Jim's eyelids fluttered open.
A white tent ceiling greeted him, the scent of herbs and blood filling the air.
His body ached like hell.
"Ugh…" He groaned, shifting slightly—only for a sharp pain to stab through his ribs.
"Oh, good. You're alive."
Jim turned his head, squinting.
Bob stood beside his bed, casually eating bread.
"…Did you just come here to eat?" Jim grumbled.
Bob shrugged, taking another bite. "I was hungry."
"Also," Marcus added from the side, polishing his crossbow, "we were debating whether we should divide your stuff."
Jim's eye twitched. "You—"
"Don't worry," Bam cut in. "I voted to wait until we confirmed you were actually dead."
Jim let out a long, suffering sigh. "Wow. Such great friends."
Bob patted his shoulder—right on his injury.
Jim yelped.
"Well," Bob grinned, "at least you're talking. That means you'll live."
Jim glared.
Outside the medical tent, remnants of battle still remained.
The land was scorched in places, some areas still smoldering. The army was tending to wounded soldiers, but the atmosphere had shifted.
They had won.
The Black Dragon had been forced to retreat.
And one name was now being whispered across the camp.
Derek.
The mercenary swordsman.
The man who wielded the mysterious greatsword.
Derek, the one who had faced the dragon head-on and survived.
Soldiers stole glances at him, some even bowing slightly when passing.
It was… honestly uncomfortable for him.
As the group sat outside the tent, Karoth approached—this time, alongside a commanding knight.
Both men stood tall, their armor still dented and scorched from battle.
Karoth crossed his arms, looking at the group.
"The Black Dragon has been driven away," the knight commander said. "It likely won't return for a while."
"Meaning our mission is done." Karoth nodded. "We'll be returning to the capital to report our success."
Then—both of them bowed deeply.
"Thank you."
The group blinked.
Bob scratched his head. "Uh… yeah. You're welcome?"
Karoth then turned to Derek.
"As I thought." he said firmly. "A sword from Sword Graveyard is not ordinary after all. I hope you wield it with honor."
Derek didn't respond. He just looked down at the sword resting beside him.
Karoth gave him one last nod before turning away.
And with that, the army marched back toward the capital.
The group watched them leave.
Then they turned to Derek.
Derek sat in silence, the mysterious greatsword resting across his lap.
It still felt unreal.
Bob sat down beside him, eyes shining. "Derek, that sword is insane!"
Marcus leaned in, examining the blade. "Yeah… speaking of which, what exactly is this sword?"
Bam crossed his arms. "I mean, it's obviously special. You saw what it did in battle."
Derek stared at it.
It was a massive, black greatsword.
Derek ran his fingers along the dark blade. Unlike a normal sword, it seemed to shimmer faintly, a dark blue aura pulsating along its edges.
The most unsettling part?
It was covered in some kind of ancient runes and letters—the kind no one in the group could recognize.
When he held it… he could feel something.
It felt alive.
"…I don't know," Derek finally admitted. "I don't know what it is."
The group blinked.
Bob frowned. "You pulled it from the Sword Graveyard and you don't even know what it is?"
Derek exhaled. "It was just a broken sword."
Jim scoffed. "Well, it's definitely not broken anymore."
Bam tapped his chin. "Maybe it's cursed?"
Marcus's eyes lit up. "Or maybe it's a legendary weapon!"
Bob gasped. "Oh! Oh! What if it's a sword that contains the soul of a fallen hero?!"
Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, or maybe it's just a sword."
The group fell into silence, all staring at the mysterious blade.
Derek tightened his grip on it.
It had chosen him.
Why?
And why did it feel like this was only the beginning?
He didn't know.
But he intended to find out.
With the mission done, the group prepared to head home.
Which would have been easy.
Except…
"I CAN WALK!" Jim roared.
"Shut up," Bob grunted, adjusting Jim's position over his shoulder.
Jim flailed. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU LUG! I'M NOT A SACK OF POTATOES!"
"You're injured," Derek said, walking ahead.
Marcus snickered. "Besides, you're lighter than I expected, Jim."
Bob nodded. "Yeah, you barely weigh anything. Maybe you should eat more."
Jim twitched. "Oh, you wanna talk weight, Bob?! You eat like a COW!"
"Cows are healthy," Bob said seriously.
Jim screamed internally.
And so, with Derek holding a legendary sword (probably), the group laughing, and Jim being forcibly carried, they began their journey back home.