Chapter 11: Nameless Sword
The dim glow of the forge-flames bathed the stone chamber in hues of orange and bronze. Sword racks lined the walls like soldiers at attention, each blade resting in silence—dozens of them, arranged from plain short swords to thick cleavers with single edges.
Despite the sharp glint reflecting off some blades, Lei Feng didn't feel any weight behind them.
He passed by the first row. Then the second.
His fingers brushed lightly along a sword hilt, only to draw back without interest. Though each weapon bore the subtle metallic sheen of fine craftsmanship, none of them stirred his heart.
These were the so-called Iron Rank weapons. The lowest grade available. Reliable, perhaps, for beginners—but ultimately temporary.
> "They shine like they're proud of themselves," Lei Feng thought with a hint of amusement.
"But once I complete the Class Unlock Quest, the OmniClass God System will reward me with a Bronze Rank weapon. These here… they're only for short-term use. I just need something reliable until then."
He didn't linger. His steps were quiet, but deliberate.
From behind, a gruff voice echoed across the room.
"Oi! I don't have all day, lad!"
The dwarf blacksmith stood near the entrance, thick arms folded across his chest, a battered mug of ale in one hand. His long auburn beard swayed as he huffed, eyes narrowed beneath bushy brows.
"Understood," Lei Feng replied calmly, giving a short nod. Still, he turned back to the weapons, taking a few more paces deeper into the chamber.
Just as he began reaching for a serviceable sword near the corner—something light, nothing fancy—
> DING!
A crisp System Notification echoed silently into his consciousness. There was no sound around him, yet the voice spoke clearly in his mind—detached, ancient, and mechanical.
---
> [OmniClass God System - Directive Issued]
Target Identified: Dormant Legacy Weapon
— Select the worn longsword located 2.7 meters to your left.
Status: Iron Rank (Damaged - Inert State)
Designation: [Unknown]
Embedded Residue Detected: ???
Seal Type: Historical Lock — Category: Forbidden Armament
Compatibility: 87.9% — Chosen by System Recommendation.
Proceed.
---
Lei Feng turned his head slowly.
Buried among more polished weapons, a single longsword rested at an awkward angle on the rack. The scabbard was blackened, chipped along the edges, the hilt wrapped in worn, faded leather.
It looked more like scrap than steel.
There was no glow. No aura. It didn't even seem sharpened.
"That one…?"
Still, he obeyed.
He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the hilt. The leather was rough against his skin, dry with age.
But the moment he lifted it—
A cold tremor shot up his arm.
Not violent. Not painful. But ancient.
Like something had just woken up... and was watching.
---
> [System Update: Weapon Bound]
— Data Stream Incomplete
— True Name: Unavailable
— Origin: Desolate War Era
Current Rank: Iron (Peak Condition, Temporarily Suppressed)
Potential Evolution: HIGH
Note: This weapon bears the mark of a forgotten conflict. It has lost its name, but not its will. Only one chosen by it may wield it.
---
Before Lei Feng could fully process it, a long whistle cut through the air.
He turned.
The dwarf stood still, mug lowered, eyes staring at Lei Feng's hand.
A flicker of something strange passed through his face—recognition? Alarm? Or awe?
Then he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else:
"You picked that damned thing?"
Lei Feng raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"
The dwarf took a few heavy steps closer. "Heh… either you're insane or you've got the weirdest luck this forge's ever seen."
He scratched at his beard, giving the sword a sideways glance.
"That blade's old. I mean old. Dug up during a relic salvage op from the Desolate Continent Battleground. Most wouldn't even lay hands on it, much less choose it."
He gestured with his ale, voice lowering slightly.
"Back then, the Human Alliance, the Three Magic Continents, and the other races fought side-by-side against the Dark Continent's filth. This sword was found buried in the ashes of that war."
He paused, then smirked.
"Of course, these days, everyone pretends the war never happened. We've got peace treaties now. Fancy federations. Even tech revolutions—Acrotech this, Acrotech that."
The dwarf looked Lei Feng in the eyes.
"But this sword? It remembers."
Lei Feng lowered the weapon slowly, his gaze fixed on its dull edge.
There was nothing special about it to the naked eye. Yet…
The moment he held it, he felt grounded. Anchored.
Like something ancient had acknowledged him—without words, without reason.
The dwarf chuckled again. "Hah. Guess it chose you, eh?"
Lei Feng didn't answer.
His mind was elsewhere.
> "This world has roots far deeper than I imagined… There are stories buried beneath its surface. I've only just stepped onto the path—and already, the shadows of history are watching."
But then, he took a slow breath.
> "For now… I'm not ready to seek those answers. First, I need power. When I'm strong enough… I'll dig into the truth myself."
Lei Feng looked down at the aged sword in his hand, then at the dwarf, one brow raised.
"So... I wouldn't have to pay extra for this sword just because it's special, right?"
The dwarf threw his head back and bellowed a laugh, the sound echoing through the forge like a rolling drum.
"Hah! Since it chose ye, lad—it's yours!"
Lei Feng blinked, surprised. "Really?! I'm getting it for free?"
The dwarf's laugh cut off as abruptly as it had started.
His expression twisted into a frown so deep it looked like his face might fold in on itself.
"No."
BANG!
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind Lei Feng as he was practically tossed out of the workshop, a loud clang shaking the hallway.
"Go on then, git! I've got bellows to feed and metal to beat, not time to waste jawin' with bright-eyed brats!" His voice chased him out in his thick mountain accent.
Lei Feng stumbled forward a few steps and stopped, sighing bitterly.
His Corelink bracelet flashed a notification.
---
> 250,000 credits debited from your account.
Balance: 118,000 Credit
Status: Registered
Bank: Celestial Credit Union
---
"...That damn dwarf," Lei Feng muttered. "Didn't even throw in a discount. And he laughed like it was a gift…"
He scratched his head, grumbling as he turned to leave the outer hall.
"Here there," a calm, clear voice rang out suddenly from behind him.
Lei Feng turned—and paused.
A tall figure stood at the far end of the corridor, bathed in a soft golden light that filtered through the glass panes above. The young man walked with easy grace, his long white robes rustling lightly as he approached.
Dozens of curious devices were attached to his belt and shoulder straps—miniature scroll tubes, trinkets of polished alloy, a gleaming compass on one side. A sleek, lacquered longsword rested in a silver-lined scabbard at his hip.
His most striking feature, though, was his hair—long, smooth silver flowing down his back like moonlight, and eyes as clear and blue as crystalline springs in a winter forest.
He gave off the air of someone untouchable—like a warrior-monk from some long-forgotten order.
Lei Feng squinted. What's with his style?
"You don't often see young people dressed traditionally around here," Lei Feng muttered aloud. "Most prefer modern gear—utility jackets, tech armor, synthetic fiber."
The young man smiled politely. "Heh, tradition never truly dies, friend. It simply waits to be remembered."
He gestured toward the forge. "Judging by your expression, I take it your shopping with Mr. Kragnir Stonebeard didn't go too smoothly?"
Lei Feng scoffed. "That obvious, huh?"
The young man chuckled. "He's well known around here. They call him Irongrunt. Known for his short temper, high prices, and zero patience for bargaining. But he's one of the best smiths in the region. If you walked out of there with a blade—especially that one—then I'd say your luck's better than you think."
Lei Feng gave the stranger a more careful look.
He carried himself like someone important. Not in the arrogant way, but with a calm self-assurance. The kind that made others instinctively move aside for him.
He didn't know why, but he felt a faint pressure—as if standing in front of someone just slightly out of reach.
"You know a lot about that dwarf," Lei Feng said.
The young man grinned and scratched the back of his head. "Ah, I guess I do. I've been here a while."
He extended a hand, smooth and calloused.
"I'm Zhan Xi'an."
Lei Feng's eyes lit up, recognition sparking in his mind—not from memory, but from instinct.
Like something inside him had suddenly paid attention.
The name felt... weighty.
Like it would echo.
The wind stirred gently in the corridor, and for a brief second, Lei Feng felt the faint buzz of something—something ancient, or hidden—lurking just beneath the surface.
He shook the offered hand for a hand shake.
And the chapter closed not with a battle, nor a clash of blades...
But with a handshake that would change the course of Lei Feng's path forever.