Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Chosen by the Holy Sword (3)
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"You'll draw me, right?"
"That."
"I'm so happy... Finally, I get to meet my new true master!"
"Hey."
"Oh, right. Unlike the other Bilheims, Robertus has a weak body, so I'm not sure if you can wield me properly... But don't worry! I'll adjust to you completely."
"Hm."
"So, let's stay together from now on, okay?"
"......"
"...Hey, why aren't you answering?"
This bitch?
No. Calm down.
I can't let her drag me into her pace.
"An answer, huh..."
To be honest, I don't want to draw her.
Of course, the holy sword's story is heartbreaking.
And as a descendant of the Bilheim family, I feel a twinge of guilt knowing that my ancestors, starting with our father, who at least looked human, were the cause.
Watching her face swell with anticipation for her long-awaited freedom makes me want to grant her wish even more.
But still, no.
I've already pulled insane aggro by showing up at the succession ceremony hand-in-hand with the pope...
And now they want me to draw the holy sword that's been sealed away?
Are they telling me to go beyond Duke of the North and become the legendary hero?
It's true that our ancestors' reason for sealing the holy sword was trash...
Part of me wants to ignore whatever the sword says, like they did, finish the succession ceremony, and reseal her as is.
"..."
But facing those bright green eyes full of expectation, my mouth won't open easily.
...For now, maybe I should carefully lay some groundwork.
"Um..."
"Yes?"
"Just in case, hypothetically. Not my real feelings at all."
"...Yes."
"What if I say... I don't want to, right here?"
Her smile vanishes like a lie.
"...You'll abandon me?"
"No, it wasn't mine to begin with..."
"What are you talking about? The moment I was bound to the first Bilheim's sword, my ownership was tied to the Bilheim bloodline. And since you're this generation's Duke of the North, you're naturally my current master, Robertus Bilheim."
I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue: I don't need you.
A sword where ownership is forcibly assigned even if the person refuses?
What kind of holy sword is that? It's a cursed demon sword.
Anyway... I need to persuade her first.
Just being Duke of the North is overwhelming enough. I have to avoid becoming the holy sword's master at all costs.
"L-Listen... Aurelion, I fully understand your grievances."
"...Yes."
"But I'm not like the Bilheim ancestors who tore monsters apart barehanded and boasted monstrous strength. I'm just an ordinary human."
"So?"
"So, maybe there's a better way for both of us..."
"..."
Aurelion's eyes widened in shock.
"...You're really going to abandon me?"
Her beautiful green eyes began to well up.
"No, no! I don't mean abandon you. Hear me out? I have my own circumstances too..."
"I see. You don't need me..."
"That's not it...! Of course I'd love to. Who wouldn't? Becoming the master of a holy sword. But I'm more the type who excels at using my brain rather than brute force, so I rarely need to draw a sword..."
"Sob... I thought I could finally come out into the world after 150 years, but now I have to be locked away again..."
"I'm not shoving you back into a cave! After the succession ceremony, I'll prepare a special space for you in our mansion..."
For what felt like a solid thirty minutes after that, I tried every proposal and sweet talk to soothe the holy sword.
"Abandoned... again..."
But she just kept repeating that she was abandoned, refusing to stop crying.
Now the holy sword was sitting on the floor, sobbing outright.
"This is driving me crazy..."
As I pondered how to calm her down,
"...Right. You're no different from your ancestors after all."
She muttered suddenly.
That stings a bit?
Those guys were inhuman scum, while I'm just a prodigal son. Still human. Clearly different leagues.
...
But that's not the point right now.
"Fine. I thought I could fulfill my role as the holy sword once more..."
Aurelion's voice held no trace of its former brightness or cheer.
It was gloomy, laced with resentment—a soliloquy of despair.
"Since even you, my last hope, have abandoned me... I have no value left."
Black aura spread from her center.
The empty space began to darken, stained black.
"Uh... hey?"
"Lord God, Bilheim, holy sword... I don't need any of it."
Like ink drops on white paper, purple spots spread across her pure white dress.
"Let's talk this out first..."
"If I can't have it, I'll destroy it."
And her eerie purple eyes turned toward me.
"First, Robertus. You."
Slash!
The moment she pointed her index finger at me, black thorns appeared from thin air, piercing my limbs.
"Gaaah!"
I screamed in agony as pain pierced my entire body.
From the punctured wounds, not red blood but black sludge dripped down the thorns.
She slowly walked toward me, pinned in midair by the thorns.
"You... you're a holy... sword... This is clearly black magic..."
"Right. I tried mimicking it with demonic energy. I saw demons use something similar back in the day."
"How do you... have demonic energy?"
"Who knows? Even I don't. Just trapped in that cave, resenting and cursing your ancestors who abandoned me, and Lord God Juten who imposed this fate on me, until I finally resigned myself... day after day."
"At some point, I suddenly felt not just my original holy power, but a corrupted energy inside me too."
Demonic energy is an energy that can directly affect reality, like mana or holy power, but fundamentally different.
Mana is pure energy, holy power is the light born from faith and belief.
But demonic energy is corrupted power rooted in negative emotions like malice and hatred from sentient beings.
Demons wield demonic energy, and among humans, black mages who follow demons use it as the source of their black magic.
In other words, a holy sword using demonic energy means...
"The holy sword has fallen?"
"Ahaha! No, no. Just having demonic energy inside wouldn't corrupt me. I'm a holy relic blessed directly by the Lord God, after all. It never affected me before. I just kept it sealed inside since I had no master to wield me and release it."
"Then why..."
"Just... Being abandoned by you, my master... Everything felt empty. So this time, I thought I'd let the demonic energy consume me."
"W-Wait, what about the restrictions as God's messenger? You can't wield your full power unless it's a Bilheim..."
"Exactly. So I'm giving up being a holy sword. I'll lose most of my holy power... but I still have this demonic energy, right?"
"What..."
"This should be enough to control everyone at this succession ceremony. Let's see. Some strong-looking soldiers, that old priest might be annoying but no issue... Huh? What's with that blonde girl. Eh, nothing from her, so she's irrelevant."
Aurelion wasn't speaking metaphorically—she was truly becoming a demon sword.
More precisely, on the verge of falling into one.
Her expression was grotesque.
A wicked smile stretched from ear to ear...
"...So cruel."
But tears of endless black streamed from her eyes.
"So cruel, so cruel, so cruel... Why won't you draw me? Why abandon me? What did I do wrong?"
"..."
"...Fine. Now it doesn't matter. I'll shatter your soul almost to oblivion first, then seal you eternally. That way, you can't abandon me."
Her icy fingertips brushed my cheek.
"And after... Yeah. Should I kill everyone else at this ceremony? No. Like the demons did, make humans my minions. Corrupt the Bilheim family that abandoned me and their territory, then the Radain Church that serves Lord God Juten who forsook me."
She leaned in close and laughed.
"To show you who abandoned me. And Lord God Juten who ignored my abandonment."
"..."
Apparently, the negative emotions she felt while sealed had coalesced into demonic energy.
If this continues, I'll definitely die.
No, my soul trapped eternally in the holy sword—worse than death.
And not just me; everyone at the succession ceremony will be caught up.
Of course, with the pope here, it might be fine...
...But what if, by some chance, even the pope can't stop the holy sword?
Demonic energy condensed over 150 years, originating from a holy sword.
Its power is beyond imagination.
Even if the pope barely stops it, what if he or the attendees suffer irreparable damage?
...
"...Damn it. There was only one choice from the start."
"Huh? What was that?"
"...Aurelion."
"What? I was just about to show you something fun."
"I'll draw you."
"...!"
She stared at me in stunned silence.
"...Liar. You're just trying to escape this situation."
"No. I'm serious."
"But earlier you said no..."
"Precisely, I said 'what if I said no'."
"...?"
"Think back carefully to our conversation... I never once said I wouldn't draw you, Aurelion."
I'd hinted strongly at reluctance through nuance, but never outright refused.
Not intentionally, just how it came out while beating around the bush.
"Huh? ...Huh? You're right?"
"See? Now do you believe me?"
"But, but! Then what about all that after? Saying you're ordinary, there might be a better way..."
I cleared my throat lightly to adjust my voice before answering.
"That was... I was hesitating."
The lowest, most mellifluous tone possible. What they call a 'buttery' voice.
Overly sweet from a guy's perspective, but unmatched for setting the mood.
"Hesitating?"
"Think about it from my side. I'm a nobody. But you're the legendary holy sword Aurelion herself? The holy sword from every Northerner's legends. Blessed directly by the Lord God."
"W-What... suddenly praising me."
A faint blush crept onto Aurelion's cheeks.
Good. My acting is starting to work.
"Put yourself in my shoes. A worthless guy like me suddenly becoming the great holy sword Aurelion's master? Would you believe it?"
"I-I guess...?"
"Yeah. So I thought maybe there's a better option for you than me as master, which is why I didn't say I'd draw you right away. And also..."
"Also?"
"...You were honestly too beautiful. Both the sword and your current form."
This part was sincere.
The feminine form before me, and the sword itself.
Holy Sword Aurelion's true form was the most beautiful blade I'd ever seen.
"!"
"So... I was too embarrassed to say I'd accept you easily."
I gazed at her with the most soulful eyes I could muster.
"But seeing you suffer like this... I finally made up my mind."
A faint smile on my lips to amplify the effect.
"A bit late, but... Will you allow me to be your master, Aurelion?"
My desperate confession, infused with all my acting prowess.
After throwing it out, I cautiously gauged her reaction.
But she had her head bowed low at some point, hiding her expression.
'Did I screw up?'
"...Idiot."
Poof!
In an instant, she vanished.
The enveloping darkness.
The black thorns piercing me.
The purple tainting her.
All of it.
"...?"
Confused, I felt my body—no wounds, perfectly fine.
"Such a real idiot!"
Whoosh!
"Whoa, wait."
She tightly hugged me as I slumped to the ground.
Clearly some incarnation of the holy sword, yet her warm body heat and soft skin felt vividly real.
"Idiot, idiot! You were hesitating just because of that?"
"'Just because'? That's harsh."
"I don't care. Even if you're a wimp who can't take down a single goblin?"
"I'm not that pathetic..."
I could handle five goblins at once. ...Probably.
"Hehe. I thought you were going to abandon me..."
She buried her face in my chest and started nuzzling.
"Got it, master. No, Master. I'll forgive you for that."
"...Thanks."
Still, upgraded from 'master' to 'Master'.
"Our shy Master has some cute sides, huh? Hehe. The other Bilheims were too dumb and simple for my taste."
Aurelion looked up at me, her eyes restored to their original green.
"Take good care of me from now on, okay? Master Robertus."
She beamed brightly.
That smile added loveliness to her perfection, which had felt almost inhumanly flawless before.
"Yeah... You too."
Captured by that charm, despite what she'd done earlier, I found myself stroking her hair unconsciously.
She silently yielded to my touch, and we stayed like that, petting and being petted for a while.
"Alright! Shall we return to reality, Master? It was in the middle of the succession ceremony."
"Oh, right. The ceremony..."
"Yeah! Now draw me dramatically! That'll complete our bond, and you'll truly become my master!"
"About that drawing ritual."
"Yes?"
"Do we really have to do it?"
"Yes. You want me stuck in this ugly rock forever?"
"Ah... So that's why? I thought it had some special meaning... Anyway, let's do the drawing ritual later."
"Why?"
"Too many people watching, no real reason to do it at the succession ceremony..."
"...Why?"
Her eyes tinged purple again.
Uh-oh, she's corrupting again!
"Why can't you proudly declare to everyone that you're Holy Sword Aurelion's master? Why? Am I shameful? That confession earlier was a lie after all..."
"I-It's embarrassing! Becoming this great holy sword Aurelion's master in front of all these people? Ugh, just thinking about it makes my face burn! Really."
"...Hmmm..."
"Plus, what if people doubt it? 'How could that loser be the holy sword's master...!'"
"...Hehe. Is that it?"
Thankfully, my desperate excuse restored her eyes.
"No need to be so embarrassed~ It's fine. Come on! Let's go. I'll make it super dramatic so no one can ignore our Master."
She clasped my hands tightly together.
Intense light flooded my vision once more.
...I barely escaped crisis with my divine acting skills.
And thus, a title was added before my name.
The great Duke of the North and master of the yandere holy sword Aurelion, Robertus Bilheim.
"Gasp."
When I came to, the holy sword was visible again.
Not as the green-haired woman, but its true form in the case.
Back in the middle of the succession ceremony.
"Answer quickly, Robertus!"
Judging by the archbishop's reaction, not much real time had passed.
Flash-!
Then, light burst from the holy sword once more.
Much stronger than before. Bright enough to illuminate the entire cathedral.
Crash!
The case containing the holy sword shattered to pieces.
-Kyaaah!
-W-What's that?! Why the holy sword?
Not just the attendees,
"W-What in the world...?"
Even the archbishop—everyone here was thrown into panic.
Only I calmly walked toward the radiantly shining holy sword.
-Come on, Master! Now draw the holy sword dramatically! And show everyone! That you're this sword's master!
Hearing Aurelion's clear voice resound in my head,
Grip.
I grasped the holy sword's hilt with one hand.