The Sword God's Second Life

The Forth Rider

A blade came out of nowhere and drove into Voss's side before he could turn fully toward the horn's direction.

Voss staggered, more surprised than hurt, blocking a second strike from a rider who'd dropped silently from the trees above — a woman in dark leather armor, face covered, moving with the same trained precision Voss had shown moments earlier.

"Who are you?" Voss demanded, circling her, sword raised.

The woman didn't answer. She struck again, fast, forcing Voss on the defensive.

Mei pulled John back against a tree, pressing a hand against her bleeding shoulder. "Stay behind me," she whispered.

"Who is she?" John asked.

"I don't know," Mei said. "But she's not with Voss."

The stranger fought with a style John didn't recognize — nothing like the Duncan Clan's techniques, nothing like Mei's either. She moved low and fast, striking joints and pressure points rather than aiming for kills, disabling Voss's sword arm with a precise cut before he could react.

Voss dropped his sword, clutching his arm, backing away. "This isn't over," he said, glaring at Mei. "The clan will send more."

"Then they'll keep losing men," the stranger said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was calm, controlled. "Leave. Now."

Voss hesitated, weighing his odds, then turned and retreated into the trees, cradling his injured arm.

The stranger sheathed her blade and turned toward Mei and John. She pulled back the cloth covering her face, revealing sharp features and eyes that studied John with unsettling intensity.

"You're further along than I expected," she said, looking at John. "Most children with that mark can barely walk by this age, let alone kill grown men."

Mei stepped protectively in front of John, wincing from her shoulder wound. "Who are you?"

"My name is Ren," the woman said. "I've been tracking Voss's unit for three weeks. I didn't expect to find the boy already targeted this early."

"You know about the mark," John said.

Ren nodded. "I know more than you'd like, probably. Including the fact that you're not the first child born with it in the past decade. And you won't be the last."

Mei's grip tightened on her blade despite the pain. "Voss mentioned another child. Six years ago. Said the clan already killed him."

Ren's expression shifted slightly. "They think they did."

The words hit the clearing like a stone dropped into still water.

"What does that mean?" John asked.

Ren crouched down to his eye level, studying him carefully. "It means the boy they thought they killed six years ago is still alive. And he's been looking for others like him ever since."

Ren led them off the main trail toward a hidden camp deeper in the forest — a small clearing with a fire pit, supplies, and enough cover to avoid detection from the sky or the ground.

She treated Mei's shoulder wound quickly and efficiently, clearly no stranger to battlefield injuries.

"You said you've been tracking Voss for three weeks," Mei said, gritting through the pain. "Why?"

"Because wherever Voss goes, the clan's marked-children operation follows," Ren said. "I've spent the last two years hunting down every lead on children like him." She nodded toward John. "Most I found too late."

John sat by the fire, processing everything. "The boy from six years ago — the one who survived. Do you know him?"

Ren's hands paused briefly over Mei's bandage. "I know of him. Never met him directly. But everything I've heard says he's building something. Gathering others with the mark, training them, preparing for something bigger than just staying hidden."

"Preparing for what?" Mei asked.

"To go after the Duncan Clan directly," Ren said. "Not to hide from them anymore. To end them."

John's chest tightened at the name. Something about the words settled into him with unexpected weight — not fear, but recognition, like hearing an echo of his own thoughts from someone else's mouth.

"How do we find him?" John asked.

Ren studied him for a long moment before answering. "You don't find him. If what I've heard is true, he finds you. Marked children draw attention eventually — to enemies and allies both."

Mei shifted uncomfortably despite her injury. "I don't like this. Getting involved with some hidden resistance against the clan puts a target on all our backs."

"You already have a target on your back," Ren said flatly. "The moment Voss reported back — and he will — the clan will send a larger force. Hiding in villages won't work anymore. Not after today."

Silence settled over the camp. John stared into the fire, turning over everything he'd learned in the last few hours. The clan that had killed him in his first life was still hunting children marked the same way he was. And somewhere out there, another survivor was building toward open war against them.

"I want to meet him," John said finally. "The boy from six years ago."

Mei's head snapped toward him. "John—"

"I'm not asking permission," John said, his voice steady despite his small frame. "I've spent this entire life running and hiding. I'm done running."

Ren studied him again, something like respect crossing her features. "That's the same thing he said, when I first heard about him."

That night, while Mei slept off her injuries near the fire, John sat awake beside Ren, unable to shake the questions circling his mind.

"You said most children you found, you found too late," John said quietly. "What happened to them?"

Ren's expression darkened. "The clan doesn't just kill marked children when they find them early. Sometimes they take them instead. Raise them under clan control, use the mark's abilities for their own purposes."

"Raise them how?"

Ren hesitated before answering. "There's something about the mark none of you fully understand yet — not you, not Mei, not even me completely. It's not just a bloodline signature. It's tied to something the clan lost decades ago. Something they've been trying to recover ever since."

"What is it?"

Before Ren could answer, a twig snapped somewhere in the darkness beyond the firelight.

Ren was on her feet instantly, blade drawn, positioning herself between John and the sound.

A figure stepped out from the treeline — cloaked, face hidden, moving with the same unnervingly precise gait Ren had shown earlier during the fight with Voss.

"Ren," the figure said, voice calm and familiar. "It's been a while."

Ren's stance shifted from defensive to something more complicated — recognition mixed with tension. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," the figure replied, "hunting Voss's unit alone." The figure's gaze shifted past Ren, settling directly on John. "Especially when you've already found what I've been looking for."

John's pulse quickened. "Who are you?"

The figure pulled back the hood, revealing a young man — no older than fourteen or fifteen, but carrying himself like someone far older, the same unsettling contrast John recognized from his own reflection.

"My name's Aiden," the young man said. "Six years ago, the Duncan Clan tried to kill me. They failed." He glanced at the mark faintly visible beneath John's collar, glowing again despite the darkness. "Looks like they've been busy trying again since."