Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel

It was here that he saw it. 

At the peak of the mountain, where the clouds brushed the heavens and the sun cast its golden rays upon the world below, Ralph discovered a sight that took his breath away. 

There, embedded in a monolith of stone, stood a magnificent sword of unparalleled beauty and grandeur. Its hilt, adorned with intricate engravings depicting ancient tales, gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the brilliance of a thousand suns. The blade, razor-sharp and untarnished, shimmered with an ethereal glow, as if it were forged from stardust and moonbeams.

The sword seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if it possessed a consciousness that reached out to Ralph, calling to him in a language only he could understand. Its presence was regal, and its elegance unmatched, as though it were a relic from a time long forgotten, waiting for the touch of a worthy soul.

Ralph approached, However, a figure suddenly appeared before the sword. one look at this person and the rags they wore and it was easy to tell that this was the same beggar that had told him to climb up this mountain. 

"So you finally came!" The beggar, with his face still hidden under his hoody spoke with a deep tone.

 " I am a remnant soul of the Secret Ancient expert in charge of protecting this sword. The one that came before you swore to use this blade to bring justice to evil doers and save the Highlander tribes. He was supposed to fight against the invaders and bring peace to the land. It is for this purpose that this sword exist. But he has been swayed with the material things of the world and has forgotten his task. If you want this sword of Dragons, you must first use it to kill him and take the power within that he now grasps. The moment you kill him, you will instantly enter the Bronze rank.

However, if you fail, another shall come for your life!"

Ralph immediately went down on his knees with his head bowed to the ground, "Oh Secret ancient expert, I Ralph, son of the Yellow Aura Tribe vow to help the Secret Ancient expert to deal revenge on the blasphemous one that took the Secret Ancient Experts's grace for granted. Please! Allow this one to take your sword and deliver justice to both your enemies and the enemies of the land."

The Beggar nodded, "I see deep within your heart. It is pure and filled with good. Take the sword and bring me justice."

Ralph nodded as he excitedly stood to his feet.

Ralph approached the sword with a mix of awe and trepidation, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him. As he reached out to touch the hilt, a surge of energy coursed through his veins, and he felt an inexplicable connection to the weapon. It was as if the sword recognized him, acknowledging him as its rightful bearer.

Under the radiant sun, the sword's surface glowed with an iridescent sheen, casting a dazzling display of colors that danced like rainbows in the morning mist. Its elegance was unmatched, the craftsmanship beyond compare. Each curve and edge seemed to tell a story of ancient battles and heroic feats, whispering secrets of a time when legends walked the earth.

 Ralph, mesmerized by its beauty and drawn in by its silent call, knew that he was destined for greatness. With a steady hand and a heart full of determination, he gripped the hilt of the sword, feeling the surge of power that coursed through him, as if he had become one with the weapon.

In that moment, as the sword reflected the sunlight in a radiant display of colors, Ralph knew that his journey had only just begun. With the sword in his hand, he felt invincible, ready to face Igbi, the Vandorain invaders and whatever challenges lay ahead.

The Beggar suddenly waved his hands a core beast appeared. It was a Blue cored mountain lion. These creatures had already scarred Ralph.

The moment Ralph saw it, he was frightened. However, he could suddenly feel energy surge through his body from the sword.

 Ralph found himself face to face with a creature of extraordinary power – the Blue Cored Mountain Lion. Its eyes, a fierce shade of cobalt, glared at Ralph with predatory intensity. Fear gripped Ralph's heart like icy tendrils, threatening to paralyze him, but the sword in his hands pulsed with a reassuring warmth, reminding him of his newfound purpose.

As the lion's muscles coiled, preparing for a lethal pounce, Ralph's body tensed with anticipation. The fear within him began to stir, its hue transforming from a timid yellow to a vibrant, radiant shade. The yellow aura of fear was his strength, a power born from feeding on fright.

 It started as a flicker, a tiny ember within him, but with each heartbeat, it roared to life, enveloping him in a protective cocoon.

The clash between man and beast commenced, the impact of their meeting reverberating through the mountains like a symphony of thunder. 

Ralph's every movement was guided by the sword's ancient wisdom, the blade an extension of his very soul. With a deft maneuver, he dodged the lion's initial strike, feeling the rush of wind as sharp claws sliced through the air where he had stood.

In response, Ralph lunged forward, his sword meeting the lion's claws in a clash of metal and fur. The collision sent shockwaves rippling across the mountainside, dislodging loose rocks that tumbled down the slope. The very earth seemed to tremble beneath their combat, as if the mountain itself recognized the significance of this battle.

The Blue Cored Mountain Lion, a creature of raw power and primal instincts, roared in fury, its eyes narrowing into slits as it lunged again. Ralph, fueled by his yellow aura, parried the assault with a skill that seemed otherworldly. 

The dance between them continued, each movement calculated, each strike purposeful.

With every clash, the yellow aura surrounding Ralph intensified, glowing brightly like a beacon against the dark backdrop of the mountain. It was a manifestation of his fear, transformed into a potent force, a testament to his courage and determination. The lion, sensing Ralph's newfound strength, fought back with renewed vigor, its roars echoing through the peaks, shaking the very core of the mountain.

The battle raged on, the combatants locked in a fierce struggle that seemed to transcend time. 

Ralph's yellow aura flared with each strike, illuminating the battlefield with its radiant glow. The clash of sword against claw, the roar of the lion, and the determined breaths of the young warrior filled the air, creating a cacophony of sound that resonated across the mountains.

In the midst of their battle, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of crimson and gold, Ralph's determination wavered not. With a final, decisive blow, he struck the lion, the sword finding its mark. The beast let out a thunderous roar that echoed through the valleys, a sound that was simultaneously a lament and a testament to its opponent's strength.

The Blue Cored Mountain Lion collapsed, its body crumpling onto the rocky ground, defeated yet dignified. Ralph, panting heavily, stood over his fallen foe, his yellow aura fading gradually as the battle came to an end. 

The mountain, witness to their epic clash, seemed to sigh in relief, the echoes of their struggle fading into the evening breeze.

With the lion defeated and the night descending upon the mountain, Ralph felt a profound sense of accomplishment. The sword, now stained with the blood of his adversary, gleamed in the fading light, a symbol of his triumph over fear and adversity.

"Good! Good!! You are worthy! Now you see for yourself, the sword truly has incredible power. Use it to bring justice." the Beggar waved his hands as he disappeared. 

Ralph bowed and then he turned and left. He felt like his purpose in life had been restored and now, he could finally take his revenge. 

After all, this was the sword that Igbi his power without it, he was sure to win, take back his village, and also take back his woman. he could already feel the worship at his feet by all of them.

As Ralph descended the mountain, his steps were steady, his heart filled with newfound confidence. The yellow aura, once a manifestation of his fear, now resonated with resilience and bravery. 

The sword at his side, seemed to hum with approval, recognizing his indomitable spirit.

Ralph did not know that the moment he went far enough, the figure of the beggar that had disappeared reappeared again, bursting into laughter so deep that he rolled on the ground.

The Beggar waved his hand and the corpse of the Blue mountain lion in the distance disappeared, turning into a wooden doll. 

The Beggar, after having his fill of laughter, stood to his feet, "truly, human beings will believe not the truth but what they want to believe, or rather, what I can make them believe!"