Cherreads

WHEN THE BLADE LEARNS TO SING

AELROS_ZERO
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
--
NOT RATINGS
414
Views
Synopsis
In a land where kingdoms march to the rhythm of crowns, Where blades are silent, and hearts beat in chains, One boy hums to himself beneath a broken sky— Unaware that his song will one day shatter empires. Ren is born nameless, crestless, and forgotten. But he listens. To the wind. To the fire. To the whisper of metal, old and aching for memory. For in this world, blades once sang—not with words, but with will. And Crowns… Crowns do not rule with justice, but with rhythm. A rhythm etched into bone, bound in sorrow, And worn by kings who have traded their souls for command. But Ren does not march. He does not shout. He moves. He dances. And in his steps, the song begins anew. Through war, betrayal, love, and legacy, Ren must face the silence imposed by power, And awaken a forgotten truth: > That blades do not belong to kings. They belong to those who listen. So come— Step softly. Listen closely. And when the steel begins to hum... You’ll know the story has begun. ---
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - AUTHOR'S NOTE

---

---

📜 Author's Note

Dear reader,

Welcome to a world where swords hum with memory, and crowns do not merely rule—they command rhythm.

This is not a tale of prophesied heroes or silver-spoon warriors.

This is the story of a forgotten boy. A quiet blade.

And a song no one remembered… until it was heard again in war.

In this land, every kingdom is bound by a Crown—not just a symbol, but a forged artifact of dominion, born from sorrow and fire. These Crowns grant rulers the power to warp rhythm itself. They give soldiers unnatural strength, discipline, and fury—but at a terrible cost.

But blades have their rhythm too.

And one boy, born nameless, dances to that forgotten tune.

His name is Ren.

He does not march.

He does not command.

He listens.

And because of that, the blade sings again.

If you stay—

If you listen—

You just might hear it, too.

Let the song begin…

---

✨ Prologue: The Quiet Before the Choir

> Penned by a nameless historian beneath a ruined throne, at the End of All Songs.

---

They say before the kingdoms, before the banners and bloodlines and wars carved into maps, there was only metal—and breath.

And when metal met breath,

A song was born.

Not sung by lips,

Not played by hand,

But whispered through sorrow,

Through silence,

Through flame.

That was how the first blades were made.

Then came the first crowns.

And with them, the rhythm of conquest.

For what is a kingdom,

If not a rhythm made law?

What is a king,

If not the one who commands the choir?

Each Crown was forged from a different silence.

A forgotten name. A dead god's heartbeat. A mourning mother's scream buried in stone.

They were made not to rule—but to bind chaos into order.

But something was lost.

Something ancient.

The true rhythm.

You see—when a Crown commands the rhythm,

The blade forgets how to sing.

And so we forgot.

We marched.

We saluted.

We slaughtered.

But no one danced.

No one hummed.

Until him.

---

In a nameless mountain village,

A boy was born.

No crest.

No command.

No rhythm pressed upon him.

Only a strange hum on his lips

And a hunger for the echo of steel.

He did not know what the blade remembered.

He did not know what the Crown would demand.

But one day, when the war drums thundered louder than the sky,

The boy moved.

Not in step.

Not in duty.

He moved in rhythm.

And for the first time in an age—

The blade answered.

It did not roar.

It did not scream.

It sang.

---

The blade does not kneel for kings.

The rhythm does not serve crowns.

It waits…

For a soul wild enough to listen.

For a dancer brave enough to move.

And that dancer's name…

was Ren.

---