The First Soul Weapon
From birth, the ability to wield 'Supernatural Power' was the exclusive domain of women.
This fact was an absolute truth that humanity had accepted as a matter of course since before recorded history, and it did not take long for it to become the common sense of the world.
Whether called psychic power, spiritual energy, magic, or ninjutsu—names varied by era and culture—the essence remained the same.
Supernatural power was a force that manifested only from the bodies and souls of women.
Because women held an overwhelming advantage in both numbers and capability, they naturally stood at the center of the world, and Earth's civilization was thoroughly formed and developed by their hands.
Historical records were always the same.
The great conquerors, the saviors, and the tyrants who gained notoriety were all women.
Men were different.
They were few in number and physically weak.
Consequently, they were pushed out of combat and politics, receiving biological attention only in terms of 'reproduction'.
Or, to put it more bluntly... they were the ones being handled, chosen, and consumed.
Thus, for a long time, the world operated under the order of women and their supernatural powers.
However, there existed another power—one that even supernatural abilities could not reach, could not explain, and could not interpret.
A power that could be seen, held in one's hand, and which often revealed itself throughout long wars and legends.
People called it 'Tangible Supernatural Power'.
The names changed with the eras, but the essence was the same.
Whether called a treasure tool, divine artifact, holy relic, or Artifact, these weapons all possessed power that transcended humanity.
And they remained as 'legends', appearing alongside the great figures in history.
These weapons were not mere tools.
Like living beings, they possessed their own will, chose their masters, and bestowed immense power upon the chosen.
And in the present day, these supernatural weapons have been unified under a single name.
That is, the 'Soul Weapon'.
On the surface, they are just ordinary objects.
They may look like a rusted sword, an old bow, or a faded accessory.
But the moment they meet their true master, even if their appearance does not change noticeably, their power becomes strong enough to twist the laws of the world.
A unique power that magic, supernatural abilities, and machines cannot imitate.
A Soul Weapon reacts to its master's emotions, awakens in times of crisis, and sometimes, that single weapon can change the outcome of a war.
Countless legends that shook myth and history were written with these weapons.
And there was a single existence that was the origin of all those legends.
Every Soul Weapon branched out from that existence, and none could reach the power of the original.
The Holy Sword.
The Demonic Spear.
The Holy Grail.
The Divine Bow.
The Spirit Staff.
The ultimate existence that could return to the primordial concept of all these weapons, the 'Origin Weapon'.
It had no fixed form and changed infinitely, capable of becoming any weapon the moment the master desired.
Possessing infinite forms and endless possibilities, this weapon was the source of numerous Soul Weapons, containing the primordial power of all armaments.
However, surprisingly, there was not a single person in human history who had actually used this powerful existence.
It appeared vaguely even in legends, myths, and ancient oral traditions, but no master had ever awakened it.
But 'she' certainly existed.
The weapon was just waiting.
Like a weapon, or rather... more than a weapon, silently, without even breathing, she had been waiting for her true master.
Even after a thousand years, and another ten thousand years passed, she did not budge.
The greatest queens, the slaughterers who toppled three continents, the revolutionaries who overturned myths—all were far from enough in her eyes.
Heroes who left only their names, those who survived amidst countless blood and legends.
No one was qualified to be her 'master'.
Thus, she finally hung her head.
There is no one in this world to walk with me.
In the end, my existence will disappear, sleeping alone forever.
...That’s what I thought.
I really thought it would end like that.
The next moment.
"I finally became a hero!"
Zkyung!!
Until she saw a man... no, a master who perfectly fit her eyes, her heart, and her entire being, appear.
The moment she discovered him, the center of her being, which had been like a formless soul, surged hotly.
As if her inner self, made of metal, were melting, something hot beat like a heart.
Thump-thump.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It was a sensation she was experiencing for the first time.
Without knowing why, her... no, her 'heart' was pounding as if it would burst.
The longing to wake up, the impulse to connect, and even the desire for him to 'wield' me.
It’s definitely not because that man is insanely my type that I’ve lost my mind.
It’s just... um, yeah!
He looked like he had talent.
So, since I was bored, I decided to let him be my master for the first time.
...The fact that I wanted him to use me roughly if possible was just a bonus.
It was truly... a dagger covered in pitch black from blade to hilt.
It was so dark that even if light touched it, it wouldn't reflect, and its surface gave off an eerie aura like a shadow breathing under the night sky.
The size was about that of a kitchen knife.
But the weight was unbelievably light, and the moment I held it in my hand.
The grip was so familiar, as if it had been by my side for a long time, that the sensation of touching it for the first time was blurred.
But it was strange.
It felt like this dagger wasn't just 'held', but something had found my hand and settled in on its own.
As if the inside of my palm were its home, it clung to me without even a tremor, showing no intention of letting go.
In the end, I stopped eating, and feeling that something was strange, I carefully held the dagger out to my master.
"Uh... this looks like a Soul Weapon, doesn't it?"
"Soul Weapon? What is that?"
"Simply put, they are weapons that created legends alongside historical figures. Literally 'weapons imbued with souls'. They have immense power, and even have emotions."
At those words, I glanced down at my hand.
The dagger stuck to my hand no longer looked like just a piece of iron.
Even while staying still, it had presence. It felt as if it were alive.
"Their value is also enormous. Even if it depends on the grade, even the lowest grade easily exceeds hundreds of millions of won."
"Hun, hun, hun, hundreds of millions of won?!"
But the moment I heard that price, my mind literally went blank.
I couldn't see the food, my master, or the dagger in front of me.
A feeling of my heart sinking.
Why is such an absurdly expensive item here?
Why on earth is it stuck to my hand, and so firmly that it won't even fall off?
I reflexively jumped up from my seat.
"Master! I'll go to the equipment room upstairs!"
"Why there?"
"That's where they keep hero equipment and stuff! Someone must have lost it there!"
As soon as I finished those words, I turned my body.
But.
"...Uh, uh?"
My arm... wouldn't move.
No, to be precise, the sword wouldn't move, and my entire arm connected to the sword was frozen as if nailed to the air.
It wasn't 'caught' by something, it felt like it was 'pinned' to the space itself.
I was flustered and shook the sword hard. Again, and again, I put strength into my entire arm.
Even so, the dagger didn't budge.
This wasn't a physical problem.
It was a power of a completely different law, to the point where I could vaguely feel a sense of supernatural ability.
"Master! My arm won't move!"
Hearing my scream, Master Baek Seungha approached.
She looked at my arm, stared intently at the black dagger, and soon tilted her head as if puzzled.
"Hyunwoo. That... it looks like it's crying because of you?"
"......Yes?"
Only then did I reflexively look down at the sword.
At first, I thought it was nonsense.
A weapon crying.
A sword with emotions.
That’s just a story from a fairy tale or a comic book, right?
But really.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
From the black dagger, transparent water droplets were dripping down, wetting my hand.
It was a very quiet and steady crying, as if sadness and resentment were mixed together.
"It's really... crying?"
"Yeah, you brat. Just looking at it, it accepted you as its master, but you keep trying to detach it, so it's heartbroken."
The reason it kept clinging to my hand and wouldn't fall off suddenly made sense.
This wasn't just a simple supernatural effect... it was the heart of this weapon, not wanting to be abandoned.
Once I realized that, a feeling of apology welled up for some reason.
Suddenly, the thought that it was crying because of me made me feel like I was doing something really bad if I left this quietly crying weapon behind.
Just then, Master approached my side and tapped my shoulder, saying.
Whisper, whisper.
"Since it's come to this, just take it."
"What?! But this Soul Weapon... you said it costs at least hundreds of millions of won?!"
"Yeah, it exceeds hundreds of millions. But do you think a Soul Weapon immediately acknowledges its master just because you bought it with money?"
Master shook her head and continued.
"Some of them shut down their functions entirely if they don't like their master. They just become house decorations. But this one is crying in your hand right now~."
Then, a strange analogy followed.
"Returning this to the shop right now is... no different from selling your wife to a brothel telling her to go earn money?"
I lost my words for a moment.
...The explanation is unnecessarily lewd, but strangely, it was persuasive.
If a weapon has emotions, and if it really chose me, forcibly handing it over to someone else felt like doing something really mean.
And honestly... if I'm going to work as a hero, I need some kind of weapon anyway.
"...Then, shall I just keep it?"
"Yeah, kid. It's a blessing that rolled in."
As I said that, the water droplets flowing from the dagger stopped.
It stopped crying.
I carefully whispered.
"...You're happy with that too, right?"
Of course, the weapon didn't say anything.
However, for some reason, there was an aura being conveyed.
So, not knowing where the head was, I carefully stroked the blade.
Then.
Flow, flow, flow, flow.
This time, without fail, liquid flowed down like a dam bursting.
But this time, something... the feeling was different.
A texture clearly different from the transparent water droplets that flowed at first.
More sticky, and strangely warm.
"Is it... tears of joy?"
Well, it seems it shed 'snot' instead of tears of joy anyway.