HELLO EVERYONE! I am I Can Spell! and I am now the author of this story. A LONG time before I made this account I was reading stories on Royal Road. During this time the very first story I ever got into was "The Shattered Sword" by Blovix. I loved this story but, like nearly every story on Royal Road (and inevitably probably this one), the author's release schedule was erratic and eventually stopped altogether.
My plan is to edit the previous chapters minorly and then take the story in the direction Blovix told me he wanted to since I think its pretty damn good. To be honest, I didn't expect him to have thought the story out all the way to the end since he stopped the story.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy "The Shattered Sword" as much as I did.
Here is where Blovix proves I'm not lying.
https://royalroadl.com/fiction/chapter/126674
NOW ON WITH THE CHAPTER!
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The first chapter holds much more imagery and dark/tragic undertones than the rest of the story, at least for now. It becomes more lighthearted as Nathan tries to forget and not obsess. Enjoy.
Nathan Rose laid on the cold, rough, damp dirt. He struggled to stay conscious as he looked up at the trees rising towards the sky as if they were reaching out to touch it, but it was just too far. Exhausted and in pain, he rolled his head to the right and he saw was his jet black sword, his soul, broken.
Nathan gripped the hilt of the sword which once displayed a blade taller than himself, but now only held a shard of its former state. He tightened his grip onto the handle as if his life depended on it. The pouring rain fell onto his face, disguising what was tears and what was rain, so much so that not even Natan knew, all he knew is that there were both. He recalled what had just happened and how his father hadn’t even needed to use his Manifestation to absolutely crush him. He didn’t need his manifestation to destroy his own son's soul. He hadn’t even needed his manifestation to excommunicate his son from the clan. He hadn’t even needed his manifestation to do anything. His father was the mighty Rose Clan’s leader. The man was the symbol of the strong. Not of his son. Not of weaklings like Nathan Rose.
Nathan felt cursed. Cursed that he was weak. Cursed that he had no way to change that. His Manifestation was the weakest in the history of the Legendary Rose Clan founded by Dolan Rose himself. The legend once wielded a bright red sword which shone with the power of the strongest Manifestation in recorded history. The man who sealed the four great beasts. The man who created one of the superpowers of the continent. Thinking of his ancestor's brilliant red sword he looked at his own. Instead of emanating power it seemed to crave it, need it. Its blade so dark the light around it appeared to be sucked in as if it were a black hole. He hated his sword. It was weak, but deep down he knew that it only reflected his own strength. He was weak. He had worked so hard to perfect his skills. He could beat almost anyone in the clan in a one on one fight if neither of them used their Manifestations.
Stolen story; please report.
But the Rose clan wasn't that kind of place. Your manifestation’s strength determined your social status and influence within the clan. The Rose Clan was known for their powerful offensive manifestations. In the grading system, a manifestation's power is graded with a number due to its power, whatever it may be, out of 100. The lowest grade any Rose Clan member has ever had was seventy-eight. A number which, in the outside world was considered high above average, a monster among men, but the Rose clan were more than monsters among men. They were Gods among monsters. Nathan, however, could not be considered close to anyone else in the clan regarding Manifestation power. His manifestation’s power was 0. Considered cannon fodder not just in the Rose clan, but to everyone in the world. He held a story so low that he only shared it with those who die. But he was probably dead, that’s the only way a manifestation can break after all.
Nathan lay there for at least a full day and night, fading in and out of consciousness. Each time he closed his eyes he would see his former father in front of him. Saying the words, “Come back when you are the strongest. Only when you above your peers in every way, shape, and form should I ever see you again.” All this, his father said with a monotone voice and without a single expression of his face except a few twitches of disgust. He didn’t even care enough to be disappointed. He had gotten up again and again and swung his sword, but his father did not even have to try to defeat him. Blown away again and again, until the impossible happened, and his sword broke. It didn’t matter how hard he tried or trained; he could never win.
Nathan opened his eyes again. He had lost track of how long he had laid there. His stomach screamed, and his throat hurt. Not even the wildlife would give him the light of day. He thought if he had been stronger he would not have lost to his father. He would have to die a place like this.
Right before Nathan slipped into unconsciousness for the last time, he mustered the strength to hold up his hand, trying to reach the sky. The wind billowed the trees, shaking them. Their leaves fell, blocking his sight of the blue above. His body screamed at him to stop, the wounds on his body reopened from the slightest movement. The pain was like an order, demanding him to lie down and die, but he didn’t listen. He managed to force enough air out of his lungs to say just five simple words.
“I wish I was strong.”
As he closed his eyes for the last time, his hand started to fall. But then it stopped. He opened his eyes slightly and saw an old man crouched down clutching his hand. “Boy,” He said, “You wish to become strong?” Nathan managed to nod. The old man looked Nathan right in the eye and said, “You cannot change the past, however, do not let that stop you from changing the future.” The old man put his hands under Nathan’s back and legs. “Come along then. Daylight’s wasting...” and walked into the forest with Nathan in his arms.
This is the story of a boy. A boy who would one day become a man. A man who would one day become a warrior. A warrior who would one day become a Hero, and a hero who would one day become a Legend. He is known as Blackthorne, Soulstealer, Undying, Godslayer, but most commonly known as “The Shattered Swordsman”.