Journey to Become the Zenith

"I need to buy some new equipment for this quest, after that let’s head out." Clara was surprised to hear Victor say this. She was so sure that he would just say, no need for preparations let’s head out. Even Lane was surprised by what Victor said.

It was such an uncharacteristically practical thing for Victor to say that both simply stared at him.

"...You?" she said, suspicious. "Planning ahead?"

"What, disappointed?"

Lane let out a soft laugh she tried—and failed—to suppress.

Yet Clara still looked unconvinced.

Preparation was... not his signature.

Lane studied him quietly.

Not impulsive.

Intentional.

After trio left the guild go find best weapon shop in city.

Hammer blows rang like battle drums across narrow stone streets. Furnace light spilled from open workshops in orange rivers. The air carried iron dust, smoke, sweat, and old fire.

Blades glimmered under lantern glow.

Victor walked ahead, black hair brushing his collar, golden eyes moving over every storefront with silent scrutiny. Lane remained at his side, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Clara followed, arms folded, still occasionally giving Victor suspicious glances.

Victor looked at a row of polearms hanging outside a forge.

Lane tilted her head.

Victor only said—

That answer made Clara and Lane exchange a glance.

Diana stirred.

Listening.

They stopped before a weaponsmith whose reputation was older than the district itself.

Steel Wind Armory.

Victor went to a weapon shop and bought a spear. This confused not only Lane and Clara, but even Diana was confused as well. She though that the weapon Victor would buy would be something like two short swords. Diana who had dived deep into Victor’s soul knew of his numerous reincarnations, especially that of Azriel, and most of these reincarnations were dual bladed wielders. So Diana was pretty sure that he would buy short swords.

but a spear.

Dark steel head.

Deadly simplicity.

Then blinked again.

Lane stared openly.

Even the old weaponsmith looked faintly surprised when Victor tested the weapon’s weight with practiced ease, spinning it once so cleanly the air whispered.

Not experimental.

Like an old memory waking.

"Master, why buy a spear? Why not buy two short swords instead, weren’t those what you were practicing on using in the forest?" Diana’s voice echoed in Victor’s mind.

There was affection in the motion.

His answer came inward, only for Diana.

Diana fell silent.

And she knew—

Victor’s twin-blade forms were too violent.

Too brutal for ordinary steel.

Lane overheard none of that inner exchange, but she saw something in Victor’s expression soften.

Something remembered.

Victor nodded.

Clara crossed her arms.

Victor lifted the spear slightly.

"I see... Still why a spear though?"

And truthfully—

Victor gave the spear another measured turn.

Fluid.

Even Clara’s eyes widened slightly.

That was muscle memory.

He said it almost casually.

Clara snorted.

Victor smiled.

Lane stepped closer, fingertips brushing the spear shaft.

Not a question.

Victor looked at her.

"In another life."

He said strange things sometimes.

She never knew which.

"You handle a spear like a battlefield noble."

The man continued.

Victor gave only a faint smile.

The smith lowered his voice.

Victor’s eyes flickered.

Azriel’s memories.

Broken flashes—

Silver spear arcs.

A monarch of crimson eyes moving through armies.

Lane noticed Victor go quiet.

He looked at her.

That answer somehow made Clara even more uneasy.

Still—

Not nervousness.

Clara leaned toward Lane and whispered,

Lane whispered back,

Victor, overhearing both, said without turning—

Clara smirked.

Lane laughed.

The coming hunt felt far away.

Victor paid for the spear.

Purchased those too.

"More surprises?"

Now that...

He wasn’t just indulging curiosity.

Preparing.

And strangely—

Because careful Victor often meant something truly dangerous awaited.

Victor rested the spear over one shoulder.

Clara kept studying him.

"You’re smiling again."

Because he was.

It felt like a proving ground.

Diana’s voice murmured with quiet amusement.

Victor almost answered aloud.

And kept walking toward the coming blood.