripping with fake happiness, a painful pretence.
“This is such a beautiful place. It seems like the perfect spot to share thoughts, to… talk.”
“If you are here to offer pity, I don’t need it, especially from a mortal who only live a mere 100 years, who know nothing of loss.” she snaps, replacing her sweet words just early her anger momentarily flaring.
” I knew about your father’s passing, I fought to protect his remains from being stolen too, But I hid it. Fearing it would upset you like it did.”
I lower myself to the ground, leaning back against the tree trunk. “So no, I am not here to pity you, Gloria.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully. “We all carry some sort of pain. Why do you think your pain is greater than that of any other being?”
She’s silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the setting sun. Then, she speaks, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. “I thought you were a good and tough person.” The words are a raw, open wound, the pain seeping through her carefully constructed facade. “Turns out another ignorant human acting like he knows it all.”
“That’s not…” I start, but she cuts me off.
“You don’t understand! Non of you mortals do. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone, to crave a parent’s love, to train and fight for their approval, only to be discarded like trash. You don’t know what it feels like to be replaced by a some fake god.” Her voice cracks, the dam breaking, and tears stream down her face.
Her vulnerability shakes me, and for a moment, I’m at a loss for words.
“Did she figure out that I am her father’s God? No, she wouldn’t call me a mortal if she did.”
“I had always tried my best to become powerful, so that I can gain affection of my father but he never paid heed to me. All I wanted was his love. I never got t experience the love of my mother, I grew up alone. He always trained me ruthlessly, put a divine power blocker on me. But I smiled through it, so that he would be proud of me.”
I brace myself and speak, my tone steady and sincere. “I do understand, Gloria. More than you think.”
Her head snaps toward me, her tear-streaked face a mixture of disbelief and anger. “How could you, a wild mortal orphan, possibly understand?”
“It must be nice having such strong father, huh?” I say, a sense of self pitying settles on me.
“Ronin, leave. I am not in mood to listen to useless wisdom.” She says curling back into her rigid form, tears dripping from under her mask with occasional sniffs.
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “Fine, to make you feel better, I will tell you a tale of a cursed man of death.” Gloria’s ears twitch.
“He was a child, had a family, better than most people.” A nostalgic sensation takes over me. “His grandfather, father and his mother worked very hard and became very rich. He had a younger brother and a baby sister too.”
Gloria is silent. The wind blows, leaves rustle. The river’s flow clash.
“Then, Life happened. Slowly, the kid saw his parents disappear, killed in accident, not even a hair to be found. Then his younger brother died of slow poisoning at age of 7.” Ronin said
“That doesn’t sound like a normal death.” Gloria whispers as her sobbing slows down.
“The kid had to grow up, he did all he could so that fate couldn’t step on his family anymore. His grandfather taught him how to survive, how to fight. But his will took a hit when the only pillar holding him together, his grandfather disappeared too. Leaving him and his baby sister, who was only one at that time, alone.”
“…..” Gloria is silent.
Ronin continue, his voice steady.
I pause, the memories clawing at me. “The man was seventeen, When his grandfather disappeared without a trace. But By then, He was juggling Academics and part-time jobs to provide for her. Finally he managed to graduate early, earning recognition as a genius in his field.” Ronin says, on which Gloria lets out a sigh of relief.
He continues “But just when he thought he was finally moving forward, everything was torn away again.”
Gloria turns her head slightly towards me, I can see her doing so from edge of my eyes as I gaze at the beautiful scene of sunset in front of me.
I clench my fists, the weight of those days pressing down. “A shady group abducted his sister.”
“No…” Gloria exhales in a whisper.
“He sold everything, His inheritance and his parent’s home, to find her. After six desperate days, he was approached by an organization—the Shadow Company. They promised to help him find her if he worked for them, as if they knew his skills before hand. Desperate, He agreed, becoming their tool of slaughter. For twenty-one years, He worked in the shadows, earning the name ‘Ronin, the Man of Death.’ But in all that time, He never stopped searching for Ava.” Ronin says
“This…is your story?” gloria says in a low voice as she realises. Looking at Ronin with pity under her mask.
Ronin continue. “Eventually, I learned the truth. The same organization that employed me had taken her, twisted her into someone I barely recognized. They told her lies, made her believe I was the one who sold her out.”
“That’s so cruel. How did you get through it then?” Gloria saws in a sobbing voice. She is such an emotional person.
“How? I destroyed the source of my suffering, I destroyed the Shadow Company, piece by piece killing even relatives involved with the downfall of my family, but it was too late. She hated me. And still, I searched for her, even after everything.”
Silence falls between us, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of the river. Gloria’s voice trembles as she whispers, “I… I am so sorry. I am so ashamed of myself, judging you without knowing… anything.”
Ronin offer her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Gloria. We’ve all made mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them.”
She nods, wiping her tears with trembling hands on her chin. For the first time, her mask seems to slip away completely, revealing the person beneath the bitterness and anger.
“Like it thought, you are very beautiful Gloria. ” He say mesmerised by her beauty, no wonder she is a goddess.
She puts her hand on her face, realising her mask had slipped off. she immediately puts her mask on.
“Y-y-you saw it!” she says in a squirrel voice curling into herself even more, embarrassed as a tint of red spread down her neck and her ears glow pink, her hair start glowing in the slightest.
“I am sure your father loved you dearly. Gloria” he say, which seems to calm her.
“I am sure, he was trying to make a future where you can live peacefully.” he say
“You really think he loved me?” She asks
“Who knows? Maybe you will see the results of his hard work in near future.” Ronin say assuring her with a smile.
Ronin’s cheeks hurt with all the smiling, so he relaxes his face turning back into the usual indifferent expression.
“Gosh, it’s hard to smile. See? Don’t become like me. Smiling hurts after so long.” Ronin says
“But some things don’t match up.” Gloria asks
Ronin turns around and grunts in question “hmm?”
“You said you worked for 21 years, after being 17 years old. Your age doesn’t match up” Gloria says
Ronin puts up a poker face but his headache just got worse.
“Oh, I just exaggerated the age, my head is killing me. Do you have a remedy for that?” he asks and his distraction works.
“Oh yes I do, I am hungry again, let’s go eat something as well.” She suggests enthusiastically.
And so, They talk. Sharing their story, dream and goals. The sun dips below the horizon, painting the world in shades of twilight as they forge a fragile connection.
Ronin begin to see himself anew with a renewed sense of purpose in his heart.
At the end. Ronin returns to his allocated room and resign himself to sleep.
In his dream, he feel himself fleeting again. In the same black space, but this time able to see a white laminate of his barrier around himself.
He tries to touch it.
It wobbles ever so slightly becoming stable. It feels like a part of him, unlike when he uses it passively.
what’s even more uncomfortable is the fact that he can think this clearly even though he realizes that this is a dream. This only happened to him 4 times during his time on Earth.
Though of Frey’s well-being crosses his mind. Did she get caught and executed? Nah, there is no way she will go down easy. He thinks
he continues to float. Bored, he tries some of his theories, imagines a plane, and it appears. An imaginary green grass land with a dim atmosphere. It felt like he was in a virtual world.
He tries to wake up, and surely he does.
Looking at the moon outside the window it seems like its middle of night.
So he returns to his mind realm again.
This time he tries to control his barrier. As if sucking air from a soup bubble to reduce its size. And succeeds, it feels so easy that he wakes up again and tries it, but it doesn’t work. He tries all night and finally manages to only feel his barrier after sacrificing his sleep.
His heavy mind gives up and he falls on the bed and sleeps.
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