Chapter 1: The Birth of a Legend (Not)

“Ah man, my hometown’s really gone...”

A year before the assault on the capital, I was by the river at the neighboring village where I’d taken refuge, staring blankly up at the sky.

The year was 3000 AD, and humanity was in a decent bit of trouble.

Horrible beasts known as aetherborn ran rampant, gobbling up humans day after day. They attacked my village, you know! Even “Li’l Crow” got munched on a bit!

Oh, by the way, the reason the world was like that? All because a thousand years earlier, scientists had stumbled upon this unknown energy. It could only be seen by people with powerful so-called psychic abilities, using cutting-edge microscopes, and no one knew where it came from. Due to its mysterious nature, scientists had given it the fantasy name “aether.”

Humanity was running low on fossil fuels, so everyone started researching aether. Within just a few years, they’d figured out how to substitute it for electricity, and even come up with a method of amplifying it. The whole thing was great news for the economy, and the world was abuzz. Everyone thought this would secure humanity’s future. With the problem of energy resolved, surely there would no longer be a need for war. Right?

Well, the festive mood didn’t last long.

One day, accidents happened throughout major aether amplification facilities all over the world. Workers were exposed to highly amplified, maximum-density aether, and immediately their bodies began to change.

In Japan, they became oni. In the United States, zombies. In Britain, vampires. People from each country turned into their own local versions of folkloric creatures and began to run rampant. They destroyed the amplification facilities, and the ultrahigh-density aether spread throughout the world. Living creatures morphed into fantastical monsters: cows became minotaurs, pigs became orcs, chickens became cockatrices, and so on.

That brought about the collapse of society. Ninety-seven percent of the population perished, either turning into monsters, which came to be known as aetherborn, or falling victim to their rampage.

In the thousand years since, the small fraction of humans who hadn’t turned despite exposure to aether took the likewise small number of domestic animals that had escaped transformation and hid in remote areas, barely scraping by.

Most science and technology were lost, and civilization basically fell back to the late Middle Ages. Still, humans developed aether-powered weapons, or “aethereal arms,” and fought back against the aetherborn. In recent years, countries had been founded in several regions, and people had endeavored to reestablish humanity’s dominance.

And yet...

“No matter what state the world’s in, bad people will always exist, huh?” I mused.

Sure, it had been aetherborn who’d attacked the villagers, but at their head had been a dark magus—a human wielding aethereal arms for evil. The magus, with his trained creatures, had raided my village, killing the majority of the inhabitants.

I’d gotten away somehow, and the neighboring village had taken me in. Three days later, in true “broken young man whose hometown was destroyed” fashion, I was doing absolutely nothing.

Except, you know, I wasn’t actually so broken that I couldn’t pick up the pieces.

“I don’t really care about my hometown that much. It’s not like I had parents or relatives. Or friends. Or a girlfriend, for that matter!”

I mean, I was broken, just for a different reason.

Guys my age only looked at me from a distance. Sure, I spoke to people sometimes, but it always felt like they were just talking to me to be nice (girls, especially).

“Honestly, though, it’s not like I should expect anything else. I’m bad at speaking to people, when I even speak at all, and I always look like someone just kicked my puppy.”

Older people called me “mature for my age,” but in reality, I was simply a nervous wreck.

The day of the attack, some guys had invited me (awkwardly) to hang out, but I’d told them I was busy and couldn’t come. See, with no parents, I’d turned to making a living by caring for the little ones in my neighborhood. So I’d had to work that day.

“No one wants to be friends with some brooding dude who never wants to do anything, anyway. Besides, black hair is unusual around here. People look at me funny, I just know it.”

Anyhow, besides the whole “not having relatives” thing, I’d figured something like that raid was bound to happen, so I wasn’t too distraught. Attacks on rural villages were commonplace in this day and age, and I’d always been the nervous sort.

So I was way more prepared than anyone else.

I’d done leg training so I could run away in case of emergency, and figured out a path through which I could escape unseen. That saved my ass, you know.

Well, mine and the kids’ and a bunch of my peers’.

“I wanted to escape alone, but...”

When the dark magus appeared, aetherborn in tow, in my heart I was screaming, Stay away from me! Because, you know, what with the attackers and all, I was right in the middle of having a bunch of screaming, crying kids clinging to every last bit of me. Their little hands gripped as tight as they could, and I wasn’t able to shake them off.

“I mean, what else could I do? I just made a mad dash for it.”

Everything went according to plan as we crossed the nearby woods. Running for dear life, we passed through trees, slid down a slope, rushed through a secret passage I’d sneakily dug, and led our pursuers to traps I’d set in advance.

And halfway through all of that, we ran into those guys I mentioned, who’d fled into that same forest.

For a second, I thought about using them as bait, but then I figured that letting them carry the kids would be a literal load off my shoulders. So, with them all in tow, I somehow made it out alive and well.

Okay, maybe not well well, since my rear end had a brief tête-à-tête with the fangs of an aetherborn. (I didn’t tell anyone about this part.) I got caked with mud while running, so nobody noticed the hole in my pants, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t hurt to hell and back.

“Well, then,” I reflected. “My butt’s still sore, but I think it’s about time I drop the whole ‘broken young man whose hometown was destroyed’ act. I should probably find some work tomorrow.” I groaned as I stood up and stretched.

I’ll be eighteen next year, I thought. Unlike everyone else, I hadn’t lost any relatives, so I’d just get shunned if I kept lazing around.

“Come to think of it, those survivors probably hate me now, huh? I mean, they found out I had an escape plan for myself all ironed out...”

I hope they don’t trash-talk me to these villagers, I thought to myself, ready to leave the riverside.

Then I saw it.

Stuck at the river’s edge was a cylindrical something. Curious, I stepped closer.

“Wait, what’s this? A sword?”

The something was a jet-black scabbard, a blade still sheathed within. It had an unusual shape, thin and narrow.

Oh, is this a—what was it?—“katana” or something? I think that’s what people in the far east used to call these swords way back in the day. I hear they’re super cool. And sharp. What was it Fukashi said? “They’re very valuable weapons, with blades so gorgeous they look like works of art. Also, we have, like, a hundred of them at home.”

Good ol’ Fukashi. He lived in my neighborhood and lied all the time. Also, he wasn’t among the guys I helped out, so he was probably dead.

“Now then, let’s see what it’s actually like, shall we?”

I promptly picked up the loot and placed my hand on the long scabbard. What would the blade really be like? If Fukashi (rest in peace) had lied about the whole “work of art” thing too, he was definitely going to hell.

Granted, this thing was lying around in a river, so it’s probably rusty.

“Welp, let’s just unsheathe it and give it a—”

The Vantablack blade appeared, and a jolt of pain coursed through my very soul!

I groaned. It felt as though the sword had just stabbed right through me! I was in such agony I could barely stand. Surely I would collapse right then and there from the pain!

Except I didn’t.

“I-I can’t move my body!” I yelled.

My brain was screaming, “Get on your knees!” but my legs were like, “Nah.” Instead, I stood, back straight as a ruler. My muscles all tensed, and even the way my feet were planted on the ground shifted. Suddenly, I was standing tall, my stance not unlike an elite warrior’s.

“My body’s... Something’s not... Wait, what?! Whoa!”

Before I could finish my sentence, my legs rudely interrupted me by taking off running at full speed, my muscles moving of their own accord.

“Wh-What the heeell?!” I screamed, dashing toward the village faster than I’d ever run in my life. “H-H-How is this happeniiing?!”

Jet-black sword in hand, I was about to stir things up big-time.