Chapter 6: Finding A Greedy Old Friend
Master Shinro froze, stunned. He echoed Kage’s words in a hushed, disbelieving tone.
"The... Grand Academy?"
Kage nodded with confidence.
"Yes."
Relief flooded through Master Shinro—so overwhelming that Kage’s brow furrowed, though he dismissed whatever troubled the old man’s thoughts.
’For a moment, I thought he was different, but he’s still the same kid... desperate to defy his fate.’
He studied Kage with somber eyes dimming.
’If only the Heavens were fair...’
He exhaled softly and responded.
"Young master, isn’t the Grand Academy ambitious when you haven’t mastered the basic footwork principles of the Clan’s Severance art?"
Kage folded his arms, meeting his gaze.
"Oh, that... I’ve mastered it."
Master Shinro stared blankly for a heartbeat.
"Young master, did you forget you collapsed yesterday attempting the third step? The foundation alone contains thirteen steps."
The corner of Kage’s lips curled upward.
"Each step, symbolic of the unique form and impossible synergy of iron and storm. The principle of our Clan, Ganglan."
A smile ghosted across his lips as he exhaled.
"I’ve mastered it, Master Shinro."
The old man’s mouth parted slightly.
’He must have—the revelation he just voiced is only realized after mastering all thirteen steps. It’s an epiphany never written down or spoken to another, a blank canvas for each person to inscribe their own essence into the clan’s principle. If he could speak it, then indeed... he has mastered it. But how is that possible overnight?’
Kage watched the man grapple with confusion and shock.
He understood the poor man’s bewilderment. After all, he’d only just fainted attempting the third step. Yet now, he’d achieved the enlightenment gained at the thirteenth step’s completion in just a few hours later.
Which, naturally, was because in his past life he was able to accomplish that after ten years of relentless training—though it took other siblings mere months, so the achievement held little pride. Right now, however, it proved invaluable.
Because Kage, even in this smaller body, could execute each step flawlessly. He’d spent ten years perfecting it, after all. In fact, he could innovate upon the weaknesses he’d discovered in his past life regarding the clan’s footwork principles.
Master Shinro looked down, murmuring slowly.
"But... how?"
Kage smiled and shrugged.
"I slept, lived thirty years, and woke up."
Master Shinro stared, perplexed.
Kage sighed, fixing the man with a cold stare.
"So, Master Shinro, I’ll expect my father’s response. Please handle this matter urgently..."
He scratched his temple.
"What’s today’s date again?"
Master Shinro answered slowly, still dazed by the young teenager.
"Today is the fourteenth of February, year IX5017."
Kage’s mouth opened.
"Perfect—the Academy’s entrance examination is perfectly timed. Fortune smiles on me."
He allowed a small, unsettling smile, glancing at Master Shinro sideways as he turned to leave.
"We must act swiftly, Master Shinro... We can’t have the bastard scion of the Great Ironstorm Clan falling behind due to something as pathetic as tardiness."
Master Shinro bowed his head.
"I’ll dispatch the message immediately. I’m certain a response will arrive by tomorrow morning."
Kage had already turned away. He stretched with a strained groan.
"Hmm, now I can get proper night sleep—or should I say, a morning?"
He mused as he exited the forge.
Master Shinro watched until Kage vanished completely from the mountain’s hollow caves, then his shoulders sagged and he collapsed onto his haunches.
A moment passed before he realized he’d been under crushing atmosphere and pressure the entire time the young master occupied the forge.
It was impossible to grasp, but the young master had transformed overnight.
Master Shinro stared at the empty doorway.
’Did he truly live thirty years? It almost seems...’
He cut himself short and sighed.
’Old age must be addling my mind. What nonsense am I thinking?’
He rose, grasped the hammer, and studied the cold metal with deep, strange light in his eyes. A moment later, he sighed and began striking it.
***
Kage smiled as he returned to his room.
’Now that’s handled, I must act swiftly too. Father’s response will be predictable—I must prepare for it.’
Though Kage wanted to sleep, second thoughts steered him away from his room toward the armory on the castle’s first level.
The armory had once been a vast hall where clan elders and squad leaders held battle strategy meetings.
Now it served as a graveyard where countless rusted, shattered, corrupted Pure Armaments lay abandoned.
Pure Armaments were what distinguished Purists as Purists—only half the equation, perhaps, but crucial nonetheless.
Pure Armaments were powerful weapons forged from Impure parts through a unique forging method called Purification.
These weapons gained immense power—a purified version of what the macabre creatures once wielded, or so many believed.
One became a Purist only when they finally resonated with a Pure Armament.
The irony of so many failed purifications scattered about struck him as amusing.
Staring at them, Kage couldn’t help feeling he stood among kindred spirits.
[The Witch of Mirrors regards you with intrigue, saying you are finally accepting your reality.]
Kage glanced at the message and smiled.
’Well, yes—with how you relics threw yourselves into making me understand, wouldn’t it be rude to prove a poor student?’
"All these Pure Armaments may be worthless... but even the most worthless things serve a purpose. We are all simply too dense and impatient to discover it."
[The Wolf of the North chuckles oddly, folding his hands and asking what use you’ll find for these wasted failures.]
Kage shook his head.
"A wise person once said failure merely proves steps toward success were taken. Learn to see beyond the surface."
Kage bent down, grasping a shattered sword with a charred blade. He began using it as a probe, driving apart the Pure Armament piles as if seeking something specific.
[Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth observes you, asking what you seek.]
’Something with an appetite. A voracious one, actually.’
Kage drove the broken blade through a cavity in the ground after separating the sword pile.
He knelt, using bare hands to clear dust from the ground, fingers exploring the small cavity. He groaned softly, smiling as his hands found purchase.
’Found it.’
With a more strained groan, he slowly lifted the heavy board that formed the floor.
Beneath lay a stairway descending into the armory’s depths.
[The Sovereigns stare in mild shock, wondering how you discovered such a place.]
’Keep wondering, fellas.’
Kage descended slowly. After several minutes, he emerged in a small, dark chamber choked with cobwebs—the very air seemed woven from shadow and dust.
Only one object occupied this room, and it was precisely what Kage sought.
On the table, shrouded in thick dust and cobwebs, lay a long wooden box adorned with tarnished golden ornaments along its edges.
Thick, twisted rope bound the box shut, requiring considerable effort to cut through. When finished, he dropped the broken blade and heaved deeply.
Cobwebs and grime caked his hair and face, his hands equally soiled.
He studied the long box one final moment, then breathed steadily before slowly pushing it open.
Inside, nestled on red cloth, lay a long, curved black sword. Crimson string bound the hilt and sheath together.
[Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth stares strangely, wondering what malevolent blade this must be to warrant such deliberate containment.]
Kage chuckled softly, gazing at the sword with obvious admiration.
’This... is my clan’s first failure. In my definition, I’d call it our first success, truly.’
He smiled at the weapon.
"Welcome back, old friend."