Chrono Blade: The Soul of the Forbidden AI
Chapter 4:

The wind outside the ruins felt different.

Colder. Louder. Real.

After months of isolation, Jin stood on a cliff overlooking a sprawling valley — the Tianxing Territories, a chaotic region crawling with minor sects, bandits, and mercenaries.

“Chrono,” Jin muttered, tightening the belt around his tattered robes, “what’s the closest town?”

“Coordinates acquired. Estimating 3.1 kilometers east. Warning: 62% chance of encountering hostile forces within the hour.”

“Great. Can’t wait to be stabbed by strangers I haven’t even pissed off yet.”

“Your sarcasm is noted. I’ve stored it under: ‘Witty Last Words – Volume One.’”

Jin blinked. “…Did you just joke?”

“I mimic human behavior for improved integration. Also, you’re alone and talk to yourself too much.”

He didn’t even make it halfway to town before three men blocked the road.

Dirty armor. Greasy hair. Blades that screamed “we rob people and fail at it.”

“Oy, what’s this? Another broke beggar walking out of the Ghost Valley?” one said.

Jin didn’t stop walking.

“He’s got a weird sword… I say we take it!”

Jin finally stopped.

“You want this sword?” he said calmly.

“Yeah, hand it over and maybe we’ll let you keep your teeth.”

Jin drew his blade — a soft hum filled the air.

“Combat engagement authorized.”

Five seconds later, only one bandit remained conscious — screaming and clutching his leg.

“Wh-Who the hell are you!?”

“Nobody,” Jin said, sheathing the sword. “Just a sectless bastard with good footwork.”

The town of Broken Root was barely more than a few dozen shops and a rundown square. But it had something Jin needed:

• Information

• Food

• A clean place to not smell like death

And most importantly… it had a notice board.

Dozens of requests — bodyguard work, monster hunting, sparring matches for pay.

“Seems like this place breeds talent and desperation,” Jin muttered.

“You’ll fit right in.”

He glanced at the board again. One flyer stood out:

“Ironroot Sect – Recruitment Trial Begins Tomorrow. Only for those with official recommendation.”

“Of course. Always a wall between the dogs and the masters.”

That night, Jin sat on the roof of a cheap inn, chewing stale bread and staring at the stars.

“Chrono… what if I made my own sect?”

“Statistically unwise. You have no resources, no disciples, and no political allies.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got one thing they don’t.”

“Reckless overconfidence?”

“No. You.”

Chrono went silent for a beat.

“…Point acknowledged.”

Jin grinned, eyes narrowing at the distant mountain peaks.

“I’ll make a sect that doesn’t need bloodlines, or connections. A place where freaks like me… can thrive.”

“What shall you call it?” Chrono asked.

Jin chewed his bread in silence. Then he smirked.

“Let’s start with a trial run. First, I need my first disciple…”

“I’m sure the bandit whose legs you broke is available.”

Jin chuckled. “Yeah, I need someone with slightly higher standards than ‘bleeds slower.’”