The peak was unnaturally silent.
No wind brushed against the stone. No birds circled overhead. Even the distant sounds of the mountain seemed muted, as though something unseen had pressed its palm over the world itself.
I slowed my steps.
The air here felt different—heavier, denser. Not hostile, but restrained. It was the kind of pressure that didn't repel intruders outright, but instead waited patiently, as if judging whether one was worthy of advancing further.
Near a jagged outcrop just below the summit, I found it.
A narrow cave entrance, half‑concealed by fractured stone and thin layers of moss. It was utterly unremarkable—easy to overlook, easy to dismiss. And that alone confirmed it.
This was the place.
I didn't draw my weapon.
I didn't even reach for it.
Instead, I took a slow, steady breath and stepped inside.
The passage was tight, forcing me to move carefully. Within a few steps, darkness swallowed the light behind me completely. I formed a faint mana glow in my palm, deliberately keeping its output weak.
The cave walls came into view.
"Haaah…"
Letting out a long breath, I stared dazedly at the scenery before me.
"I expected something out of the norm, but this…"
Overwhelmed—that was the only word that accurately described the sensation gripping me at that moment.
Taking another deep breath, I forced myself to focus and truly look at the cave walls.
They were covered in countless cuts—thin, straight, and unnervingly precise. Each mark ended abruptly, as though the blade that created it had vanished halfway through its motion.
Not training marks.
Demonstrations.
Records.
I brushed my fingers lightly along one of the cuts.
Cold.
Far colder than the surrounding stone.
The cave reacted—not violently, but subtly. The air shifted, and the mana around me began to flow more smoothly, as if acknowledging my presence.
I continued forward.
The passage gradually widened, opening into a circular chamber carved with unnatural symmetry. The floor was smooth—almost polished—and completely free of dust, as though no one had ever walked here before.
At the center stood nothing.
No pedestal.
No artifact.
Just bare stone.
I stopped.
This was where most would turn back.
I closed my eyes.
The first condition had never been about finding something.
It was about arriving correctly.
I relaxed my breathing and allowed my mana to settle into a slow, stable circulation. No aggression. No intent to dominate the space. Just presence.
Minutes passed.
The cave remained silent.
Then—
Something clicked.
Not a sound, but a sensation—like the faint shift of a mechanism that hadn't moved in centuries.
The air grew colder.
Thin lines appeared on the floor beneath my feet, glowing faintly as they spread outward in a perfect circular pattern. Along the walls, the countless cuts began to resonate, humming softly as their edges shimmered.
I opened my eyes.
The chamber was changing.
Stone folded inward. Hidden seams revealed themselves as the center of the room rose slowly from the ground, forming a low pedestal that hadn't existed moments before.
Still, nothing rested atop it.
I didn't move.
The second condition required stillness.
Impatience meant rejection.
I remained where I was, resisting the instinctive urge to approach, to reach out, to claim what lay before me.
Time passed.
My legs began to ache. My mana thinned slightly as it continued circulating without interruption.
Then the pressure descended.
Not crushing.
Testing.
It pressed against my awareness, probing for hesitation, for fear, for greed.
I met it without resistance.
I wasn't here to own the sword art.
I was here because I needed it.
The pressure eased.
The third condition was fulfilled.
The space above the pedestal distorted.
Light gathered—not bright, not radiant, but precise. Thin lines overlapped and intersected, weaving together until the unmistakable outline of a book took shape.
A manual.
Black cover.
No title.
No ornamentation.
It hovered silently above the pedestal, its pages unmoving.
The moment it fully manifested, the cuts along the cave walls vanished, leaving behind smooth stone as though they had never existed.
The chamber felt complete.
Only then did I step forward.
Each step was deliberate, measured—careful not to disturb the fragile balance of the space. When I reached the pedestal, I extended my hand.
The moment my fingers touched the manual—
My vision fractured.
Not painfully, but sharply.
Fragments of motion flooded my mind. A sword drawn—not faster, not stronger—but at the precise instant where motion itself ceased to matter. A strike that existed for only a fraction of a moment before ending itself entirely.
No follow‑through.
No aftermath.
Only an ending without continuation.
I staggered, catching myself against the pedestal as my breathing turned ragged.
The manual grew warm beneath my fingers, then dissolved into countless threads of light that streamed into my chest and vanished.
The pedestal crumbled into dust.
The chamber stilled.
When my vision cleared, the cave looked ordinary once more.
No glow.
No pressure.
No sign that anything extraordinary had occurred.
But I knew.
[Severed Moment] was now etched into my mind.
Complete.
Dangerous.
And unforgiving.
I turned toward the cave entrance.
Claiming the sword art was only the beginning.
Surviving its mastery would be the real trial.
Then—
"Ding."
A system notification surfaced before my eyes.
The host has altered the original plot slightly.
Reward: 1 Lottery Draw.
Reward: 1 Fate Point.
Seeing the words plot alteration, a flicker of despair passed through me. But as I read the notification fully, I released a quiet sigh of relief.
The deviation was minor.
Acceptable.
My gaze lingered on the lottery draw.
I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement.
System lotteries were infamous for their unpredictability. Sometimes they produced nothing but trash‑tier consumables. Other times… they handed out items capable of reshaping an entire growth path.
Still, excitement didn't justify recklessness.
I suppressed the urge to activate it immediately and dismissed the notification with a thought. This wasn't the place to test my luck. Mountains like these were rarely as empty as they appeared, and the aftermath of unlocking a hidden sword art was already enough to draw unwanted attention.
Besides, system rewards weren't going anywhere.
I could use the draw later—somewhere safe—where I could properly assess whatever I obtained without worrying about ambushes or sudden anomalies.
For now, what mattered was that I had succeeded.
[Severed Moment] was mine.
The knowledge sat heavy in my mind—unfamiliar, yet precise—like a blade I had never wielded, but somehow understood instinctively.
Even without testing it, I knew this wasn't a sword art that allowed mistakes.
One misjudged timing.
One flawed execution.
And the consequences would be immediate.
I exhaled slowly and turned toward the cave entrance.
Staying here any longer would be foolish.
Adjusting my posture, I began making my way out of the chamber—leaving behind nothing but ordinary stone, and carrying with me a technique that could decide whether I lived or died in the days to come.