THE RISE OF SWORD MAN

THE ASH AN THE EDGE

The smoke from the burning village of Oakhaven choked the stars out of the sky.Dominic, now fifteen years old, sprinted through the Whispering Woods, his chest heaving. In his right hand, he gripped the wooden practice sword he had trained with for eight long years. The blisters of his childhood had long since hardened into thick, unyielding callouses. His molten-silver eyes, usually calm and analytical, were wide with sheer terror.He had been in the mountains gathering firewood when the first screams echoed up the valley. Now, as he broke through the tree line, his hometown was unrecognizable. Homes were collapsing into roaring infernos. Red-cloaked men on horseback—the Blood-Flesh Bandits—rode through the dirt streets, laughing as they cut down fleeing villagers and tossed torches onto thatched roofs."Father! Mother!" Dominic shouted, his voice cracking.He ran toward his family's stone cottage at the edge of the village. The heavy iron forge door had been smashed open. Outside, three heavily armored bandits stood in a semi-circle, their steel weapons dripping with fresh blood.In the center of the ring, heavily wounded and on his knees, was Garrick.The old warrior’s chest bled from multiple deep slashes. His face was covered in soot and blood, but his grip on his ancient, glowing longsword—the blade he had locked away for fifteen years—never wavered. At his feet lay Elena, motionless, her eyes staring blankly at the smoke-filled sky."Mother..." Dominic whispered, the word dying in his throat. A cold, suffocating void opened in his stomach."Is this the legendary Iron Vanguard?" the lead bandit mocked, a massive man with a jagged scar running across his throat. "You’ve grown soft in your old age, old man. Giving up the capital to play dress-up as a blacksmith."Garrick didn't answer the taunt. He coughed up dark blood, his gaze drifting past the bandits to see Dominic standing at the edge of the clearing. Garrick’s silver eyes widened in desperation."Dominic... run!" Garrick roared with the last of his strength. "Do not look back! Run!"The scarred bandit captain turned, his cruel eyes locking onto Dominic. "Ah, the cub. Kill the boy. Leave no bloodlines left to seek revenge."Two bandits grinned, swinging their heavy iron maces as they advanced on Dominic.Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Dominic looked at his mother's lifeless body, then at his father's bleeding frame. Something snapped deep inside his chest. The fear that had paralyzed his limbs suddenly evaporated, replaced by a blinding, white-hot rage.The sword-shaped birthmark on his right forearm didn't just warm up—it burned like molten iron. A strange, humming vibration shook Dominic's bones. He didn't drop his wooden practice sword. Instead, he gripped it with both hands."Die, brat!" the first bandit yelled, bringing a mace down toward Dominic's head.Dominic didn't step back. His eight years of relentless stance and balance training took over instinctively. He sidestepped the heavy blow by a fraction of an inch, pivoted on his heel, and channeled the entire weight of his hips into a counter-strike.CRACK.The hickory wood struck the bandit’s exposed temple with the force of a battering ram. The wood didn't break; instead, a faint, silver aura flared around the tip of the practice weapon. The bandit’s skull fractured instantly, and he collapsed into the dirt, dead before he hit the ground.The second bandit gasped in shock, but before he could raise his shield, Dominic lunged forward. Driven by pure instinct, he thrust the wooden sword straight through the bandit’s iron breastplate. The wooden tip pierced the metal armor as if it were soft butter, embedding itself deep into the man's chest.Dominic pulled the wood back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The silver light around his hands faded, leaving his palms smoking from the heat of his own energy. He had just killed two grown warriors with a toy."Impossible..." the bandit captain muttered, stepping back. "That power... you're the Child of the Prophecy!""Get away from my father," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. His silver eyes glowed faintly in the darkness."Dominic... no..." Garrick weakly called out.The captain’s shocked expression turned into a sinister smirk. "An untrained brat with a glowing stick doesn't frighten me."With unnatural speed, the captain lunged, not at Dominic, but down at the weakened Garrick. His broadsword flashed in the firelight, plunging straight through the old blacksmith's heart."NO!" Dominic shrieked.Garrick choked, his hands tightly gripping the captain's blade to hold him in place. With his final ounce of life, Garrick looked at his son, a fierce pride shining through his pain. "The forge... is yours, Dominic. Be... the steel..."Garrick's head fell forward. The Iron Vanguard was dead.The captain yanked his blade free, but as Garrick collapsed, the ancient longsword he held slid across the dirt, stopping exactly at Dominic’s feet.The moment Dominic's bare skin touched the steel hilt of his father's true sword, the world went completely silent. The crackle of the flames, the howling wind, and the screams of the village all disappeared.A massive shockwave of silver light erupted from Dominic's body, blowing back the smoke and shattering the windows of the burning cottage. The broadsword birthmark on his arm glowed so brightly it shone through his tunic. The heavy steel weapon felt completely weightless in his hands. It didn't just feel like an extension of his body; it felt like a part of his soul.The bandit captain stumbled back, terror finally washing over his face. "What are you?!"Dominic raised his father's blade, pointing it directly at the captain’s throat. The silver reflection of the steel mirrored the cold, dead vengeance in his eyes."I am the man who is going to hunt you down," Dominic whispered.Before the captain could even raise his shield, Dominic vanished in a blur of silver light. A single, clean arc of steel cut through the night. The captain's head hit the dirt a second later, his body collapsing into the ash.Dominic stood alone amidst the ruins of his life, holding the blood-stained sword. He knelt beside his parents, tears finally streaming down his soot-covered cheeks. He had no home left. He had no family.The boy blacksmith was gone. The Rise of the Swordsman had truly begun.Now that Dominic has taken his first step on his quest for vengeance, what should happen in Episode Three?