In an endless expanse of pristine white void, Sera's eyes snapped open like lightning striking darkness. He bolted upright, his head whipping from side to side as he desperately scanned his surroundings for any hint, any clue of where he might be. The silence was deafening, the emptiness absolute.
"Did I die?" The thought struck him like a physical blow, and grief crashed over his features like a tidal wave. He had been living such a vibrant, purposeful life—he never imagined it would end so abruptly, so violently. But then another realization pierced through his despair like a ray of hope. "That's impossible! I remember Grimbold saving me. I can still feel Gia's healing magic coursing through my body."
As he wrestled with these conflicting thoughts, a sound reached his ears—familiar yet distant. The rhythmic ringing of metal striking metal echoed through the void, each strike deliberate and measured. It wasn't random noise but a purposeful rhythm, like a blacksmith's ancient song. "Blacksmithing?" Sera whispered, and the moment the word left his lips, searing heat washed over him like dragon's breath. Sweat immediately beaded on his forehead and trickled down his spine.
The white void began to transform in slow, dreamlike motion. Wooden beams and cloth swirled through the air like autumn leaves caught in a whirlwind, gradually coalescing into the structure of a hut. But this was no ordinary ogre dwelling—it was magnificent, constructed from the finest hardwoods and crafted with masterful precision that spoke of divine artistry.
Sera stepped through the doorway into what was unmistakably a smithy. The air thrummed with power and purpose as a towering figure worked steadily at an anvil, hammer rising and falling in perfect rhythm. As Sera drew closer, his blood turned to ice in his veins. The object being forged was a blade—not just any blade, but a katana identical in every detail to his own spirit weapon.
The hammering ceased abruptly. "You finally came here!"
The smith turned, revealing a man of imposing stature with flowing white hair and beard that seemed to shimmer with inner light. His piercing blue eyes held depths that spoke of eons of wisdom and power, and his features were carved with divine perfection that commanded both reverence and awe.
"You finally came here, Azrael!"
Sera's world tilted on its axis as recognition crashed over him like a avalanche. Before him stood Sirius, the legendary God of Blacksmithing, forger of divine weapons, one of the most revered deities in the Temple of the Thousand Gods.
"You! All of you tricked me! You killed me!" Sera's composure shattered as rage consumed him like wildfire. "For what? Why did you kill me?"
Fury overrode all reason as he charged toward the god, knowing full well he lacked the power to even cast a shadow upon such a divine being. His anger burned so fiercely that rational thought evaporated like morning mist.
"Calm yourself, Azrael! I haven't brought you here to watch you burn with impotent rage. I am on your side, and I've come to help you understand the true nature of the power you now wield."
But Sera's fury was a living thing, deaf to reason and blind to consequence. He summoned his katana and launched himself at Sirius with murderous intent, his blade singing through the air with deadly precision.
Sirius released a weary sigh, the sound of a parent disappointed in a reckless child, before grasping the katana he had been forging. "I see you won't listen to words. Very well—I'll show you instead. First Core Release!"
The moment those words left his lips, reality itself seemed to buckle. An explosion of golden energy erupted from Sirius's form, flames engulfing his entire being like a divine corona. The fire concentrated around his blade with such intensity that the air itself seemed to burn, before suddenly dispersing as if being absorbed directly into his very essence. Steam rose from his body like incense offered to the heavens.
Sera felt the fundamental change in the atmosphere—power so vast it made his bones ache. He steeled himself and struck with everything he possessed, his blade aimed at Sirius's head in a killing stroke. But the god merely raised his hand, and Sera's weapon stopped as if it had struck an immovable mountain. No matter how hard he pushed, Sirius remained utterly unmoved.
"What is this?" Sera's mind reeled with incomprehension. "Everything changed when he spoke that phrase." The crushing realization hit him—if he couldn't even budge Sirius in a contest of strength, the idea of killing him was laughably impossible.
"Hahaha... now you understand!" Sirius's laughter boomed like thunder. "This is precisely why I brought you here. It pains my divine eyes to witness how poorly you utilize the gift I bestowed upon you."
With a casual swing, Sirius pushed Sera backward as if he were nothing more than an annoying insect. "Now sit quietly while we catch up on recent events."
Sera reluctantly settled himself as Sirius snapped his fingers, conjuring two ornate chairs and a table from thin air. Two cups appeared, steam rising from green tea that smelled of mountain springs and ancient wisdom. Sirius studied Sera with eyes that held both amusement and genuine concern.
"Hahaha... now that I observe you properly, Azrael, you're faring quite well for a fallen god. Oh, that's right—you go by a new name now, don't you? What was it again?"
The taunt in Sirius's voice made Sera's teeth clench as he turned his gaze away in irritation. "Sera," he replied through gritted teeth.
Sirius erupted in laughter so hearty that tears gathered in his ancient eyes. "Forgive my manners," he gasped between chuckles, wiping away tears of mirth.
"You were betrayed by the Level Ones, not all the gods," Sirius began, his tone growing serious. "According to their twisted logic, your divinity had grown too powerful, too threatening to their established order. This world—Zhou—exists outside the gods' orbital influence, which is why mana is unknown here."
Sera listened intently as Sirius explained that mana served as the divine link between gods and mortals, but Zhou had been born from the raw energy shed by the gods themselves, existing in a unique space known only to a select few deities. Sirius methodically brought him up to speed on the political machinations within the Temple of the Thousand Gods.
Finally, Sirius turned his attention to the weapon that had brought them together. "This blade you carry is far more than a mere weapon, Azrael. The Allborn Katana is one of only seven ego weapons to exist in this realm. It was forged from all the elements, making it vulnerable to none, and it possesses skills born from each elemental force."
Sirius rose and approached the blade, lifting it with reverent care. "The Starpiercer technique you've been using is merely a fire element skill, but it can evolve into something far greater. Just as a blade that isn't part of your physical body can become an extension of your very soul, this skill can transcend its current limitations. Every element within the blade has a core, and these cores release tremendous power. Currently, only the fire element has awakened to your call. Your task is elegantly simple."
Sirius returned to his seat, his blue eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. "You must meet your blade's true form."
Sera's mouth fell open as he processed this revelation. "Meet my blade's true form?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sirius chuckled at his confusion before continuing his explanation. "Indeed! Every ego weapon possesses a true form, a consciousness unto itself. You're going to have to commune with the Allborn directly—it's the only way I can see you defeating those bloodthirsty lycans waiting for you in the waking world."
Sera's eyes widened as hope bloomed in his chest like a flower after winter. He had learned two things that filled him with renewed purpose: first, he was still among the living, and second, there was a path to survival through this seemingly impossible situation. Determination blazed across his features as he met Sirius's gaze with newfound resolve.
"Then let's begin immediately."