Tales of the Linchpin

Path of a Warrior

The room was utterly silent. David sat flat on the wooden floor, with Lazarus seated directly opposite him. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of the last three months hanging in the air.

"Your training here is done," Lazarus said flatly.

David blinked, caught completely off guard. "What? But... I haven't even mastered spiritual energy yet!"

"Let me finish, boy," Lazarus said, his voice raising just enough to cut him off. "Your training is done *here*, but it isn't finished yet. I have provided the foundation for your next step in life. I am afraid I cannot help you with what comes next... but I can point you toward it."

Lazarus leaned forward, his expression dead serious.

"There is someone who can help you uncover your past. Her name is Kira. She possesses the rare ability to see through a person's memories, even if they have been completely lost or locked away."

David’s eyes widened. His fingers curled, tightening into a white-knuckled fist. "Where can I find her?"

"Listen to me carefully, David," Lazarus commanded, ignoring the question for a moment. "You have made a definitive choice in life. Because of that, you will be stepping into a world filled with equal parts beauty and tragedy. You will meet wonderful, beautiful people, and at the exact same time, you will encounter terrible, monstrous individuals. You will be weighed down by the sheer pressure of it all. There will be days where you feel like the entire world is standing against you."

Lazarus locked eyes with him, ensuring his words sank deep into the boy's soul.

"But no matter what happens... **keep pushing**. Never stop. Do not give up, and never doubt who you are. Believe in yourself. Take absolute control over your mind, spirit, body, and soul—because at the end of the day, no one will ever understand you better than you, David."

David listened intently, his legs crossed and his chest tightening with emotion.

Lazarus stood up smoothly and walked into his back room. A moment later, he returned. Resting across his palms was a sleek, breathtaking weapon: a pristine katana with a pitch-black sheath and hilt. He knelt back down, extending his hands to offer the weapon to David.

"This is yours," Lazarus said softly.

David stared at the black steel, frozen.

"You have suffered, and you have walked through an absolute hell," Lazarus continued, his voice thick with a rare, quiet warmth. "You grew up without love, and without care. But you never gave up. You kept pushing. You are not weak, David. You are incredibly strong, and braver than anyone I have ever known to endure this hell of a life."

Lazarus tilted the blade forward. "This blade was given to me by my father, passed down from generation to generation. And now, I am passing it down to you."

With trembling hands, David reached out and took the heavy katana from Lazarus’s grip, his gaze dropping to the floor as his vision began to blur.

Then, a soft, gentle hand came to rest on top of his head. Lazarus looked down at him with a proud, fatherly smile. "You did well, boy."

He moved his hand down to grip David's shoulder firmly.

"You are no longer a nameless curse upon this world. You are now my son. David Zaruthra."

The tears David had been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled over. His chest heaved with a mixture of overwhelming grief and profound joy.

"Thank you, Lazarus," David choked out, his voice cracking as the tears dripped down his face onto the polished sheath of his new blade. "Thank you... for treating me like a human."

Lazarus squeezed his shoulder one last time, his own eyes softening. "Now, now... let's get you prepared for the journey ahead, shall we?"

"Yeah," David said, using the back of his hand to clear his eyes.

"One more thing," Lazarus added, his voice hardening. "We need to talk about your essence. Since you weren't able to stabilize it over the past three months, do not use that compression technique of yours no matter what. I want you to keep training your flow exactly like I showed you. With time, you will figure it out safely. The woman I mentioned, Kira, is an old friend of mine. It's been years since I last saw her, but she stays somewhere in the northern region of Imo. Your journey begins in a week, so get ready."

(Northern Region, Imo — One Week Later)

The evening air settled with a strange, biting chill. The entire atmosphere felt heavy, as if a localized drain were siphoning the life from the land.

Both Peter and Hiron had finally arrived at a small trading village located in the outer district of Imo.

"This place is quite strange," Hiron murmured, looking around.

"Yeah... it just doesn't sit right with me," Peter replied, adjusting his gear.

As both men walked through the village streets, they noticed a suffocating quiet. No one was passing by.

"This place is supposed to be a major trading center for the village, right?" Peter asked, his hand resting near his weapon. "Why is it empty?"

"Yeah, but by the looks of it... it’s dead silent," Hiron replied.

Their boots beat rhythmically against the dirty ground as they scanned the shuttered windows.

"Hey, look. Someone's over there," Peter pointed out, spotting a lone figure up ahead. They picked up their pace to approach the man.

"Good evening, sir," Hiron said, keeping his voice gentle and non-threatening. "We would like to ask you a few questions."

The man turned, his eyes darting around frantically. "Who are you, and what do you want in a place like this?"

"We are pantheon warriors," Hiron answered firmly. "We were sent by the Southern Command on a mission to investigate the sudden disappearance of the villagers."

"Shh! Don't speak so loud! They might hear you," the old man hissed, terror painting his face. "Follow me. Quickly."

The old man turned and hurried down a narrow alleyway, leading them toward his home. Peter and Hiron kept sharp, their eyes scanning the rooftops and alleyways as they moved. Every door they passed was barred tight. The silence was deafening.

They finally reached the old man's house and stepped inside. Peter and Hiron remained standing, completely alert, while the old man took a weary seat.

"Take a seat," he sighed, gesturing to a pair of wooden chairs.

"We need answers, sir, and we would deeply appreciate anything you can tell us," Peter said, stepping forward.

The old man took a deep, shaky breath. "The people of this village have been mysteriously disappearing. They are never found again, not even their remains. When others went out to search for the missing, they became victims too. This nightmare has been happening for the past few months. People are terrified to step outside. My own daughter... she went missing recently." His voice broke, trembling violently. "I searched endlessly for her, but I found nothing."

The room fell into a heavy silence as his words sank deep.

"We know how incredibly hard this is for you right now," Peter said softly but resolutely. "But we promise to do our best to find out what is causing this. If your daughter is still alive, we will bring her back."

The old man looked up, tears in his eyes. "Thank you so much. You can rest here tonight; I welcome you as my guests."

"We will rest and begin our investigation tomorrow morning," Hiron stated.

"Of course. Let me show you where you can sleep."

The old man led them to a cramped, small spare room, just large enough to fit two people. Peter and Hiron unbuckled their heavier gear and laid down on the cots.

For a few minutes, there was only silence. Then, Hiron turned his head, his eyes sharp in the darkness.

"Peter," Hiron called out in a low, intense whisper. "Get ready. We start this at midnight."

Peter blinked, shifting on his cot. "What do you mean? I thought we were starting tomorrow morning."

"Can't explain right now... just get ready," Hiron whispered back, his voice dead serious.

Peter sighed, checking his gauntlets. "Whatever you say."

--

Outside, high above the quiet streets, a dark shadow stretched across the corner of the roof. A hidden figure looked down at the old man's house, a sickening grin widening in the dark.

"We have some visitors, huh? Let's have some fun."