"There is nothing here," said Lucy, her voice sharp with annoyance as she bent down.

She scooped up a crown overflowing with jewels, and tossed it aside like it was trash.

The crown hit the ground with a dull clatter, gems scattering light in every direction.

It was the kind of thing that could buy a small-sized country.

Yet, here it was, abandoned and treated like nothing.

"Weird, I thought I saw it clearly earlier," I said, mostly to myself.

I kept pondering, my eyes moving slowly across the scene in front of us.

Hills of gold rose around us like frozen waves, stacked high and careless.

As if someone had poured wealth into the land and walked away.

Gold plates, coins, and broken ornaments lay everywhere.

It kept eflecting light until it almost hurt to look at them.

And yet, despite all of that, something felt wrong.

Something was missing.

"Maybe someone took it?" Rebecca added from the sidelines.

She stood a bit farther away, arms crossed.

Clearly uninterested in joining Lucy in digging through piles of gold.

Her eyes scanned the area cautiously, not with greed, but with suspicion.

She looked like she expected trouble rather than treasure.

Lucy straightened up and dusted her hands.

Then added from the sidelines, "What even is this thing you're talking about?"

Her tone carried both curiosity and doubt.

Like she wasn't sure whether to take me seriously or laugh it off.

I turned to look at her, trying to find the right words.

"It was a black sword," I said slowly, making sure not to rush the memory.

"It felt unusually out of place."

Even as I spoke, the image stayed clear in my mind.

Amid all that gold and shine, the sword had stood there, dark and quiet.

Like it didn't belong to the world around it.

"A black sword, huh." Lucy repeated the words, holding her chin as she thought.

Her playful attitude faded, replaced by something more focused.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, she didn't say anything at all.

Then suddenly, her eyes widened.

Before I could react, she rushed toward me.

Her movement was fast, almost frantic, and it caught me off guard.

She grabbed my hand without asking and lifted my palm up between us.

"Hey, what are you, " I started, but she was already chanting words under her breath.

They weren't loud, but they carried weight.

Each syllable falling into place like it had been practiced a thousand times.

The air around us felt tight, like it was holding its breath.

A black mark slowly appeared on my palm.

It spread outward in thin, sharp lines.

Forming a symbol I had never seen before, yet somehow felt familiar.

The mark was dark, deeper than shadow, and it pulsed faintly, as if it were alive.

Lucy stopped chanting and stared at my hand.

Then she whispered, almost to herself, "So it's true."

The way she said it sent a chill through me.

I looked from my palm to her face, searching for answers.

She finally met my eyes and said,

"You wouldn't believe this, Ragnar, but you've become an echo user."

The words hung in the air, heavy and strange.

I opened my mouth to ask what that even meant.

But… Lucy kept going.

Her voice steady now, like she had stepped into a role she knew well.

"An echo user is someone who gets chosen by one of the six spiritual swords," she explained.

As she spoke, her grip on my hand loosened.

But…she didn't let go completely, as if afraid the mark might vanish.

"Each one of the six swords represents an element.

Light.

Dark.

Fire.

Water.

Earth.

Wind."

She paused, letting that sink in, then continued, "And each sword can appear randomly.

They say they choose their wielders themselves."

I stared at my palm, the black mark still glowing faintly against my skin.

My thoughts felt slow, like they were moving through thick air.

"Is that so?" I said quietly, unsure of what else to say.

As if sensing my intention, the black mark on my palm suddenly lit up with blinding light.

The glow was intense, forcing me to squint.

And the air around my hand vibrated with power.

Then, without warning, something formed from the light.

A sword rested in my hand.

It was black, just like I remembered.

It's surface smooth and dark, absorbing light instead of reflecting it.

The hilt fit perfectly in my grip, as if it had always belonged there.

I clenched my hand around it, and the feeling rushed through me all at once.

It wasn't heavy, but it was definitely there.

Solid, Real.

Alive in a way I couldn't explain.

I took a step back, then another, walking away from the two girls.

The ground crunched softly under my boots as I moved, the sound oddly calming.

My heart was pounding, but my mind felt clear, focused.

Without turning back, I raised the sword and struck the air.

The motion was smooth, natural.

The sword released a black arc of dark energy, sharp and fast.

Cutting through the space in front of me.

It rushed forward and slammed into a nearby wall.

The wall crumbled like paper.

Stone and dust exploded outward.

And collapsing in seconds, leaving nothing but rubble where it once stood.

The sound echoed through the chamber, then faded into silence.

I lowered the sword slowly, staring at the destruction.

"Damn," I said under my breath, a mix of shock and awe in my voice.

"My power with this has just increased by two times."

Then Rebecca looked at me.

Her eyes flicking between my face and the crumbled wall in front of us.

The dust from the debris still floated lazily in the air.

Catching the light and making the scene look almost unreal.

She walked toward me slowly, her steps deliberate.

As if each one carried a question she didn't know how to ask yet.

When she reached me, she stopped, tilting her head slightly.

Her dark hair fell over one shoulder as she studied the mark still glowing faintly on my palm.

"Can you… please hand me the sword?" she asked, her voice soft but carrying a strange excitement.

"I want to try something."

There was a spark in her eyes, a mix of curiosity and something else.

Something that felt like daring me to say no.

I glanced at the ruined wall again, then back at her.

The black sword was still resting lightly in my hand, the hilt warm, almost alive, as if it had its own thoughts.

I nodded slowly, wanting to see what she had in mind.

"Alright," I said, holding it out toward her.

But the moment I moved my hand closer, intending to give her the sword, something unexpected happened.

The weapon vibrated sharply in my grasp, like it had sensed my intention and didn't like it.

I felt the subtle resistance first, then a stronger pulse running up my arm.

My fingers clenched reflexively, unwilling to release it.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, my eyes widening as the sword shivered violently.

It wasn't angry exactly, but it definitely wasn't ready to leave my hand.

The vibrations traveled through my palm in sharp, erratic waves.

Making the sword feel alive in a way that was almost too intense to control.

Rebecca's eyes went wide as she watched, a mixture of awe and confusion crossing her face.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the sword disappeared.

Vanishing into the black mark etched on my palm.

The glowing lines swallowed it back, the light dimming until only a faint shimmer remained.

I looked down at my hand, still clenched in the memory of its weight.

And feeling the lingering pulse as if the sword had left a small echo of itself behind.

Rebecca's jaw dropped slightly, and she took a step back, blinking.

"It… it just went back?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, staring at the black mark as if it had suddenly become a living puzzle.

"I've never seen anything like this," she murmured, awe and frustration mixed together.

I exhaled slowly, still staring at the mark.

"Yeah," I said, my voice low, still caught between amazement and disbelief.

"It… it doesn't want to leave me, I guess.

Or maybe it only obeys me."

My mind raced with the implications, the sheer strangeness of it.

The sword had a will of its own, a power beyond just cutting or striking.

And now Rebecca had seen it too, caught in that moment between wonder and shock.

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