CHAPTER 2: STRANGE POWER
Howard began to explain that Loren had inadvertently become involved in a "Holy War" a brutal war that involved various races from across this strange world. Each participant was chosen to fight one another to collect magical crystals that held extraordinary powers capable of granting a single wish to the victor.
"You’re not from here," Howard continued, his voice low and urgent.
"But somehow, your fate is tied to this battle. If you don’t fight and win a crystal, you won’t be able to return to your world."
Confused, Loren felt like he had stepped into a nightmare.
"But… I don’t know how to fight," he said, desperation creeping into his voice.
"I don’t even know how I ended up here."
Howard fixed him with an intense gaze.
"That’s why I’m here," he replied firmly.
"I’ll teach you, but you have to trust me and train hard. They are after you, especially once they realize you’re unprepared."
As they spoke, Howard elaborated on the threats looming over them. The elven archer that had attacked Loren was part of a predatory group, hunting for magical crystals.
They were not just soldiers, they were ruthless hunters trained to eliminate participants in this war. Loren was now a prime target, marked as the weakest link in this deadly game.
Even more alarming, there were others involved in the war participants who had previously won crystals and now posed a formidable threat. Howard had his own personal reasons for participating, but he withheld those details from Loren, further thickening the air with tension.
Howard leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"This world is governed by ancient battles between six races: Humans, Elves, Undead, Engineers, Dragonian, and Ogres. Each race sends five participants to fight until only one remains. Each race has unique abilities, reflecting their strengths and weaknesses. For Humans, our greatest strengths are courage and adaptability, but we’re also the most physically vulnerable."
“If we’re part of the Humans, are there still three others whose identities we don’t know?” Loren’s mind raced.
"Yes, they’re out there, possibly hiding or biding their time. Each participant has their own reasons and strategies for survival." Howard nodded gravely.
“I don’t have a weapon, and I don’t even know how to fight. How can I survive this battle?” Panic surged within Loren.
Howard rose and opened a box hidden behind a pile of dusty relics.
"Even as a Mage, I’ve kept this legendary sword for a reason.” He held it up a weapon gleaming with an otherworldly light.
"This was given to me by my best friend, Eleanor. He was an extraordinary swordsman, and he entrusted me with this sword, hoping I’d one day pass it to someone worthy. Now, it belongs to you."
As Loren grasped the sword, an unsettling sensation washed over him. Flashes of memories that weren’t his own surged forth scenes of a violent battlefield, grotesque creatures, and the deafening clamor of clashing weapons. Overwhelmed, he nearly dropped the sword.
"That sword holds immense power. Those memories may indicate a deeper connection you have to this battle than we realize." Howard observed him with concern.
“But I still don’t know how to fight. What good is this sword if I can’t wield it?” Loren felt utterly lost again.
Later that night, as Loren wrestled with his confusion, they were attacked again. Three elves that had been lurking in the shadows charged in: an archer, a warrior, and an elven summoner. The summoner wasted no time, invoking the Blinding Light ability, summoning radiant fairies that flooded the cave with blinding brilliance.
In the chaos, the elven archer unleashed the Ensnare Arrow skill. An arrow shot into the air, weaving a magical net that ensnared Loren and Howard. Panic gripped Loren as they were immobilized, their bodies tightly bound. Howard struggled against the net, casting spells that fizzled out under its oppressive grip.
As the light from the summoner's spell gradually dimmed, Loren's heart raced. He looked up to see the elven warrior poised to strike Howard down. In that moment, memories overwhelmed him with renewed intensity.
These flashes ignited something deep within him. Loren felt an unfamiliar power coursing through his veins. With an instinctual motion, he extended his arm, and the legendary sword he had dropped flew back into his grasp, pulled by an invisible force.
Now feeling as though the sword was an extension of himself, Loren moved with a speed he didn’t comprehend. In a swift, decisive motion, he tore through the magical net, launching himself at the elven warrior with lethal precision.
With a single stroke, he cleaved through the warrior’s defenses, sending him crashing to the ground. Howard watched, eyes wide with disbelief and pride.
"You are the one worthy of your Sacred Relic, Eleanor," he said, his voice filled with awe. It was clear now that the sword was meant for a warrior with a grand destiny.
The remaining archer and summoner stood frozen in shock, their earlier confidence shattered. Realizing they were no match for Loren’s newfound power, they turned and fled into the shadows, their frightened whispers echoing through the trees.
Once the dust settled, Loren collapsed to the ground, utterly drained. The exertion had stripped him of energy.
"Who am I?" he gasped, breathless, his mind swirling with questions. Was he just an ordinary human caught in this brutal ritual, or did he hold secrets yet to be uncovered?
"You are not just an ordinary human, Loren. There is immense power sleeping within you, and that sword is only one piece of the puzzle. But we must act quickly; as word of your power spreads, the danger will only escalate." Howard knelt beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
The tension hung thick in the air, an unspoken promise that the battle was only just beginning. As Loren looked into Howard's determined eyes, he knew that their journey would not just be about survival it would be about uncovering the truth of who he really was and the power that lay dormant within.

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