Fate: The Sun of Akasha

Rael ignored the murmurs of the survivors. His mind was solely focused on the group of bandits in front of him. Every step he took seemed to resonate on the ground, as if the earth itself recognized the weight of his determination. Then, without any warning, he simply disappeared.

"What?!" one of the bandits shouted, his eyes wide as he frantically searched around.

"Where is he?" another asked, desperation evident in his voice. The men spun in circles, trying to locate the young man with golden eyes who seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Before anyone could react, a sharp sound cut through the air.

Slash!

One of the bandits froze for a brief moment before his body fell, sliced in half. Blood gushed out, painting the ground red as the other bandits retreated, terrified. Behind the split body, Rael stood, his sword resting on his shoulder. The bluish, icy blade now glistened with the blood of his enemies, a macabre contrast that only accentuated his presence.

John's eyes widened as he saw what had happened. He didn't think twice and charged at Rael, swinging his sword in a desperate attack.

Rael stared at him without changing his expression. As John approached, Rael stamped his foot firmly on the ground.

Boom!

The impact of the stomp created a powerful gust of wind that spread like an explosion. The force scattered the group of bandits, throwing some away while others were knocked to the ground. The ground beneath Rael's feet cracked, creating small fissures that seemed to reflect the ferocity contained in that single movement.

John was thrown backward, his sword slipping from his hands and embedding itself in the ground a few meters away. He struggled to rise, coughing and gasping for air, as he looked at Rael with a mixture of fear and fury.

The other bandits were now scattered, confused and terrified, while Rael remained firm at the center of it all, the light of his sword shining like a beacon of condemnation.

"Is that all you have?" Rael asked, his voice cold and relentless, as his golden eyes surveyed the group with disdain.

Zoom!

Rael vanished once again, reappearing instantly in front of one of the bandits. The man barely had time to react before Rael's large crystalline sword pierced through his body, impaling him from side to side. The scream of pain was brief, cut short by the sound of the lifeless body hitting the ground.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!" the other bandits screamed in pure terror. The confidence they had once carried like a banner had completely vanished, dissolving like smoke in the wind. Those closest to him tried to flee, stumbling over one another in their desperate haste.

Rael raised his sword and, with a single fluid movement, created a wave of magical energy. The icy blade shone brightly, and the energy released cut down all those to his right in an instant. Blood stained the ground, and the bodies fell as if they were mere leaves being swept away by a storm.

"Nothing but scum, weaklings," Rael declared, his gaze filled with utter disdain. His golden eyes shone brightly, piercing through the memories of the few bandits still conscious. "Only trash here. Well, I'll get rid of each one."

He swung his sword in a precise motion, focusing his magical energy. The air around him seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the force he was gathering. In an instant, Rael swung the sword, releasing all the energy in a devastating arc. The cut of celestial blue energy took the form of a glowing crescent, moving with speed and precision. When the energy hit the remaining bandits, there was no time for screams. They were annihilated instantly, leaving only silence behind.

Rael lowered the sword, resting it on his shoulder as he looked around. The bandits' bodies now lay scattered, and the scent of blood blended further with the smoke of destruction.

"With this, I must have eliminated all the trash," he murmured, his voice cold and impassive, as if the carnage he had just carried out was merely a trivial task. The glow of his sword began to fade slowly, reflecting the light of the flames around him.

The dark-haired man raised the sword again, but this time not for an attack. With a firm and fluid gesture, he made the Great Sword of Moonlight disappear, storing it in his extradimensional space through the Silver Key. As soon as the blade vanished, Rael extended his hand, fingers open toward the sky.

The magical energy began to flow from its magical circuits, radiating from its body in soft yet intense waves. The air around it shimmered with the released power, and the survivors of the village watched, fascinated and incredulous, as something impossible began to unfold before their eyes.

The First Magic manifested its form. The flames consuming the remains of the village began to dwindle, as if an invisible wind were extinguishing them. The black smoke rising to the sky began to descend, moving against gravity, returning to the ground as if time itself were being reversed.

The wreckage of the houses, scattered on the ground, began to move. Broken wood and shattered stones floated through the air, returning to their original positions. Within seconds, the ruined structures rose again, whole and flawless. Ashes scattered across the ground reformed, taking shape as furniture, roofs, and even simple ornaments that decorated the houses.

It was as if the destruction had never happened. The village was completely restored, as if it had been pulled from a moment before the attack.

Rael watched the phenomenon in silence, feeling the magnitude of the First Magic's power in his hands. He not only saw, but felt the fabric of reality shape itself to his command. When everything was finished, he lowered his hand, allowing the magical energy to subside.

"Is this the First Magic? Interesting," he thought, reflecting on the implications of this power. It was not just the ability to reverse damage; it was the manipulation of the fundamental flow of existence.

He turned to the villagers, who were now standing still, in complete silence. Their faces showed a mix of awe, admiration, and reverence. Some knelt, others simply looked at Rael as though he were something more than human.

"It's done," he said simply, his voice serene but heavy with authority. "You are safe now."

Rael began walking toward the village exit, his steps firm and sure. Necros, ever loyal, approached and aligned himself at his side, matching his master's pace. The young man placed his hand on the horse's saddle, ready to mount, when a voice cut through the silence that had settled.

"Wait!"

Rael stopped and turned slowly, his golden eyes resting on an elderly man standing out from the crowd. The man, of advanced age, had gray hair that revealed his many years and a stooped posture, but his eyes gleamed with determination.

"Please, noble knight, allow us to thank you with a feast," the man requested, his voice filled with sincerity and respect.

Rael observed the man for a moment, measuring his words. He was not accustomed to such interactions. After a brief pause, he replied:

"You don't need to, it's alright, sir." He spoke gently before mounting Necros' saddle, preparing to leave.

"Please, accept at least a gift!" insisted the old man, his voice almost pleading.

Rael sighed slightly, realizing that refusing any further might seem rude. "Alright," he said, dismounting the horse and waiting to see what would be offered.

Soon after, the villagers brought a piece of armor that appeared to be carefully preserved. The gift was an impressive piece, an armor that exuded a balance between functionality and aesthetics.

The chestplate was made of reinforced leather, with metal plates strategically positioned to offer maximum protection without compromising mobility. Metal fastenings adorned the piece, giving it a robust and modern look. Adjustable belts and straps ran across the torso, allowing the armor to be customized to the user's body and even carry small accessories.

The metal shoulder guards had an elegant and practical design, providing protection without limiting shoulder movement. The arms were covered by a combination of durable leather and metal plates, adjusted with carefully placed straps.

The lower part followed the same design, with pants made of reinforced leather, designed for durability and flexibility. Buckles and utility pockets were strategically placed, showing that the armor also had a practical side. The boots were solid, made to withstand long walks and tough terrain, while allowing for silent movement in combat.

Finally, there was a long black cape attached to the armor, gently fluttering in the wind. Its fabric was heavy enough to protect against the elements but light enough not to hinder movement.

[Insert the Image here]

(Author: He does not wear the mask from the image currently.)

Rael ran his fingers over the surface of the armor, assessing its quality with an experienced eye. He nodded slightly in approval before looking back at the lord.

"It's a generous gift," he said, his voice now softer. "Thank you."

The villagers smiled, relieved by his acceptance. Without another word, Rael donned the armor and made it his property in his extradimensional space using the Silver Key. Then, he mounted Necros again, the black cloak of the horse billowing in the wind.

He cast one last look at the village, now restored and filled with gratitude.

"Take care," was all he said before pulling on Necros's reins, which neighed and began to trot toward the horizon, carrying Rael to his next destination.

...

The night was calm, but filled with a peculiar silence, interrupted only by the occasional crackling of the wood in the fire Rael had lit. He was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, with the orange glow of the flames dancing in his golden eyes. The warmth of the fire pushed away the chill of the night, but it was not enough to disperse the weight of the thoughts occupying his mind.

Behind him, Necros rested, lying on the soft grass, his imposing body relaxed in a rare moment of tranquility. The black horse softly snored, each deep breath signaling a well-deserved rest after the intense day of battles and travels.

Rael leaned slightly forward, extending his hands toward the fire, more out of habit than necessity. The warmth of the fire wasn't essential for someone with his ability to manipulate magic, but there was something comforting about the ritual. He looked at the flames, allowing himself a moment of introspection.

The moonlight above was partially obscured by passing clouds, casting dancing shadows over the makeshift camp. The stars dotted the sky, their distant lights reflecting the vast unknown that Rael knew he would still have to face.

He withdrew from his extradimensional space the dagger he had created earlier, still nameless. Holding it in his hand, he slowly spun it, watching how the blade reflected the firelight. The energy imbued in the weapon seemed to vibrate in his hand, as if the "Extinction" were alive, waiting to be unleashed.

"What a complicated world," he murmured to himself, his thoughts wandering between the recent battles, the lives saved, and the deaths he had caused.

"Parameters"

[Name: Rael Sunford]

[Progression: 1.02%]

[Parameters]

Strength: C+++

Endurance: C++

Agility: B

Mana: EX

Luck: EX

[Abilities]

Mystic Eyes of the Golden Sun: A+++

Third Magic - Heaven's Feel: EX

Swordsman: B

Magic: EX

First Magic - True Denial of Nothingness: EX

Discernment of History: EX

[Noble Phantasms]

Great Sword of the Light of the Moon (Anti-Unit): B

Nameless Dagger (Anti-World): EX

Rael observed the Parameters panel projected before him, an ethereal glow surrounding the information that only he could see. His golden eyes scanned each line, analyzing the numbers and rankings with calculated attention.

"Progression: 1.02%..." he murmured to himself. It was still early, and the long road ahead would be filled with challenges. The growth potential was vast, but the progress rate showed that he was heading in the right direction.

The parameters immediately caught his attention.

"My strength and agility have increased noticeably... but my endurance, not so much," he reflected quietly, his tone calm yet filled with curiosity. "Mana and luck continue to be my greatest advantages, something I must explore further."

He knew that the EX rankings placed him in an outlier category, far beyond what most could even dream of reaching. His magical affinity and connection with the primordial forces made him exceptional, but Rael understood that being exceptional also came with responsibilities and risks.

The dagger, now officially cataloged as a Noble Ghost, was the perfect reflection of his Origin, Extinction. He had already expected the object to become something unique and incredibly powerful.

"Anti-World... indeed, an artifact of this level is rare even among the Noble Ghosts," he commented, lightly spinning his hand as if feeling the imaginary weight of the blade. The ability to extinguish anything that the blade touched was a weapon of apocalyptic proportions. Fortunately, he had taken the precaution of binding its activation exclusively to himself. Without this condition, the dagger would be just an ordinary weapon, a necessary safeguard against misuse.

He dismissed the projection with a subtle movement of his hand, and the ethereal screen vanished into a cloud of dissipating energy. Necros continued to sleep peacefully beside him, and the flames of the campfire still danced to the rhythm of the night wind.

Rael held the dagger in his hand for a brief moment, feeling its weight and the energy emanating from it. The blade, although inactive, still seemed to pulse faintly with the essence of its Origin, Extinction, as if silently waiting for the next time it would be called to the battlefield.

With a fluid gesture, he transferred it to the extradimensional space of the Silver Key, where it would remain safe until needed again. The dagger disappeared in an ethereal gleam, and Rael sighed softly, feeling the environment around him return to the usual silence of the night.

He slowly rose and extinguished the campfire with a motion of his hand, using a small amount of magic to dissipate the flames and prevent any embers from remaining. The warmth that had once filled the air was replaced by the coolness of the night, but Rael was not bothered.

He lay down next to where Necros was resting. The black horse opened one of his eyes for a moment, but soon went back to sleep, comfortable with the presence of his master.

Rael crossed his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax.