The Heart That No Longer Beats

  After dispatching the official letter to his father, Rin set out toward the mana vein, determined to witness the truth with his own eyes. As he ventured deeper into Willowshade, the silent cries of the village echoed in his heart, each step dragging the weight of their suffering heavier upon his soul. The path was lined with the remnants of what once was—a thriving village full of life. Now, all that remained were crumbling homes and fields where the soil had long since given up hope.

  The air was thick. Not just with the scent of decaying vegetation and stagnant water but with something heavier.

  Despair.

  Children, once the heart of the village, sat motionless in the shade. Their hollow eyes stared at the cracked earth that had long since stopped answering their prayers. Lips dry, cheeks sunken, their bodies were too weak to hope.

  A little girl clutched a bundle of twigs, her small hands trembling. But the twigs crumbled, slipping through her fingers.

  Rin’s chest tightened.

  Nearby, a mother knelt beside her son. Her fingers brushed his forehead, her touch light, almost fearful—afraid that too much pressure might shatter what little life was left. The boy’s skin was pale, his breaths so faint they barely stirred the air. A thin trail of dried blood stained the corner of his lips.

  “Please…” Her voice cracked, barely louder than the wind stirring the dead fields. “Just a little longer…”

  Her eyes, once warm, were hollow now empty, resigned. She didn’t see Rin. She didn’t see anything anymore. Her lips kept moving, whispering desperate prayers to a world that had long stopped listening.

  “Stay with me… please…”

  How many more?

  Rin’s throat tightened as he scanned the village.

  Rin’s gaze passed over a broken cart and a rusted plow—remnants of a harvest that would never come.

  A weak cough broke the silence. Rin turned.

  An elderly woman sat near the village square, her clothes tattered, colors faded to nothing. A wooden bowl filled with murky water trembled in her hands. She lifted it to her lips but paused, her fingers unsteady.

  “Drink, Mother.” The younger woman beside her pushed the bowl back, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The old woman shook her head, her eyes filled with quiet acceptance. “No, child… you need it more.”

  “I’ve… lived enough.”

  But Rin saw the truth.

  There was no life left to live. Not here.

  A frail cry shattered the silence.

  Rin’s head snapped around.

  A boy, no older than ten, stumbled out of a shack, clutching his stomach. His wide eyes were filled with panic. He staggered toward the village well, but his body gave out.

  He collapsed.

  Face-first into the dirt.

  “Damn it!”

  Rin sprinted forward, heart pounding. He knelt beside the child, hands hovering, unsure where to begin. The boy’s body was frail, his skin stretched thin over bones that should have been full of youth and strength.

  Rin pressed his hand to the boy’s chest. A faint flutter.

  Barely there.

  “Elysia!” His voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

  Elysia was already there, her hands glowing softly as she channeled healing magic. But the glow flickered.

  “His mana…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s… almost gone.”

  Rin’s blood ran cold. Mana wasn’t just power in Dominara—it was life. Even those without magic had traces of it, keeping their bodies in balance. But this boy… his mana was almost completely depleted.

  “How…?” Rin’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  Elysia’s magic stabilized the boy just enough to keep him breathing, but her face was pale. “This… this isn’t natural, Rin. Something’s draining them.”

  Rin’s jaw clenched, his mind racing. The bandits? No… this was beyond them.

  Something darker.

  He stood slowly, his gaze sweeping across the village once more.

  Starving children.

  Dying mothers.

  Empty eyes.

  A village on the edge of death.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Then, he saw it. Beyond the lifeless fields, a faint shimmer in the air. Barely noticeable—but Rin’s instincts screamed.

  A siphoning field.

  A curse, draining the very life out of Willowshade.

  Rin’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. His heart pounded with quiet, simmering rage.

  “They’re not just stealing mana…”

  Rin’s thoughts seethed, his gaze hardening. “They’re killing these people… little by little.”

  He turned to his mage.

  “Ronin.” Rin’s voice was calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable. “Guide me to the mana vein.”

  Ronin’s face grew pale. “Young Master… beyond it, they can see us.”

  “Who?”

  “The bandits.” Ronin’s expression darkened. “They guard the mana vein… day and night.”

  Rin’s eyes narrowed. “How many?”

  “Ten. All first awakenings.”

  Rin’s gaze sharpened. “Can you defeat them?”

  Ronin’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “Young Master, this is reckless!” Ronin’s voice was firm, but Rin’s expression didn’t waver.

  “Do you have another way to save these people?”

  Silence.

  Ronin looked away. “No… but—”

  “Then follow my order.” Rin’s voice was steel. “Capture them. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

  Ronin’s hesitation lasted only a moment. His eyes hardened with resolve. “As you wish.”

  “Meteorite Strike.”

  The chant echoed through the air.

  Twenty fiery meteors tore through the sky, crashing down on the unsuspecting bandits. Flames engulfed their camp, and when the smoke cleared, only two remained—barely alive.

  “Darius.” Rin turned to his knight. “Take them. Deliver them personally to our county.”

  “Yes, Young Master.” Darius saluted, dragging the injured bandits away.

  The Cursed Blade’s Fate

  Rin’s focus shifted. The mana vein.

  But something was wrong.

  At its center… was a sword.

  A black blade.

  Ominous. Pulsing with malevolence.

  [Tyrant of Commerce Activated]

  [Eye of the Merchant sees the potential of the target.]

  [Weapon: Demon Sword (Partial)]

  Grade: Legendary-

  Skills:

  Mana Absorption: Absorbs mana from surroundings.

  Mana Reflection (Partially Sealed): Releases absorbed mana with devastating force.

  “A… demon sword?” Rin’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  Elysia’s eyes widened. “A demon sword? Here?” Her voice trembled. “Don’t tell me… it’s the source of the curse?”

  “No.” Rin’s gaze hardened. “It’s not a curse.” He knelt, his hand hovering over the blade. “It’s the sword’s skill… siphoning their mana.”

  “Selina.” Rin turned to the priestess. “Purify it.”

  Selina, a second-class awakening priestess, stepped forward. She raised her staff, her hands glowing with divine energy.

  “Purify!”

  The light struck the sword… but nothing happened.

  Again.

  “Purify!”

  Failure.

  Rin frowned. “We’ll wait for a higher awakening priest.”

  “Let me try… one last time.” Selina’s voice was desperate.

  Her staff glowed brighter.

  A surge of ominous mana erupted from the sword.

  The mana vein responded—doubling the surge.

  The air became heavy.

  Unbearable.

  Everyone dropped to their knees, even Rin. The surge intensified.

  Everyone… was losing consciousness.

  Even Rin felt himself fading… until—

  A golden-white light.

  Rin’s eyes widened as the ring materialized in his hand.

  “What…?”

  "A radiant glow of golden-white light erupted from the mysterious ring, its brilliance illuminating the darkness. The light surged forward, enveloping the demon sword in its ethereal embrace. For a moment, the air trembled—as if the very essence of corruption resisted—before the light pierced through, shattering the taint and purifying the blade with divine finality."

  [Tyrant of Commerce Activated]

  [Eye of the Merchant sees the potential of the target]

  [Weapon: Holy Sword]

  Grade: Legendary+

  Owner: ???

  Skills:

  Mana Absorption

  Mana Reflection

  Holy Sword Protection

  ???

  Rin’s eyes widened as the once-corrupted blade gleamed with a newfound radiance. The sinister aura was gone—replaced by a divine brilliance that pulsed with pure, sacred energy.

  “It… changed,” Rin murmured, his voice laced with awe and disbelief. “A holy sword…?”

  The sword pulsed again, sending a wave of mana that surged outward stabilizing the village.

  Healing. Restoring.

  Everyone stirred, their strength returning.

  “Rin…” Elysia whispered. “What… happened?”

  Rin exhaled, his body still trembling. “I’ll explain later.”

  Elysia and Lucien stared in shock.

  “A… holy sword?” Lucien murmured.

  Rin’s gaze remained locked on the blade. “Why does it list an owner? Is the original wielder… still alive?”

  He stepped forward, reaching for the sword.

  It didn’t budge.

  Everyone tried. None succeeded.

  Rin frowned. “Are you Mj?lnir?”

  With a sigh, he stored it back in the System Storage.

  “We’ll figure this out later.”

  For now, he had a promise to fulfill.

  A Promise to Forgotten

  Rin turned to the villagers, his gaze steady yet filled with unspoken sorrow. His voice, though quiet, carried a promise that echoed through the broken hearts around him.

  “Food. Shelter. Life… I won’t let your children starve, and I won’t let this land wither any longer.”

  Rin’s voice trembled with quiet resolve, his eyes reflecting the weight of their suffering.

  “I swear… you will never be left to endure this agony again.”

  As dawn painted the sky with hues of gold and crimson, Rin and his companions stood in solemn silence, heads bowed alongside the villagers. They honored those who had been lost—those whose sacrifices could no longer be repaid.

  But this time… beneath the weight of grief, a fragile spark stirred in the hearts of the living.

  Hope was no longer a distant dream.

  It was returning—one breath, one promise at a time.