Dedicated Weapon (2): The Souls' Competition
"Ah~ Hurry up and throw it already!"
"What a spineless young man."
These guys… what the hell are they? They do seem interested in my bloodstone, at least…
Let's make the weapon first.
I needed to figure out what they were actually doing. With a light arc, the bloodstone landed on the magic circle. Just like with the other students, the circle flared with light and the bloodstone began to transform.
"It's a sword!"
"Nice!"
"Hey! If it's a blade, it's obviously my turn!"
"Can't I have it?"
"Get lost!"
"Kyaaa~"
And just like that, it was spoiled that my weapon would be a sword. Were these souls the ones actually forging the bloodstones into weapons?
Even excluding the crowd swarming my own weapon, dozens more lingered a short distance away. Given the size of this hall, there could easily be over a hundred souls here in total.
"Tsk, it should've been a ranged weapon."
"Why isn't it a staff?"
"No… where's the dagger?! Are you ignoring us thieves?"
"A dagger is still a sword. Why are you even here?"
"Those guys said the short one shouldn't come and chased me off."
The souls farther away licked their lips or stared with envy at the weapon gradually taking shape and the spirits clustered around it.
"…Huh? Is that guy looking at us right now?"
I had been observing them like someone witnessing a mystery when one of them met my eyes, tilted his head, and spoke. The single sentence froze every action in the room as if time itself had stopped.
With an eerie creak, every head in the chamber swiveled toward me.
Goosebumps exploded across my skin. On pure instinct I shut off my spiritual eyes.
The moment I did, the space fell deathly quiet, the souls vanishing like they had evaporated. I was just beginning to feel relieved when—
"What the hell? Why is this happening?"
For some reason my dedicated weapon, which should have finished forming by now, had stopped dead in the middle of its transformation. It wasn't completely frozen; it would start to move, then stop, then try again only to halt once more. It looked almost like…
"Is it stuck?"
"This isn't a machine error or anything, but… damn, it really does look that way."
I was thinking the exact same thing. Why did it keep starting to change shape only to stop again? What was going on? The behavior of those souls I'd glimpsed at the end kept nagging at me, so I cautiously reactivated my spiritual eyes.
"Hey, hey! That guy's trying to move it again!"
"Ugh! It's so heavy!"
"But is this really okay?"
"He saw us! No way we're giving him the weapon before we confirm everything!"
So they were the culprits. Every last one of them was clinging to the bloodstone, pouring their strength into it like they were trying to compress it, forcibly halting the transformation.
As I stared at the ridiculous scene with a blank face, I felt a subtle gaze from the side. I shifted my eyes and found the soul who had met my gaze earlier now standing right beside me, studying me intently.
"Hello?"
"What exactly are you all doing right now?"
"Wow, he really can see us. And since he answered, I guess he can hear us too?"
When I nodded, he began circling me with open fascination.
"Hey! Hurry up and say something! We're dying over here!"
"I'm gonna have muscle pain tomorrow…"
"Since when do ghosts get muscle pain?"
"I'm delicate, okay!"
"It's bulging out on that side! Block it properly!"
As I watched their absurd struggle, the soul beside me laughed with clear amusement.
"What do you think? Of the masterpiece you created?"
"I created it?"
"To be precise, we acted on our own… but this only happened because the possibility existed that you could see us."
What a joke. They did whatever they wanted and then dragged my existence into it to justify their actions. And the one actually suffering for it was me.
"The reason we're doing this is simple. We want you to choose which soul among us will dwell in your weapon."
"Dwell in the weapon…?"
"You wouldn't know this, but one of us enters every weapon obtained here. As the user grows stronger, the soul inside the weapon grows stronger too, and the weapon's performance rises along with it."
Good grief. I had no idea such a setting existed. I'd wondered why this place was called the Tomb of Souls, but now it made perfect sense. No name could possibly fit better.
So they're all souls, then.
No wonder their outfits were all so different.
The soul beside me smiled at my obvious interest in this new information and gestured toward the ones clinging to my weapon.
"The ones stuck to your weapon right now are the souls who want to inhabit it. They were all skilled swordsmen in life, so any of them would be a huge help to you."
One of the souls attached to the bloodstone immediately looked at me and spoke as if she'd been waiting for the cue.
"Hey… if you pick me, I'll teach you how to win even if you're fighting a hundred people at once. I'm really strong, okay? Like, insanely strong!"
"This bitch is cutting in line!"
"Junior? Choose me and I'll teach you the sword that split an island! With enough talent you could even cleave the sky…"
"You couldn't even do it yourself. Kid, pick me. I'll guide you to the realm of Sword and Body as One."
They suddenly launched into self-promotion, each one passionately advertising themselves. Their fervor was so intense it left me feeling flustered instead.
Why were they going this far? Even with a lot of people here, considering how many new students enrolled, it didn't seem necessary to cause this much chaos.
"You're thinking, 'There must be plenty of other people, so why are they making such a fuss over me…?' aren't you?"
The words came as if he'd read my mind. I flinched.
What? Could they actually read thoughts…?
"You're the type whose thoughts show clearly on your face. Didn't you know?"
I really didn't…
After all, I hadn't been able to meet and talk with people very often. The only ones I ever conversed with were the hospital nurses and doctors.
"The reason they're clinging to you is simple. You possess tremendous potential."
Potential?
"From what the professor said earlier, creating a weapon here requires dripping blood onto a bloodstone—a stone containing each person's information—placed on the magic circle. The circle reads that information along with the traces of mana in the blood to forge the weapon. In the process, we learn exactly how outstanding the person is and what kind of potential they hold."
That's possible? Must be because they're ghosts.
"Naturally, we want people with greater potential. The young ones from the Freya family and the Ainstro family earlier are good examples. As for you… well, I don't need to explain, do I? You're top quality."
The soul clapped as though congratulating me. But he wasn't finished.
"On top of that, you can see us and hear our voices. You can actually talk with us. Where's a bigger merit than that?"
True. Once they entered a weapon, they wouldn't be able to converse with anyone else. It would be lonely. When I thought about it that way, their reaction made sense.
"Old man! Your sword won't even help that kid, so why did you come out? You said he needs to learn some special mental technique!"
"Hmph. I can just make him learn it step by step. Since we'll be visible and audible to him anyway, it won't be difficult."
"Whoa, you're right? Old man, you're a genius?"
Thud, thud, thud.
Suddenly the crowd of souls that had been watching from behind came rushing forward in a wave.
"Wait!! Then we get to compete too!"
"That's right! We have the right to try!"
"You guys said you weren't participating!"
"That was because our power is difficult to handle properly and requires special conditions! But if he can see us, everything changes! We can teach him directly!"
"You old fart! This is all because of you!"
"Ahem. It's your fault for speaking first."
The number of souls had doubled, making the space far noisier and more chaotic than before.
I had to choose just one of them? Their overwhelming enthusiasm was starting to make me dizzy when, in the corner of my vision, I noticed one soul quietly leaning against the wall, completely different from the rest.
That soul is…
She wasn't staring at the scene with envy like the others, nor was she chatting with anyone hoping for this moment to end. She seemed entirely detached, as if existing in a completely different space. That utter lack of interest actually drew my attention.
Pure white hair. Eyes like glowing red jewels. A breathtaking beauty that pulled people in, paired with elegant black clothing that carried an antique grace.
Why is she here?!
I might not know the other souls in this place, but her—I knew her very well.
The strongest raid boss in New World Academy history.
A being of such bizarre power that it sometimes felt like the game had been created just to defeat her.
The player slayer who had personally taught everyone what a bloodbath truly meant.
A legend that had required every alliance to unite, and even then they had barely managed to kill her once.
The introduction that described her carried these words:
A disaster born of the heavens,
a woman who split the world asunder.
With reverence for the myth left behind,
we shall call her the Sword God.
Yet every player who had been personally cut down by her gave her a different name in unison.
Overwhelming martial prowess and an arrogant tone. A colossal charisma that dominated the crowd even while she simply stood there. A being who feared not even the heavens themselves.
The Heavenly Demon.