Lucy had no choice but to join Kayden on this journey. Even with a plane, finding The Nightshade was no simple task.
The Nightshade’s layout was peculiar-completely invisible from the air.
“Dr. Scott, are you truly ready to destroy The Nightshade?” Lucy asked for the third time.
Kayden replied firmly, without hesitation, “Yes, I’m ready! Just take me there. Once we arrive, you won’t need to worry about a thing!”
“How many men and weapons did you bring?” Lucy asked cautiously, fearing she might offend him. She quickly added, “The Nightshade has thousands, maybe tens of thousands of disciples. They’re all trained fighters. If you’re not prepared, I fear…”
Kayden raised his hand, cutting her off. Shaking his head, he said, “I didn’t bring anyone. It’s just me and a blade. Destroying The Nightshade doesn’t require me to send in troops or weapons. I alone am enough.”
Lucy frowned, staring at him intently. He was so serious, so resolute.
Could he really take down The Nightshade on his own?
At that moment, a helicopter approached, landing near them. A tall, dark-skinned man in a military uniform stepped out. As soon as he got off, he snapped to attention, saluted, and then dropped to one knee in front of Kayden. With both hands, he presented a blade wrapped in newspaper, his voice trembling with reverence.
“Commander, your blade!”
A blade meant for slaughter.
Kayden reached out, taking the blade. He tore off the newspaper wrapping, revealing its form-a rusted, broken blade. The blade was only half its original length, the other half seemingly snapped off.
To the untrained eye, it was nothing more than a discarded, useless weapon. Not sharp enough to chop wood, much less to kill. That’s exactly how Lucy saw it-a piece of junk, like something pulled from a trash heap.
But Kayden looked at the broken blade with pure joy, as if reuniting with a long-lost relative.
Lucy didn’t understand his reaction. Before she could ask, she was ushered onto the helicopter.
During the flight, Kayden held the blade, stroking it gently.
“Dr. Scott,” Lucy finally asked, “is this blade special to you?”
Kayden’s eyes stayed fixed on the blade as he replied, “It’s my old companion. Do you know what these rust stains are?”
Lucy shook her head, puzzled.
Kayden let out a cold laugh. “Blood. It’s the blood of my enemies! This blade has killed countless soldiers-hundreds of thousands, if not more. Years ago, it was this blade that beheaded the supreme commander of the Ten Nations Alliance.”
Hearing this, Lucy’s eyes widened. No wonder the blade was so rusted.
The soldier piloting the helicopter chimed in, “This broken blade once hung on the border wall, striking fear into hundreds of thousands of enemy troops. It caused them to throw down their weapons and flee. It hung there for three years-three whole years-without a single enemy daring to set foot on Seclela’s soil. This blade symbolizes the Commander’s unrivaled authority. It is a warning from Death itself!”
Lucy was astonished, her gaze fixed on Kayden with newfound admiration.
Before now, she had no idea who Kayden really was. To her, he was just a doctor-a healer capable of curing any illness.
The only person who truly knew Kayden’s identity was Memphis John. Kayden didn’t mind Lucy learning the truth, though. After all, Lucy was a Hermit, one of the few worthy of trust.
“So… how did your blade break?” Lucy asked, her curiosity piqued.
Kayden ran his fingers along the jagged edge of the broken blade. “It broke while killing someone. But after it broke, I realized it suited me even better this way.”
Lucy blinked, unsure if she fully understood. But she caught a glimpse of something hidden in Kayden’s eyes-something unspoken.
Perhaps there was more to the story of the broken blade, but it wasn’t her place to ask.
—
Deep in the mountains of Dragonsleep, two men and three women trudged weakly through the dense jungle.
They had been wandering for days, their supplies long gone. Their energy was nearly depleted, and their exhaustion showed in every step.
“I can’t go on!” one of the girls suddenly cried, dropping to the ground. Shaking her head, she muttered, “I can’t do it anymore. Let me die here. I’m done walking. Look at my shoes-they’re falling apart.”
She pulled off her shoes to reveal a hole worn through the sole.
A short-haired girl in a black tracksuit stepped closer, speaking to the girl sitting at the base of a tree. “Diana, we can’t stop now. Trust me, we’ll make it out of here.”
Diana shook her head. “No, Lacey! We’re not getting out. Can’t you see? We’re lost in this jungle. All our devices have failed. Everywhere we go, it’s just more trees-nothing else. We’re trapped in a maze, and something wants us to die here.”
Her words sent a chill through the group, shaking their fragile confidence. Lacey sat beside her, trying to reassure her. “Diana, don’t lose hope. We’ll get out of here. I promise.”
Diana sighed, her voice heavy with despair. “Lacey, I’ve read about Dragonsleep. There are stories about this place. Anyone who doesn’t make it out the same day they enter… never makes it out at all. Dragonsleep is haunted. Ghosts roam these woods, claiming lives. So many people have come here, only to die.”
Lacey Bennett-daughter of Israel Bennett, the renowned antiquities dealer.
A few days ago, Lacey had heard rumors of valuable artifacts in Dragonsleep, relics from the Stone Age. She had invited a few colleagues to join her on the treasure hunt. But instead of finding treasure, their equipment stopped working, leaving them lost in the dense, ancient forest.
Now, their supplies were gone, and hunger gnawed at them. None of them had the strength to go much further.
“We’ll make it out of here, Diana. Come on, get up. Let’s keep moving,” Lacey urged.
Diana shook her head again. “I’m completely drained, Lacey. I can’t go on. You all go ahead without me. I’ll stay here and accept my fate.”
She leaned against the tree, her breaths shallow and labored.
As despair settled over the group, a man’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Hey! Up ahead-there’s something! I think I see a building!”