Forgaze's dim morning light seeped into the modest home that now belonged to the Arclight Clan. The air was thick with silence, the kind that settles when something big is coming. Arel and Mina were deep in focused attempts to push their auras to Base Level, sweat beading on their young brows. Eiran stood nearby, observing quietly.
As the children caught their breath, Reve wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked, "Old man, what's our next move?"
Eiran nodded, folding his arms. "You broke through to Ironpulse. But to advance now, you need an Aura Art. The Kaizan Clan might offer some low-grade scraps to their vessel clans… but those won't get you to the peak."
Reve frowned. "Then what do we do?"
"We build something greater. And we recruit. To grow as a true clan, we can't stay a four-member family. We need others with potential—disciples we can train ourselves," Eiran said, a faint glint of ambition in his eyes.
As they discussed, Reve suddenly froze. A faint tremor passed through his fingers, and the aura sword at his side pulsed faintly.
A strange voice echoed within his mind.
_"Reve Arclight… you have chosen the path of ascension. It is time you learned my name."
"I am APEX."_
Reve's breath hitched. The room around him blurred as his body sank into deep meditation, the world outside fading.
Arel blinked. "Big bro?"
Mina looked up from her own practice, confused. "Why's he glowing?"
Eiran's eyes narrowed. "No... he's communing with the sword."
---
Inside his consciousness, Reve stood before a towering sword engulfed in an ethereal glow. The blade pulsed with primal energy, coalescing into a humanoid silhouette.
The voice returned, deep and ancient.
"A sword that waits for the worthy. An art that reflects one's soul. You shall forge your path—not by imitating others, but by becoming the embodiment of what it means to ascend. I am Apex—the sword born for the summit. And with me, you shall build the Apex Art."
Flashes of sword forms, swirling aura patterns, and mystical techniques flooded Reve's mind. He gritted his teeth as pain surged through him—a storm of power rewriting the very foundation of his cultivation.
When Reve opened his eyes again, sweat poured from his face, and his aura shimmered with a new brilliance.
In his hand glowed a scroll—not of ink, but of light.
Eiran blinked. "Is that…?"
Reve nodded slowly, voice low but proud. "Apex Art. It came from the sword itself."
A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, Eiran chuckled softly. "Heh… now this… this is just the beginning."
The myth of Apex ha
d awakened. And so too, had Reve's legend begun.