The Magic Sword Sacrifa
If you had to name the strongest weapons obtainable in a hero-genre game, the Holy Sword and the Magic Sword would take the top spots without question.
They are the blades the protagonist somehow manages to claim and wield—almost always packed with overwhelming power.
I never got them in the game, though, did I?
In the game I played—The Hero and Party Members—no matter what I tried, I could never get my hands on either one.
There was no information on the Holy Sword anywhere. The Magic Sword at least had some lore attached to it, but even that came with a catch: only a demon could wield it.
So when I was playing the game, I never once considered using that weapon…
I have to get it now.
I was a demon now. I more than qualified.
There was no way I was going to let a weapon as rare and precious as a Magic Sword slip through my fingers. My Demonic Energy had stabilized to a reasonable degree. It was time to claim it.
"Anyone there?"
I stepped into the archives of the Demon King's Castle.
A moment later, I called out again.
To anyone watching from the side, it would have looked like I was talking to empty air—but I wasn't crazy, and there was a good reason for it.
"It's been quite some time since I've had a visitor."
A magic circle bloomed beneath the floor, and a girl rose into view.
She had ominous purple hair and wore a gothic lolita dress.
"A pleasure to meet you, Hero Ronan."
Her name was Ephirte. She had managed these archives alone for thousands of years—ever since the Demon King's Castle first came into existence.
Ephirte offered me a formal, polished greeting.
"You recognized me. How remarkable."
She looked genuinely surprised.
Hardly any demons even knew she existed. She managed the archives in secret and almost never showed herself.
"I have my ways of knowing things."
Well, of course I did. I had cleared every route in the game and explored every accessible region. That was how I knew.
I'd found a room that looked like an empty archive and figured something had to be hidden there. After poking around long enough, I'd discovered Ephirte—and from her, I'd learned that the Magic Sword existed somewhere in the demon realm.
"So, what brings you here?"
"I have a question."
"And what might that be?"
"The location of the Magic Sword—Sacrifa."
Back then, learning that only demons could use it had forced me to give up on the spot. But things were different now.
I was a demon. I had every right to wield it.
This time, I asked Ephirte for the Magic Sword's location outright. If anyone knew where it was, it would be her.
"…How astonishing. You even know about the Magic Sword…"
Ephirte looked surprised all over again.
"You don't feel much like the Hero Ronan I thought I knew."
Her role was to hide in the archives and observe the world. She had some knowledge of Ronan by design—so of course the version of me standing in front of her would strike her as strange.
"I didn't come here to trade small talk."
I understood why she was surprised. I even understood the feeling behind it. But that wasn't why I was here.
I was starting to get impatient. She could find me fascinating or not—that was her business. I just wanted an answer.
I pressed her with a touch of irritation in my voice.
"My apologies. That was rude of me. I will tell you what I know of the Magic Sword. As you are a demon now, Hero Ronan, you do at least qualify to possess it."
Ephirte recalled her place and began to speak of the Magic Sword in earnest.
I held the rank of one of the Four Heavenly Kings. She occupied a somewhat independent position within demon society, but even so, she was obligated to treat a member of the Four Heavenly Kings with the respect the rank demanded.
"This would be the book you want, I believe."
Light gathered in her hand. A moment later, a single volume flew from a far corner of the archives and settled into her palm.
That would be the book on the Magic Sword.
"Still… I am concerned."
I reached for it, but before I could take it, Ephirte stopped me—as if to ask whether I was truly sure.
"Concerned?"
"Yes. The Magic Sword is dangerous, after all."
"Dangerous how?"
"Hmm… I'm not quite sure how to put this…"
She hesitated for a beat, then began to explain.
"In all of history, not a single being who claimed the Magic Sword Sacrifa has survived."
She described it as an object that inevitably brought ruin.
"They say that to walk with Sacrifa is to have everything taken from you."
A Magic Sword steeped in grim legend, she said.
"Of course, that is somewhat distorted information. The Magic Sword has no such function. But there is a reason those legends took root."
She added that the stories had simply been twisted over time.
"What is certain is that the Magic Sword is extraordinarily inefficient. Its power is alluring—but no one can bear the cost of it."
The truth of the Magic Sword, it seemed, lay in how difficult it was to use.
"The more you wield it, the greater the toll on your body."
It was no ordinary blade. It demanded extreme caution.
"And yet, those who claim it cannot bring themselves to abandon its power—and so, in the end, it brings them to ruin."
Even knowing the danger, the Magic Sword's strength was so seductive that it inevitably killed its master.
"Knowing all of this, do you still intend to claim it, Hero Ronan?"
Having told me everything she knew, Ephirte looked at me with genuine worry.
Are you really going to be all right?
I already expected it to be dangerous.
Would I really be fine? I'd never heard any of this when I played as Hero Ronan. These were additional details I was hearing from Ephirte for the first time, and yes—they were a little frightening.
No wonder they locked it away so tightly.
I could see why. If it hadn't been dangerous, they never would have sealed it. They would have put it to good use themselves.
I had every reason to hesitate. But I told her I was fine.
"Doesn't matter."
Because I was a hero.
"I'm not the kind of man who gets dominated by a sword."
Heroes came loaded with absurdly overpowered abilities across the board. There was nothing to worry about.
If this had been an incomplete version of Ronan, I might have been concerned. But the Ronan I was now would never be controlled by something like a mere sword. I was sure of it.
"Just hand over the book already."
If the Magic Sword were truly that strong, it would have become the Demon King itself, played hero, and ruled the world.
I made it clear that I truly didn't care. Ephirte listened, then allowed a faint smile.
"Very well. Here you are, Hero."
She passed the book to me.
"East of the Demon King's Castle, huh…"
I flipped through the pages. It wasn't as far as I'd expected.
"Good. Thanks."
I had the location. No reason to waste any more time.
I turned to leave the archives, already planning to set out immediately.
"Hero Ronan."
Ephirte called after me one more time.
"Today's meeting was most entertaining. The more I learn of you, the more fascinating you become. I shall keep a closer eye on you from now on."
She waved, looking thoroughly satisfied.
On the surface, it was a warm and kindly thing to say… but wasn't she just announcing that she planned to keep peeping on me?
"Do whatever you want."
It left a faintly unpleasant taste, but in this world, that level of surveillance barely ranked as a quirk. Fine. Suit yourself.
I returned her farewell halfheartedly and left the archives behind.
Then I headed straight for the location marked on the map.
"This the place?"
After roughly two hours of walking across empty plains, I finally arrived at the spot the map indicated.
"Hmm…"
On the surface, there was nothing. At first I thought I'd come to the wrong place—but fortunately, that wasn't the case.
"Here it is."
Hidden was the right word for it.
The moment I stepped onto the marked location, I felt myself pass through an invisible dimensional boundary.
"So this is where the Magic Sword is sealed—the Hell Dungeon."
On the other side of that threshold, an entirely different world unfolded.
Clear this dungeon, and the Magic Sword would be mine. That was the deal, right?
The moment I entered the dungeon, seven difficulty options appeared before my eyes.
A system where the rewards scaled with the difficulty, huh?
With seven choices laid out like that, picking the right one mattered more than anything.
"Torment, obviously."
And of course, I went straight for the highest difficulty.
What was there to think about?
I selected Torment.
Torment difficulty has been set.
As a reward, the Magic Sword Sacrifa is guaranteed to appear.
And with that, the dungeon began to reconfigure itself around my choice.
"Time to go claim a Magic Sword."
For the war that was coming, nothing would prepare me better than this blade.
I stepped into the dungeon without hesitation.