"What are you doing here at this hour?"
The voice was soft and unhurried.
Vesper turned his head, blinking once as he saw the figure approaching.
His sister, Isolde, crossed the lawn with grace. Her silver hair, longer than his, and effortlessly elegant, moved like silk. She wore a deep-blue robe tied loosely at the waist. Her icy blue eyes reflected the moonlight.
With her well-shaped nose and long eyelashes, she was breathtaking.
"You're still awake?" Vesper asked.
She stopped a few steps away, tilting her head. "Could say the same thing about you."
He offered a slight shrug and turned his gaze back toward the garden. "I couldn't sleep."
She walked the remaining distance, then lowered herself to the grass. She sat cross-legged, and leaned back slightly against the thick bark.
"I haven't seen you here in a while, why did you come here now?" she asked, her expression neutral.
"I guess I just needed some air tonight."
She hummed quietly in respons. Then said. "You're clearly nervous, aren't you?"
Vesper exhaled slowly. "You already know what's on my mind."
"Of course I know," she said, smirking. "Your face practically screams."
He let out a low laugh. "Or it's just you that know me best."
"Tomorrow's a big day," she said. "Your first step into real swordsmanship. You should be nervous."
Vesper leaned back. He looked over at her. "How did you know what to choose?"
Isolde turned her head, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were as calm as ever.
"I didn't," she said. "Not right away."
Vesper blinked. "Really? But you looked like you knew from the moment you stepped into the hall."
She smiled at that, almost amused. "I knew what I didn't want. That way, I was able to find what I wanted sooner. I even chose something that didn't suit me completely."
He was quiet for a moment, considering that.
"I was afraid of making the wrong choice," she went on. "Of choosing something too difficult, or something people would laugh at. But then I thought… if I chose what felt safe, I'd never learn anything real."
Vesper frowned slightly. "And you weren't worried it might not work out?"
"Oh, I was terrified," she said plainly. "But I figured if I had to struggle, I'd rather do it for something that mattered to me. Something I could make mine."
The wind stirred again, brushing through the crimson leaves above them.
"I've read Sword Arts of many people," Vesper said. "But none of them suited me, or better to say I didn't like them at all."
"None of it feels perfect, right?" she guessed.
He nodded. "Everything feels like it belongs to someone else."
"That's because it does," she said. "Those Sword Arts don't belong to you when you choose them. They're the starting line."
He looked at his hands in his lap. "I thought I'd feel something when I saw the forms. Something like a pull or something like that."
Isolde's tone softened. "You're waiting for certainty. That's not how this works, Vesper."
He didn't respond right away.
"You don't pick a Sword Art because you know it's yours," she continued. "You pick it so you can make it yours. You fight with it, fail with it, and somewhere along the way, it stops being borrowed."
"You always made it look so easy," he clicked his tongue.
She raised an eyebrow. "Not at all. I'm just showing you the path. For some people it's easy and for others difficult. As for me, it was…difficult."
"Still... you chose the best thing."
"Your problem is that you want everything to be perfect." She sighed. "But sometimes, you just have to move forward without overthinking. You will get that, don't worry."
She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes briefly. Then said with a soft smile. "I know how much swordsmanship means to you. Choosing the wrong path now would shape your foundation, and there's no going back from that. But if it's you, I believe you'll make the right choice. As always."
She turned her head slightly. "I'm not saying you'll choose perfectly tomorrow. But I trust you'll pick something that you'll be satisfied with."
He didn't say anything right away. Just breathed out, slow and quiet.
"Thanks," he said at last.
Isolde cracked one eye open. "For the wisdom?"
Vesper's eyes twitched. "Don't talk about something you don't have."
"Tch…ungrateful bastard."
They sat there a little longer.
Eventually, Isolde stood, brushing the grass from her robe. "Get some sleep. You've got a long day ahead."
Vesper stood with her. "Yeah. I will."
She started to walk back, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. "One more thing."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Don't try to pick something overpowered or invincible," she said. "That doesn't exist. We are the one who make them invincible. So choose something that matches your taste and style."
Then she walked away, her steps light against the stone path.
Vesper stood alone beneath the crimson tree for a few moments longer.
He still didn't have the answer.
Yes. I have to do that. There are a lot of Sword Arts in the vault, it's impossible to not find something that matches me. I was worried for no reason.
***
After an hour, Vesper returned to his own room.
"Haah… I really need to sleep. I can't hold out any longer."
He collapsed onto the bed, the warmth of sunlight washing over him. Making him relaxed.
Wait—sunlight?
His eyes shot open. He looked out of the window. The golden sun, its huge form rising above the distant mountains, bathed the sky in radiant light.
"Shit! I'm doomed."
Panic surged through him.
"I should've been at the Argent Vault by now… Father said I had to be there before dawn! That fucking moon was there just five minutes ago. When did they switch?"
Changing his clothes into a more formal one, he stepped out of the room.
The Argent Vault was deep beneath the Grand Duke's mansion. It is one of the most forbidden and revered places in the entire von Stein Grand Duchy, accessible solely by the patriarch himself.
The vault is divided into three vast halls, each serving a purpose.
Vaelcrest Hall: A place filled with ancient codices, Sword Arts, and Principle Scrolls.
Cloud Hall: A secured armoury housing legendary weapons and essential war materials.
Onyx Hall: A place full of arcane mystery and rare artifacts whose origins are lost to time.
Together, these halls form the heart of the Grand Duke's legacy.
I've already got my weapon from the Cloud Hall after I graduated from university. And I'm not really fond of artifacts; so, the only option is Vaelcrest Hall in which I must choose my first Sword Art. Vesper mused as he made his way toward the Argent Vault.
After minutes, he stopped at a towering stone wall, etched with ancient runes that shimmered faintly. This was the final step, an illusionary barrier that only recognized the blood of the Von Stein patriarch.
Vesper exhaled slowly, taking out a small vial from his pocket, he poured a couple of drops of crimson blood on his hand. Then, he reached out and put his bloody hand on the wall.
A deep rumble echoed through the corridor as the wall silently parted, revealing a grand stairway going downward into darkness.
He descended without hesitation.
The air grew colder with each step. At the base, the path opened into a vast chamber. It was the Argent Vault.
Despite its name, the vault wasn't made of silver. Instead, its walls were carved from black stone veined with glowing argent patterns. Three massive double doors stood ahead, each engraved with an emblem.
A sword—Vaelcrest Hall
A Clouded Blade—Cloud Hall
An obsidian eye—Onyx Hall
Good, I'm here before him. Now I just need to wai—
"You're late." A stern voice cut through his thoughts.
Vesper flinched, a subtle shiver running down his spine as he turned toward the source.
A tall man stood at the end of the hall. He had long, silver hair and piercing icy-blue eyes. Despite his age, not a single wrinkle was visible on his face. In some angles, he bore a striking resemblance to Isolde.
An overwhelming aura of authority and power radiated from him.
He was none other than Quinn von Stein.
One of the empire's pillars.
One of its two Grand Dukes.
And the man is known throughout the continent as The Soul Sword.
Vesper instantly bowed. "I apologize, father. I lost track of time."
Quinn von Stein said nothing at first. His sharp gaze lingered on Vesper like it could cut through him. The silence dragged on until he finally turned away.
"You said this last time too," he said coldly, his voice echoing. "But you're here now. Come."
Vesper exhaled quietly and straightened, following in his father's footsteps as they walked toward the grand door with a sword emblem etched on it.
Quinn placed his right hand against the door. A soft, otherworldly glow radiated from his palm, the unmistakable light of Primal Energy. The glow spread across the surface of the door, veins of bright energy branching outward until it enveloped the entire structure.
Moments later, a click echoed through the corridor, and the massive door slowly began to open.
"Go and choose whatever you want, but be quick. There's a limit to how long this door can remain open" Quinn said indifferently.
Nodding, Vesper stepped inside.
As soon as he stepped inside, Vesper's eyes widened in awe.
Before him stood a grand, two-story chamber with an ethereal glow. Towering bookshelves lined the ivory walls, each filled with ancient tomes and scrolls. Majestic pillars rose toward the high ceiling. Two elegant, otherworldly staircases went upward to the second floor. The marble floor beneath his feet gleamed, its polished surface reflecting the soft light.
Damn… this is even more majestic than the Cloud Hall I visited before.
How the hell am I supposed to find what I need? Read all of these?
He glanced back, only to find the grand door had vanished as if it had never existed. Just like the Cloud Hall, it felt as though he'd been transported to an entirely different dimension.
With a quiet breath, Vesper turned forward and began to explore the hall.
This is going to be time-consuming…