Kyle stood in his room, staring at his sword.
The blade was chipped in three places. The edge was dull, no matter how many times he sharpened it, and the leather grip was fraying.
`This thing is falling apart.`
He turned it over in his hands. The metal caught the light of the three moons filtering through the window.
He could buy a new one. The shop had better swords—sharper and stronger.
But that would cost points. Points he was saving.
`Nine hundred and twenty.`
Eighty only. That's all he needed to reach a thousand. Then he could integrate the world's power rank system into his status. Then he could see where he actually stood.
He sighed and slid the sword into its sheath.
`Two more weeks. Maybe three. I can manage with this junk until then.`
He called Nightmare.
Golden sparks burst from the mark on his hand. The bird materialized on the floor—four wings folded, three golden eyes blinking slowly. The smaller eyes along its wing roots stared at nothing.
