A whole day had passed.

  A whole day since that…event. I pushed it to the back of my mind. But it never left. But it doesn’t escape me. Never did.

  Was I scarred by that? No…not necessarily. Scary, not scary enough. Maybe it’s crazy to say, but I’ve had scarier moments in fencing.

  But what came after?

  The weight still lingered in my palm, like my fingers hadn’t realized it was gone.

  The way it vanished, like it was never mine to begin with?

  Yeah.

  That’s what gets me.

  This…this place? This world? That sword? The monster?

  It makes no damn sense.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, the hot sun out here doesn’t make it any better for me. But…that’s better than nothing. I’ve walked. Walked. And Walked.

  Let me tell you. This wasn’t even the worst thing. Walking those endless miles that stretched on for time? That wasn’t even the worst place.

  What actually was worse…was this damn town.

  I adjust my poncho. Looted it from a nearby hut, not too far from the farm. Someone must’ve left it and never came back for it.

  Or died from that disgusting behemoth of a creature. I could believe it. The two locations weren’t that far off.

  Plus, it looks nice on me. It has a nice orange-burnt color. With a nice design. At least I can wear this over the hoodie I have for the meanwhile until I get situated.

  Oh, about that sword too. It never came back. That’s what makes me think this world is far more mysterious than I thought. It had a weird aura to it. Everytime I think about it I can feel my chest tighten.

  The way it comes in with a flash of light, and leaves. Is it natural for the world? I don’t know. I don’t want to ask anybody around me. They might not know, and I don’t already want to cause more trouble.

  I found this town on my way here. Originally the plan was to continue walking until I found something of interest. This settlement was it. But not the settlement I had in mind.

  Wooden buildings. Carts, and cattle. Even the residents…looked a bit weird—point is, this area looked like something you would find in a Wild West era movie. Although I didn’t find any outlaws or cowboys.

  I exit the alleyway. I had been sitting on the crate for the past hour or so thinking to myself. Making sure I’m not entirely crazy. Which I’m still blessed to not be so far.

  With no clear sidewalk, or street, there’s just one main path that’s dirt. Sand, dust. Whatever you want to call it. People walk on either side and in the central part, is where all the carts take up.

  My eyes dart amongst the residents. They all wear clothing I’m familiar with. Based on the surroundings, environment, and even culture. A few in heavy iron armor. One fully blacked out, red accents.

  But…what gets me is the actual people.

  I walk behind this one. She seemed to be a short lady, wearing a nice dress today. I don’t blame her much, it is a good day. Sun is shining bright. Maybe a bit too bright…or maybe it’s just my eyes playing tricks on me

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But when my eyes trailed up, her brown hair was fleshed into two…ears. Cat-like ears. I blinked again to make sure this wasn’t an illusion.

  No, that’s real.

  That’s reality.

  She turned, perhaps to head into one of these old-timey buildings. But I didn’t pay attention after that. This world gets even weirder the more I try to investigate it.

  The main goal was surviving, but now? I would say it’s more on the verge of finding out more mysteries. If I can’t understand the world. Then maybe I can understand the next thing.

  The sword.

  The rusted sword that saved me. The one that vanished the moment I needed answers. Real helpful. Real convenient.

  My fingers twitch. I don’t know why, but I feel like I should be holding something. The weight of the sword—no, the weight of whatever that thing was—still lingers. Like an itch I can’t scratch.

  I fear if I don’t get that part settled out, it could eat at me forever.

  I stop walking in my tracks, letting the people pass on by me. Where could I learn more about swords? This isn’t fencing 101. There’s no sword shop by the looks of it—

  “...alright! Thanks again!” A voice outloud calls out. The voice breaking past my thoughts let my eyes snap to it. There, a man with a blade in hand. Exiting a store.

  The heavy door swung shut with a dull clang. The scent of iron lingered in the air, strong enough to cut through the dust and sweat of the street.

  I turned my head. That’s when I saw it. The sign.

  Still, unreadable. Still looks like shit. Still looks like chicken scratch. But…there’s a wooden sign above the door. A symbol—two crossed blades.

  Huh.

  Obvious enough.

  I scoff, even so much as let out a chuckle. Of course. The universe throws me into a hellscape with monsters, but at least it has the courtesy to leave a damn signpost every now and then. Real considerate.

  Much less, I’m content with what I have. No use in complaining.

  I wait when the central street is calmed with the cart and cattles, and head on over to the other side.

  By the time I get to said, Armory, I push up the double doors. My boots finally clicking against the wooden floorboards. A sound I didn’t know I would cherish in contrast to dirt or grass.

  The smell of iron, and oil smacked my face early. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, however. Better than that than to be sick—and then walk in here. I would probably have a migraine before I could push open the doors.

  A subtle ring could be heard, I twisted my head. A bell over the door. Must be to alert any new customers.

  When I walked to the…how do I put it. A buying area? I don’t know. All I did see was a long table, from each side. A wall, displaying multiple weapons.

  I could practically recall most of them. Not too much farfetch’d designs—

  “What the hell?” I blurt out. I got near enough to the table to see one weapon in a display case. By itself. Embedded into the table itself with a glass showcase. It looked like a dagger, with an intrinsic design.

  The dagger was curved slightly, its black blade etched with twisting silver veins, almost like lightning frozen mid-strike.

  Seeing that, I had two thoughts.

  Why is it made like that?

  And,

  I know people who would pay good money for that back at home.

  Although they would treat it more like a plaything than an actual weapon…

  Whatever. I retrain my thoughts, and see a big, bulky man exiting a door. That must be where the actual armory is.

  The man looked like he had spent more time with metal than people. His beard was rough, hands coated in grease, but there was something about the way he carried himself—like he could forge a blade in his sleep.

  He greets, “Welcome to the town’s best, and only armory. How can I help you today Adventurer?”

  I furrow a brow. Adventurer? That’s what he thought this was? Like I was some wanderer who did this for fun? Yeah, sure. Love getting chased by monsters and looting corpses. Highlight of my week.

  I didn’t bother correcting him.

  I’m not going to hammer it into his head that I’ve been doing this all against my will. I’ll keep it brief.

  “How much do you know about longswords?” I ask him. My tone clear and concise. I don’t play on dillydallying around, and my posture only vitalizes my point. I’m serious.

  His brow lifted slightly, either surprised by my tone or amused by it. I wasn’t sure which. But I wasn’t here to waste time.

  He broke out into a laughter. I would be lying to say that didn’t startle me, but I’m here to get straight to business.

  He wiped a tear from his eye before continuing, “How much I don’t know? Come here for a repair? Perhaps wanting to strengthen it? I can give you a discount on a few materials.”

  I shake my head. Sounds like a regular car-salesman talk to me. If I ever do come here again though, and maybe with a better understanding, I wouldn’t hesitate on wanting a weapon to protect myself.

  That being, if said weapon who was my…knight in shining weaponry would stop being mysterious. But alas, that’s what I came here for.

  “I…I managed to somehow utilize a sword that only disappeared after. What more can you tell me about that?” I ask him. I strengthen my voice. I’m not sure a type of thing like that is highly unique, and would be perceived as a lie.

  Just to make sure that he believes me.

  Or the monster I fought—stay on focus Lucien. Blade.

  The shopkeeper looks at me. Gazes at me almost. His smile falls. My finger twitches. Did I strike a nerve? Did I overshare just a little bit?

  He opens his mouth, looking towards the display case in the back.

  “I see. Well, to put it frank my friend. There’s two possibilities.” He says. I listen intently for his next words.

  “...you are either a very great magician…” He trails off, his tone getting darker. What he’s about to say next might not be possible. But I’ll listen anyways.

  “Or, you have a Pact Weapon.”