Ryuma sat in the corner of the cave, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded in boredom. Across from him, his so-called rival—Kaz—sat in silence, unmoving. The tension between them was thick, pressing down on the space like a coiled beast waiting to strike.
There was nothing to do. Nothing to kill. Nothing to fight.
Ryuma hated it.
Every time Kaz so much as shifted, Ryuma's hand instinctively twitched toward his sword, his intent crystal clear. A silent challenge. A dare. But Kaz never took the bait. He simply reached for the pool of water, cupping a handful to drink.
Ryuma scowled. What a waste.
But then—finally—after what felt like an eternity, Kaz stirred. He rose to his feet, gripping his crude bone sword, and turned toward the cave's pathway.
Ryuma's lips curled into a grin.
"Mind if I tag along?"
Kaz hesitated, his expression shifting for the briefest moment—a quick grimace, gone as fast as it came. Then, just as quickly, he forced a smile.
Ryuma almost laughed. Fake. He'd seen plenty of those before. His sister wore one all the time—an aggravating, practiced thing meant to deceive. But Kaz's was different. It wasn't the kind of smile that schemed or concealed some hidden plan. No, Kaz knew Ryuma had other intentions, yet he didn't call him out on it.
That was why Ryuma liked this guy.
Kaz shrugged, his voice casual.
"Yeah, why not?"
They made their way through the passageway, shadows stretching long and jagged under the dim glow of the cave. When they stumbled upon the Regent Scorpions, Ryuma barely spared them a glance. His rival, still inexperienced, hadn't made a move yet. Caution, hesitation—understandable.
As Ryuma carved through the creatures, he felt Kaz's gaze locked onto him, studying him, dissecting every movement. But it was useless. No one could understand his swordplay. It was prideful, melodic, confident—designed not just to kill, but to dominate. Each strike sang of superiority, of inevitability.
They walked on, the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts. Then Ryuma noticed—Kaz had fallen a few steps behind, his stance shifting, his grip adjusting. He was trying to mimic him.
A grin stretched across Ryuma's face. Bold. Foolish. But interesting.
colors—deep crimson swirled with gold, veins of obsidian running through its core. It pulsed faintly, as if alive, as if it recognized him. Ryuma's breath hitched for a moment. This was fate. No—this was his right.
Kaz stepped closer, eyes scanning the altar with something unreadable in his expression. He didn't rush, didn't react, just observed. Ryuma found it mildly irritating. Did he not feel it? The power? The sheer weight of what was in front of them?
"The craftsmanship is interesting," Ryuma muttered, brushing his fingers along the engravings. The sensation sent a shiver up his spine. It was almost like the stone was whispering to him, waiting.
"These are Lineage Stones," he continued, his voice lower now, reverent. "They hold the strength of those who came before."
Kaz's gaze flickered between the two altars. One bore the image of a beast, wild and untamed. The other, something trapped—bound in endless struggle. Two forces intertwined in a dance as old as time itself.
For once, Ryuma wasn't sure which one he would choose.
Then, he caught a deathly glare from Kaz.
Ryuma frowned. What was his problem? All he was doing was looking at the stone.
"What?" Ryuma scoffed, letting out a small chuckle. "Come on, these are our Lineage Stones. I can't believe we found them so fast."
He reached out, fingers inches from the dragon stone—
Then he stopped.
Kaz's expression had darkened. His posture shifted, tense and alert. His eyes weren't on Ryuma anymore—they were scanning the cave, tracking something unseen.
A low breath left Kaz's lips, quiet yet heavy with warning.
"Ryuma… prepare to fight."
"Prepare to fight."
Ryuma blinked. What was Kaz talking about? Was this it? Was this his chance to fight his rival? Surely not—
But then he saw it.
A Regent Scorpion lunged from the darkness, its bladed limbs slicing toward him. Without hesitation, Ryuma cut it in two.
Then another came.
Two. Four. Ten.
They kept coming.
Dozens turned to hundreds, waves of creatures swarming from the abyss. And then, variety—different forms, stronger beasts, an evolving onslaught.
The curse's voice echoed in his mind, relentless.
"You have slain."
"You have slain."
"You have slain."
It was getting annoying. He loved the fight—lived for it—but having every kill announced over and over again? That was just irritating.
Then, something new caught his attention.
A talisman hung in the air, glimmering as it descended. Ryuma snatched it with his free hand, barely sparing it a glance—until the curse spoke again.
"You have received the talisman: Eyeless Sense."
His grip tightened. A slow, simmering anger burned in his chest.
Was this an insult?
Did his rival think he was weak? That he needed a crutch?
He was Ryuma. He had trained his whole life. He was stronger than Kaz—he had to be. And yet, here he was, given a talisman, as if he needed help. As if he was lesser.
But then he noticed something.
Kaz was moving differently.
Not just fighting, but adapting. Learning. His stance had changed—his grip more refined, his strikes precise. No longer just reacting, but controlling the battle.
Ryuma's eyes narrowed.
Prideful. Melodic. Confident.
Kaz looked stronger.
The more unpredictable the battle became, the more he seemed to thrive. Like he fed off the chaos, drawing strength from the disorder.
And then Ryuma saw it—Kaz's stance.
It was his stance. A crude copy, far from perfect, but improving with every passing second. He was watching, learning, mimicking.
Interesting.
But then Kaz faltered.
A Rock Drake barreled into him, sending him flying.
Ryuma, mid-swing, cutting through a Basilisk, glanced at the unfolding scene. The drake closed in on Kaz, talons poised to end him.
And for the first time, Ryuma asked himself—was Kaz worthy to be his rival?
He sighed. Maybe not. Maybe he wasn't different after all.
The scorpions around him fell like paper, his sword carving through them with ease. These beasts were nothing. He could slay them all without breaking a sweat.
Then, movement.
Kaz stood. Bloodied but unbroken.
A sword formed in his grip—summoned from nothing. In a single fluid motion, he cleaved through the drake.
Ryuma's lips curled into a grin.
Maybe he was worth something after all.
The battle raged on, but Ryuma's mind was made up.
He didn't care about Kaz. Not really.
But if Kaz had died just now… Ryuma would've been pissed.
Because finding another rival would be annoying.
After what felt like an endless battle, it was finally over.
The cavern was silent now, save for the distant echo of their ragged breaths. Ryuma rolled his shoulders, crimson streaking his blade as he exhaled through his nose. It was time.
Time to claim his strength.
But before he could reach for one of the stones, Kaz's voice cut through the quiet.
"I thought you were gonna leave me behind."
Ryuma barely spared him a glance. The thought had never crossed his mind. Why would he run? Why would he retreat? To flee was to admit weakness. To admit weakness was to accept defeat.
And Ryuma refused.
If he lost to anyone unworthy—if he ever fell short—then he was nothing more than a roach, like the ones who huddled together in their pathetic school clubs called clans. Frauds. Jokes.
He let out a sharp sigh.
"I couldn't do that," he said, voice low. "Our Lineage Stones are here. And we can't leave them."
Kaz didn't reply.
Ryuma turned, his gaze locking onto the stone—the one with two spirals trapped within a perfect circle. Something about it called to him, whispering promises of power, of inevitability.
Without hesitation, he strode forward, reached out—
And the moment his fingers brushed the surface, a violent force threw him back.
He twisted mid-air, backflipping in the process—only to land face-first.
Figures, he thought.
Ryuma sighed before pushing himself up and making his way toward the dragon stone.
"I guess the dragon one is mine," he muttered, exhaling.
Kaz gave a small smile, and Ryuma mirrored it as he reached out. The moment his fingers touched the stone, a surge of power pulsed through him.
But just as he began to vanish, his expression darkened.
A massive scorpion lunged out of the shadows, its claws slamming into Kaz and sending him flying. Ryuma's hand twitched toward his sword—but it was too late.
The light consumed him.
In an incandescent flash, he was gone.
Drifting in the void of his mind, Ryuma heard the curse whisper to him:
"Excellent. You have done well. Calculating your reward... Trait Evolution—Dragon Emperor."