Kagetsume was already in his hand.
Noah stood alone in the moonlit dojo, its dark wooden floors reflecting the illusion of a pale full moon hanging high above the altar. The dojo's outlines shimmered in hues of blue and black, the colors of the night — calm, dignified, and dangerous. It felt sacred, like stepping into a preserved memory.
He took a deep breath and began to move.
The blade cut through the air in slow, deliberate arcs. Simple slashes, basic footwork — nothing flashy. His movements weren't as fluid as they used to be. His balance was slightly off. There was stiffness in his limbs, a fraction of hesitation that hadn't existed before.
Of course.
This body was young again — sixteen, unrefined, without the tempered strength and muscle memory of his prime. He had to start over, retrain everything from the ground up. Still...
The katana responded.
It turned with his wrist, glided with his momentum, and landed in each stance with the same deadly precision he remembered.
It was like reuniting with an old friend.
After several repetitions, he stopped in place. His breathing steady, his hands relaxed, his grip secure.
Behind the altar, he spotted the sheath — black, elegant, and worn by time. He picked it up and slid the katana into it with practiced ease, then tied it to his waist.
He stood there for a brief moment, his gaze downward.
'Even though my body has changed, you're still adapting to me… sharp and perfectly balanced, just like Master said.'
Then he turned and walked out of the dojo, into the night.
The streets of the city pulsed with life. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, casting warm golden light on cobblestone paths. Vendors shouted, children ran past, and carriages rumbled in the distance. Noah walked calmly through the noise, Kagetsume now sheathed at his side — its weight familiar, grounding.
Eventually, he arrived at a tall stone building marked by a sign with a golden sword and quill: Valewatch Guild.
He pushed open the heavy doors.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted — bustling but focused. Adventurers gathered around tables, barked laughter, and shared drinks. A giant board covered in parchment requests dominated one wall. The receptionist's desk stood at the far end, behind which sat a young woman in her twenties with chestnut hair tied in a loose bun.
She looked up and blinked. Then smirked.
"Lost, kid? The market's that way."
Noah didn't respond. He stepped forward, reaching into the cloth pouch at his waist and placing two glowing purple mana crystals on the counter.
The receptionist blinked again, but this time in surprise. "...Oh. Not lost."
"I want to sell these," Noah said plainly.
She leaned forward, inspecting them, then nodded. "Nice quality. Six silver coins."
He accepted the pouch of coins without a word.
"That'll get you a couple of meals. Want a room too?"
"Yes. One night. Meals included."
"Three silver," she said, and handed him a small brass key. "Anything else?"
"I'd like to accept a few requests. Something short-term. I'm looking to earn some money."
She pointed to the large board behind him. "Help yourself. Fill out a form if you find something you like."
Noah gave a quiet nod, then turned toward the request board — the faintest spark of anticipation flickering behind his red eyes.
The main hall of the Guild was modest in size, but full of life. Adventurers of all kinds crowded around, talking, boasting, bartering. A pair of mages argued over the validity of a spell scroll, while a group of rough-looking mercenaries laughed boisterously in a corner.
Noah ignored them all and headed straight for the mission board.
The wooden frame was large, mounted on the stone wall, filled with parchment notes pinned in place by rusted nails. Each sheet described a different quest—beast culling, herb collection, escort missions, bounty hunts.
He scanned quickly, practiced eyes moving from one to the next until—
There it was.
"Escort Mission – Noble Carriage Guard. Four participants required. Duration: 3 days. Route: South Pass. Reward: 2 gold coins.
A subtle gleam lit up his crimson eyes. And his mouth has a little smirk on it.
'This one turns into a mess later. But after the mess… they pay a lot more.'
Noah reached for the parchment and folded it neatly. He turned toward the front desk again and returned to the receptionist.
"Could I get a quill and a sheet of paper?" he asked calmly.
"Of course," the woman said, handing over the items with a small smile.
He scribbled a quick note for his mother.
"I've arrived safely. It's busy here, but manageable, love you, your son. —Noah."
Then, handing back the note, he added, "Please have this delivered to the Windhill District."
The receptionist nodded. "It'll go out with tonight's post."
With that settled, Noah took the key she'd given him earlier and made his way up the stairs.
Noah returned to the counter with the mission sheet in hand. He placed it on the desk with a light tap.
"I'm taking this one."
The receptionist glanced at the paper, then smiled. "Good timing. They were short one person. Departure is scheduled for tomorrow morning."
"Perfect," he replied with a nod.
She handed him a stamped slip with the mission details. "Give this to the team leader when you meet them at the south gate."
Noah pocketed it and turned toward the stairs. With the day finally behind him, he headed up to the second floor where the rooms were located.
The room was small but warm, with stone walls and a single window overlooking the busy street below. A simple bed, a wooden chest, and a chair made up the furnishings. Noah closed the door behind him, locking it with a soft click.
He placed Kagetsume gently on the table, then sat on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he just sat there in silence, staring at the wall.
"I need to rest well. The mission starts tomorrow morning."
He laid back, letting out a long breath. Sleep didn't come easily… but it came.