Lyriq Raveline-The Time Swordsman

The next day, Lyriq woke before the sun. His body ached from training, but his mind burned with a single thought:

If I defeat the undefeated… I'll become undeniable.

That name Augustis Volcaro echoed in his skull like war drums.So he pushed harder. Trained longer. Read deeper.

In the narrow inn room, he practiced his observation skills. His eyes locked onto a bird perched outside the window. At first, he misread its movements—predicting it would take flight when it stayed still, or turn left when it turned right. But slowly… patterns began to emerge. He learned the pauses, the tail flicks, the subtle shifts of weight before it moved.

He wasn't just watching anymore. He was reading time.

Two full days passed. Lyriq hadn't stepped outside since arriving in Carcel. The man had gone out and returned with bundles of heavy metal rings and cloth straps.

"Wear these while you train," he said, tossing them at Lyriq. "You need to feel the weight of your own weakness before you can lift strength."

The moment the weighted gear wrapped around his limbs, Lyriq could barely stand. Every step was effort. Every movement, a grind.

"You'll learn what stamina means now," the man said. "And once you're used to it... we're going outside."

Lyriq's heart leapt.

His first steps into the world.

*****

The streets of Carcel were alive and roaring. Clanging hammers echoed through the alleys. Merchants barked prices. Blades gleamed in stalls. Workers pushed carts loaded with raw ore and blackened scrap.

The man gestured at the crowds."Welcome to Carcel. The forge of Meredica."

As they walked, he continued:

"Carcel's the subkingdom of meredica. You want swords, bows, armor, or enchanted junk? You find it here. Ruled by Naron Carcel an old warhound with three sons and a daughter, all warriors. This city doesn't sleep it sharpens."

Lyriq soaked it all in the steam rising from smithies, the smell of coal, the gleam of blades, the thunder of hammers.

They stopped at a roadside weaponsmith surrounded by other cramped stalls. The man pointed at a small rack."Pick a bow. One that fits you."

As Lyriq examined the bows, his gaze wandered.A few stalls down, he saw an elderly woman holding a shimmering necklace with a pulsing crystal at its center.

Curious, Lyriq stepped closer.

She noticed him watching and smiled."Do you know magic, child?"

Lyriq shook his head. "I'm a swordsman. I don't know how to use magic."

She held up the necklace."This necklace stores spells. Fire, wind, lightning whatever you seal into it. When danger comes, you can use this necklace to protect yourself when you are physically exhausted"

Lyriq blinked.He hadn't asked but she told him anyway.

Then, as he opened his mouth to reply—she vanished.

He spun around. Looked left. Right. Nothing.

The crowd moved as if she was never there.

He returned to the man, eyes still searching.

"Who was that woman?"

The man didn't even look up."In Carcel, some things find you when you're ready. Let it go."

Lyriq held the bow tightly.

He didn't know if that woman was real, a mage, or something else entirely.

But something told him—this was only the beginning.