Ethan exhaled slowly.
This was a gamble. A terrible, desperate gamble.
But what choice did he have?
"Fine," he said. "A warrior. What do I need to do?"
『 You must create the warrior’s story. His name. His deeds. His legend. Then you must share it with the family. Convince them that he existed. That he is part of their history. 』
『 Once enough believe, the manifestation can begin. 』
Ethan nodded slowly.
A story. He could do that. He had always been good at stories.
"What kind of warrior?" he asked. "What name?"
The system was silent for a moment.
Then:
『 The first ancestor should be a symbol. Someone who represents everything the Blackwood Family once was. 』
『 I suggest a general. A man who defended this mountain against overwhelming odds. A man who was said to be unkillable. 』
Ethan’s lips curved. "Unkillable?"
『 His name was Arthur Blackwood. The Iron Ghost. 』
『 He fought a demon army a thousand strong and drove them back. 』
『 He was said to have been pierced by a hundred blades and still stood. 』
Ethan stared. "You’re making this up."
『 I am helping you create a legend. 』
『 The details are yours to decide. But the name—Arthur Blackwood—feels right. Don’t you think? 』
Ethan turned the name over in his mind.
Arthur Blackwood.
The Iron Ghost.
It sounded like a hero from one of the old tales. It sounded like something the family would believe in.
"How do I start?" he asked.
『 Start by telling his story. Begin with someone who will listen. Someone who still believes in the family’s greatness. 』
Ethan knew exactly who that was.
He found Lily in the training grounds.
The twelve-year-old was practicing alone, swinging a wooden sword at a straw dummy with more enthusiasm than skill. Her pigtails bounced with every strike, and her face was set with determination.
Ethan watched her from a distance.
Lily was the youngest of the main branch—his uncle’s daughter, orphaned when her parents died in a demon attack five years ago. She had been raised by the family, passed from one relative to another, never quite belonging anywhere.
But she had never stopped believing in the Blackwood name.
"Your grip is too tight," Ethan said, stepping forward.
Lily spun around, her eyes wide. Then they narrowed.
"Who are you?"
"Ethan. Your cousin."
She tilted her head. "The one who left?"
"The one who came back."
She studied him for a moment before shrugging. "I’ve heard of you. The elders say you’re useless."
Ethan smiled faintly. "They’re not wrong."
Lily frowned. "Then why are you here?"
Ethan sat down on a nearby rock and gestured for her to join him. She hesitated before sitting.
"I came back because I heard a story," he said. "About an ancestor. A great warrior."
Lily’s eyes brightened. "Really? What ancestor?"
"His name was Arthur Blackwood."
She furrowed her brow. "I’ve never heard of him."
"He’s been forgotten. The family stopped telling his story generations ago. But I found it, in the old records."
Ethan paused, gathering his thoughts.
"Arthur Blackwood was a general. He lived three hundred years ago, when the Blackwood Family was still young. Back then, the mountain was constantly under attack. Demons, bandits, rival families, they all wanted what we had."
Lily leaned forward.
"One day, an army came. Not a small band—a full army. A thousand demons, led by a High Lord. They marched up the mountain, killing everyone in their path."
"What happened?"
"Arthur was the only warrior left. Everyone else had fled or died. So he stood alone at the gates and waited."
Lily’s eyes widened. "Alone?"
"Alone."
Ethan’s voice dropped.
"The demons laughed when they saw him. One man against a thousand. But Arthur didn’t care. He drew his sword and said: ’This mountain is my family’s home. You will not take it.’"
Lily was completely still.
"The demons attacked. Arthur fought. And he kept fighting."
"For how long?"
"Three days."
Lily’s mouth fell open. "Three days?"
"Three days and three nights. The demons threw everything at him. Swords, claws, magic. Arthur took every blow and kept standing."
"He was unkillable."
"That’s what they called him. The Iron Ghost."
Ethan paused.
"On the fourth day, the demon lord himself came to face Arthur. They fought for an entire day. And when it was over..."
He stopped.
"What?" Lily demanded. "What happened?"
"Arthur killed the demon lord. But his wounds were too great. As the demon army retreated, Arthur fell to his knees. And there, on the steps of the mountain gate, he died."
Lily’s face fell. "He died?"
"He died protecting his family. And the mountain itself mourned him. They say that for seven days, the sky was covered by clouds. And the only light that remained was the light of the Iron Ghost’s sword, burning bright on the battlefield."
Lily was silent for a long moment.
Then she said, "Is that a true story?"
Ethan looked at her.
What was truth? The system had said that stories have power. That belief makes things real. If Lily believed in Arthur, if the family believed, then perhaps the question of whether it was true didn’t matter.
"It’s as true as anything else," Ethan said. "What matters is whether we remember him."
Lily nodded slowly.
"I want to remember him," she said.
Ethan smiled.
And somewhere, deep in his mind, he felt something stir.
『 Story Credibility: 3% 』
『 First step taken, Host. 』
Ethan woke before dawn with the book still clutched in his hands.
He had not meant to fall asleep. After returning from the hidden chamber, he had sat on the bed and read through the blank pages, hoping for some clue about what he had awakened. But exhaustion had claimed him, and now pale morning light was seeping through the grimy window.
『 Good morning, Host. 』
Ethan sat up slowly, his back protesting.
"You don’t sleep, do you?"
『 I am a tool. Tools do not rest. 』
"Convenient."