The walls rumbled, splitting apart.
A golden light flared from within, spilling into the dark chamber. Alvin's blue eyes widened as he took in the hidden brilliance.
Towering golden walls. Piles of treasure. Countless coins glittering under the radiant glow.
For a moment, the pain in his body faded. His mind blanked.
"Close your eyes!"
The voice rang out, sharp with urgency.
Alvin barely had time to react before his vision wavered. An eerie pull slithered into his mind, dulling his thoughts, luring him into a daze.
"You're an intruder! The treasury is trying to trap you in an illusion!"
His breath hitched. He forced his eyes shut, snapping out of it just in time.
The voice was closer now.
"I'm right in front of you. Stretch out your hand and pull me free."
Alvin hesitated for only a second before reaching forward.
Nothing. Just air.
Then... his fingers closed around something solid.
A sudden pulse of energy surged through him.
Pain erupted in his body. His muscles screamed. His wounded hand burned.
But he gritted his teeth and held on.
The pain finally subsided.
"You can open your eyes now," the voice said.
Alvin hesitated, then slowly lifted his gaze.
And there it was.
A black sword.
Pitch-black from tip to hilt, its surface swallowed the light around it. Even the golden rays from the walls failed to reflect off its blade.
One look was enough to tell, it was no ordinary weapon.
Before Alvin could process it, the voice spoke again.
"I know I'm handsome but try not to stare too much."
Alvin flinched.
"This is… you?"
"Yes, I am." The sword's voice carried a quiet certainty, as if it had never once doubted its existence.
A brief pause.
"Hold me in your right hand."
Alvin gritted his teeth, struggling to grip the sword with his injured hand. His fingers barely responded, his arm hanging uselessly at his side.
Blood dripped onto the black surface as he forced his grip around the hilt.
A jolt ran through his limb.
His fingers twitched. Sensation flooded back.
'I… I can feel it. My hand… I can finally feel it!'
His relief was short-lived.
"Don't get too excited. You've only regained sensation. It still needs to heal."
Alvin frowned. "Then, how do I heal it?"
"Healing comes at a price."
A chill crawled up his spine. "Price?"
The sword's voice remained cold. Indifferent.
"You were bitten by a ghoul. The infection is spreading. If you want to be cured… you must sacrifice a life."
"And the worst part? The sacrifice must be of your own race. And you must be the one to kill them."
A heavy silence filled the chamber.
Alvin exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching.
"Figures. Nothing comes without a cost."
The sword's voice echoed in his mind.
"Indeed. But let's get out of here."
"I've been sealed in this cursed domain long enough."
"Relax. This isn't the end."
RUMBLE!
The ground beneath Alvin shook violently before collapsing under him.
"W-what?!"
He barely had time to react before the stone crumbled away, sending him plummeting into the darkness.
'I'm so dead.'
Instinctively, he reached for his wind energy when,
"Don't worry too much," the sword said casually.
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?!'
SPLASH!
Alvin crashed into an underground river.
The current pulled him forward, the world around him pitch black. The water rushed past, dragging him deeper into the unknown.
The sword's voice cut through the rushing waves.
"This current will take us to the surface."
Alvin's mind raced.
"We're deep underground. How the hell is this supposed to lead to the surface?"
"Trust me, boy. I've known this route for a millennium."
He let the current carry him, drifting through the darkness.
The water levels were rising.
Alvin glanced up. The pitch-black void above was now pierced by rays of sunlight.
And he was being pulled straight toward it.
But there was a problem.
The stream was moving too fast.
As soon as he reached the chasm's mouth,
WHOOSH!
The river launched him into the air along with a massive surge of water.
"Cough—cough!"
Alvin swam toward solid ground, coughing and gasping for breath.
He gasped, chest heaving.
For a moment, he simply lay there, soaking in the sunlight, the wind, the undeniable fact that he was still alive.
Then, laughter bubbled up. He couldn't help it.
"Ha-ha… ha-ha-ha-ha!"
The sheer relief of being back under the open sky overwhelmed him.
As he caught his breath, his earring slipped off.
A shimmer of mana faded.
The illusion broke. His true face was exposed.
The sword spoke.
"So, this is what you really look like, huh?"
"Just as I thought… you're using an artifact to conceal your identity."
"So… what's your name, boy?"
Alvin slipped the earring back on, his identity once again hidden.
"I am…"
He trailed off.
A thought crept into his mind.
'Ever since transmigrating into this world, I seem to have so many names.'
'Alvin' - this body's name.
'Whisper' - his Twilight Crown alias.
'Ghost' - the name given by the Council to hunt me down.
And my real name, Henry.
'Wow… talk about irony.'
The sword's voice cut through his thoughts.
"You are what?"
Alvin snapped back to reality.
"I'm just a nameless person still figuring out what I want to do."
The sword hummed.
"Hmph. A nameless fool, then."
Alvin ignored the jab and shifted the topic.
"What about you? A grand sword like yourself must have a name, right?"
The sword replied, its voice filled with pride.
"Indeed, I had a name that made kingdoms tremble in fear."
"I was called... the Black Sword."
Silence.
Alvin blinked.
Once. Twice.
"That's it? Just… Black Sword?"
He expected something legendary, something with weight, history.
The sword simply replied, "Yes."
Alvin sighed, shaking his head.
As he stood, he pulled fresh clothes from his storage bracelet, tearing them into long strips.
Carefully, he began bandaging his right arm, ensuring the Black Sword remained firmly in his grip.
The weapon had restored feeling to his limb, but the pain lingered. He couldn't afford to drop it.
"Hey, boy."
The sword's tone shifted, deeper this time.
"So, what are we going to do now?"