The Sword's Temptation

An Ego Sword.

A blade imbued with a will of its own — a miracle permitted only to a chosen few among blacksmiths. Even the most gifted smiths typically go their entire lives without ever forging one. And should they succeed, their name is carved into legend as a craftsman of myth.

And right now, in a dim and lightless cellar, one of the handful of Ego Swords on the entire continent was gripped in my hand — moaning.

Swooooosh—

Fwaaah—

Fuck.

I'd been wrestling with this sword in the cellar for two hours already. I'd poured mana into it without pause, suppressing the demonic energy, and the miasma leaking from the blade had weakened somewhat — but the filthy noises coming out of it had gotten worse in inverse proportion.

No matter how I looked at it, this was absurd. This was an Ego Sword?

I frowned down at the pitch-black blade trembling in my grip, and Lucy's cry carried all the way into the cellar.

"Master! Are you unharmed!?"

"I'm fine! Whatever you do, do not come in here!"

"But—"

"That's an order!"

I shouted at Lucy, who was still fidgeting anxiously beyond the door. I couldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠guarantee her safety in the storm of demonic energy raging through the cellar. The blade housed such potent miasma that its resistance showed no sign of letting up.

I focused again and poured more mana in. The thing spewed even more demonic energy, resisting with renewed ferocity.

......

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

A curse slipped through my barely parted lips. Maybe I should just destroy it right now. Two hours of holding onto this thing, and it wasn't the demonic energy that was driving me insane — it was the moaning.

Then a single word from the Heavenly Demon Sword's rambling lodged itself in my mind.

Wait. Precious place?

To claim an Ego Sword, you had to fill its core with your own mana and earn the blade's recognition. Could "precious place" mean the core?

I immediately sent mana flowing through to check, and felt something like a dense, solid mass of energy inside the blade.

A trembling, panicked voice rang out. Oho. So that's the core.

The corner of my mouth curled up, and I attempted Sound Transmission toward the black sword in my hand.

Hey. Can you hear me?

Yeah.

The Heavenly Demon Sword recoiled in shock and asked me back. As I thought. Sound Transmission let me converse with an Ego Sword.

I continued in a low, even tone.

How I did it is none of your business. From this moment on, I'm going to pour my mana into your core. I'd recommend surrendering quietly while you still can.

Hmph. Foul-mouthed, aren't you. Looks like you still need some training.

Yeah, yeah. Do your worst.

A frantic cry. I ignored the fierce resistance and drove my mana deep, all the way to the root.

Hwooooook—!

For an instant, silence settled over the racket in my head. Then the blade arched like a bow, and demonic energy erupted from the core in a convulsive burst.

Fwaah—

Damn. What a pain.

Had the demonic energy been concentrated in the core? The concentration was so thick I could smell it with every breath. And as I fought the miasma wrapping around my entire body, something flowed into my mind through the sword.

Saaaaah—

Huh? What is this?

Darkness filled my vision as if a black curtain had been drawn across it. And after a moment, an unfamiliar landscape unfolded before my eyes.

Was the Heavenly Demon Sword showing me its memories? No — more precisely, these seemed to be the memories of its first wielder, the knight-commander. I was wearing plate armor as if I'd become the knight-commander ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of some viscount's house, and a blood-soaked sword was gripped in my right hand.

Then a sticky, clinging voice echoed through my mind.

What kind of cheap trick is this.

The Heavenly Demon Sword tempted me in a coquettish voice. So this bitch was throwing a tantrum. Did she really think she could shake my mind with this pathetic seduction?

I snorted.

Listen. This kind of garbage isn't going to corrupt me. Cut the crap before I smash you to pieces right here.

The Heavenly Demon Sword ignored me completely, parroting the same corruption attempt over and over. No ears because it's a sword, I guess. Talking wasn't going to work.

I need to hurry. My real body is being slowly consumed by demonic energy as we speak. I have to seize this sword, and fast.

My expression hardened as I tightened my grip. I had to dump every last drop of mana I had into the core, overpower the demonic energy, and force this thing into submission. To pour everything in at once, I stacked my left hand over my right on the Heavenly Demon Sword's hilt.

Thud—

Shut up and watch.

After snapping at the Heavenly Demon Sword picking fights in my head, I checked the sensations in my body.

Just as I thought.

The landscape I could see was inside the memory the Heavenly Demon Sword had conjured — but the mana flowing through my body was unmistakably mine. Good. That meant I could use my Authority.

I immediately invoked the Authority of the Invisible Hand, picturing dozens of hands seizing the Heavenly Demon Sword.

Wooooong—

Dozens of transparent hands wrapped roughly around the blade, and the Heavenly Demon Sword's voice turned flustered. Had she sensed something was off? Too late either way.

Think about it simply. If I hold the sword with one hand, that's one channel for mana to flow from me into the blade. Hold it with two hands, and that's two channels. It wouldn't map that cleanly in practice, but a similar correlation should hold.

In that case — what happens if I dump mana through dozens of channels all at once?

Swooooosh—

None of your business. Just stay still and take my mana. I'll make you feel good in no time.

Hey. Heavenly Demon Sword.

A flat, decisive declaration. A silent scream erupted immediately after.

With dozens of hands clamped tight around the blade, I slammed every last drop of the vast mana I'd gained upon awakening as Absolute Monarch into the sword.

Fwaaaaaah—!

The blade shuddered violently. Mana cascaded like a waterfall toward the core. Even after two hours of pouring mana without rest, I still had more left than I'd expected. I poured it into the Heavenly Demon Sword's core through the ten-lane highway my countless arms had built.

Zuuuung—

Ugh, so loud.

Was this thing actually a sword?

As the noisy moans burst out, I focused everything I had and steadily overpowered the demonic energy the Heavenly Demon Sword had been holding. As time passed, the blade's trembling grew more intense, and I felt something damp.

Sweat?

Well, I'd used a considerable amount of mana. Sweaty palms weren't surprising. I didn't let up, pressing on with the work.

About ten minutes passed, by my sense of it.

Sssssss...

Perhaps because I'd succeeded in suppressing the demonic energy, the memory the Heavenly Demon Sword had been showing me faded like mist in the wind. I watched the scenery gradually return to the weapon shop's cellar and let out a breath of relief.

It worked.

The demonic energy that had filled the cellar was gone as well. Inside the now-quiet cellar, I examined the Heavenly Demon Sword in my hand closely. From the hilt to the very tip of the blade, it was filled with my mana. In the parlance of aura-wielding knights, I had completely tamed the sword.

"What a... pain-in-the-ass sword."

How many hours had I wasted because of this damned blade. It wasn't quite mana exhaustion, but I could feel the strength draining out of me. I was fighting the urge to just collapse onto the floor when a voice — far clearer than before — rang through my mind.

Coming to?

That's right.

She'd grasped the situation quickly. The Heavenly Demon Sword spoke to me in a voice that sounded faintly exhausted.

......

The way she phrased that sounded... a little off. Well. Regardless. With this, I'd succeeded in obtaining the Heavenly Demon Sword. A sword that, even in the original story, was best destroyed — and I'd claimed it. A deep sense of satisfaction welled up from the bottom of my chest.

I tightened my grip on the sword and said,

Yeah. You've killed a lot of people. From now on, I'll use you to save far more lives than you've taken.

The Heavenly Demon Sword, after all that moaning, was putting on airs now. I couldn't see a face or an expression, but I had the distinct impression she was smiling faintly.

Come to think of it. That voice sounded feminine. Did Ego Swords have genders? I'd have to look into that later.

The door burst open.

"Master!"

"Lucy."

"You're unharmed. I'm... I'm so glad..."

I was looking at the black sword in my hand, thinking about what came next, when Lucy threw the door open, rushed in, and threw herself into my arms. She must have been waiting the entire time outside the cellar as the demonic energy raged. Her whole body was soaked with sweat.

I gently stroked her back and whispered softly into her ear.

"I made you worry. But it's all right now."

"Master..."

"Come. Let's go home."

"Yes..."

Lucy nodded, her face flushed.

Had Dunkel and Hilda gone upstairs because they couldn't endure the demonic energy? They'd be worried too. I should go up and let them know.

Just as I was about to take a step with Lucy, the Heavenly Demon Sword addressed me in a grave tone.

Call me whatever you want. More importantly, what is it.

?

What was she going to say this time. I was vaguely suspicious, but I shook it off. She'd been seized by demonic energy and created a horrific massacre — but now she was a sword that would serve me. I should at least hear her out.

I listened. The Heavenly Demon Sword whispered.