Scene change: The following morning.
Athena stood at the threshold of her dorm room, clad in the adventurer's uniform she had received the day before, her eyes fixed on something ahead of her.
"Looks like you're all set, Athena-chan. Are you ready for your first quest with the Adventurers' Guild?" Amyra stood before her, smiling warmly.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm ready," Athena replied, giving her a respectful salute.
Amyra chuckled at her formality. "Today, I'll be your guide. I'll show you how to take on a quest, complete it, explain the rules, and how to claim your rewards. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Athena answered enthusiastically.
Amyra glanced at her and noticed something. "Where's your weapon, Athena-chan?"
"I… don't have one. Ever since I fought The Beheaded, I've been using your sword," she admitted.
"I see…" Amyra said, pausing thoughtfully. "Well, before we head out for your quest, let's find you a proper weapon. I know a renowned weaponsmith in Leyndell who might have something suitable for your class."
"Alright, let's go!" chirped Mary.
Scene change.
Their footsteps echoed softly on the cobbled floor as Athena, Amyra, and Mary arrived at an old weapon shop tucked away in a narrow alley of the city. The building was sturdy, but the paint on the shop sign had long since started to peel, revealing the establishment's age. Behind the dusty glass windows hung an assortment of swords, axes, and spears, each appearing to tell a story of its own.
Amyra pushed open the heavy wooden door, a small bell chiming sharply as they stepped inside.
"Come on in. This is a good place," Amyra said with a faint smile. "The owner's a bit rough around the edges, but he knows his weapons."
The air inside smelled of alcohol and tobacco.
A burly man with a graying beard emerged from behind a rack of weapons. His eyes were sharp like a hawk's. He must have been pushing fifty, but his muscular arms still looked like they belonged to an active soldier.
A cigar dangled from the corner of his mouth.
"Amyra?" he grunted, voice hoarse yet tinged with warmth.
"Hey, George. Long time no see," Amyra greeted him casually, like two people who'd done business many times before.
George nodded, then eyed Athena and Mary. "And these are?"
"Athena," Amyra introduced. "A new adventurer. She needs a weapon."
George gave Athena a quick once-over, unimpressed. "Hmm."
Without another word, he walked to one of the walls and pulled down a long sword in a gleaming black sheath. "This," he said, "Valorian steel, hand-forged. Light and deadly. Five hundred gold coins."
Athena blinked. "Five hundred?!"
"That's the price for a good sword, girl," George said, narrowing his eyes.
"Err... do you have anything cheaper?" she asked meekly.
George sighed and returned the sword to its place. Then he retrieved another one from the lower rack. "This one's two-fifty. Sturdy and flexible. Bit older, but it'll still cleave a goblin's head like slicing an apple."
Athena glanced at her coin pouch. The reward from defeating The Beheaded One had been generous, but not that generous.
Amyra shifted awkwardly. "Maybe something even... cheaper?"
George scoffed, giving them a withering look. "You kids these days always want cheap and strong. Weapons aren't toys. Be picky, and you'll die on the road."
Mary stuck her tongue out at George quietly but didn't say anything.
As George launched into a lecture on the importance of investing in quality gear, Athena's eyes wandered to a dusty corner of the shop. There, hidden behind a display case, sat a large barrel covered in cobwebs.
"What's that?" Athena asked, stepping closer.
George followed her gaze and snorted. "That? Junk. Leftover stock—damaged, defective, or old swords."
But Athena was already standing before the barrel, eyes locked on one blade inside—a weathered sword, its blade dulled by time yet strangely intact. Small thorn-like carvings ran along the blade, and its hilt was wrapped in tattered cloth.
Her hand reached out and grasped the hilt.
And in that moment, the world changed.
Everything went black. Silent. No Amyra, no Mary, not even George. Only herself, standing alone in an endless void. Time stood still, and a coldness seeped into her bones.
Athena froze, eyes wide. She felt herself swallowed by the darkness, and from the depths of her mind came a whisper—guilt. Loss. A woman's sobs echoed faintly, like a ghost of sorrow.
Then—suddenly—she was back.
"Athena!" Amyra called, grabbing her shoulders.
Athena gasped, breath catching. She was back in the shop. Mary fluttered anxiously near her face.
"W-What just happened…?" Athena murmured.
George approached, eyeing the sword with a guarded expression. "That… is known as The Kingslayer. Legend says it once felled a king in a single stroke. But most folks are too afraid to buy it."
"Some call it The Blade of Guilty," he continued. "There's a story… that this blade was forged from the sins of a woman seeking redemption. No one really knows for sure."
Athena stared at the sword, her face pale but her eyes gleaming. "Is it... cursed?"
"This sword… devours guilt and sin from its wielder, making them feel remorse even for things they've never done," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Once it makes a pact with you, you can never be free of it."
Athena swallowed nervously. "Really?" she whispered.
"Well, that's just an old tale. Who knows?" he said, straightening up.
"One hundred gold coins. No one wants it anyway. But be warned—it's no child's toy," he shrugged.
Athena hesitated, eyes darting between the old swordsman and the mysterious blade. George chuckled at her indecision. "Up to you, girl."
He placed the guilty sword back in the barrel. "That's an artifact," he said.
"Take whatever feels right for you."
Considering the cheaper weapons, Athena looked again at the cursed sword. Its aura seemed to call to her, mesmerizing her with its presence.
"I-I think I'll take that sword..." she said.
"Huh?" George raised an eyebrow.
"The Blade of Guilty. I'll take it," she declared.
"W-What?? Athena-chan, are you serious? That sword is cursed! It could be dangerous!" Mary exclaimed.
"Mary-chan's right, Athena-chan. We don't know what that sword is capable of," Amyra warned.
Athena nodded. "I know… but it feels like it's calling to me..." she said. "And most importantly…"
"It looks so cool. This is totally a Hell Yeah-type sword!" Athena added, eyes sparkling.
Mary shook her head in defeat. "You gotta be kidding me..."
"No doubt in my mind. I've got the gold, it's only a hundred, right? You're selling it, aren't you?" she asked George sharply.
George folded his arms. "It's cursed, you know."
Athena tossed a pouch of coins his way. George caught it mid-air.
"If you're a real weaponsmith, then sell it. You want gold right?, don't treat me like I'm your daughter or something," she said, locking eyes with him.
George frowned, glanced down at the coin pouch, then back at Athena.
He took a deep breath. "Huft... fine. But remember, I don't want you coming back crying to me when it destroys you."
"I won't. I'll tame it," Athena said firmly.
George was silent for a moment. The girl had piqued his interest.
Athena reached into the barrel, her fingers tightening around the hilt as she lifted the sword. She could feel its weight strange and light, yet perfectly balanced.
As she turned the blade in her hands, inspecting it, the thorns along the edge caught the light, glinting like stars.
"Cool," she whispered.
Awe filled her voice. George nodded, satisfied.
He helped her secure it at her waist. "There you go," he said. "Now you're properly armed, little lady."
The sword felt heavy at her hip—heavier than most assassin-style blades—but she'd get used to it.
"Keep it sharp and clean, or it won't serve you well," George advised, arms crossed.
"Thanks, old man," Athena said with a grin.
"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome," George replied.
"Now that you've got a new sword, where to next?" he asked.
"We're heading to the Adventurers' Guild for a quick quest," Amyra replied.
"Well then, good luck," George said, offering a faint smile.
"Wish us well!" Mary chimed in.
They left the shop, heading toward the adventure guild headquarters. Athena glanced at the sword at her side. With her new weapon, she could feel something radiating from it—something beyond metal.
Something… more.