I crouched in front of her, one knee on the floor. "So," I said, eyeing the little ball of white fluff, "what exactly does my majestic Sacha eat?"
Sacha tilted her head, her blue eyes gleaming like polished frost. For a mont, she just stared at . Then—
Papa, her voice echoed in my head, soft and childlike. Sacha is hungry.
"Yeah? Hungry for what, exactly—hey!"
Before I could finish, she leaned forward and bit into my arm.
There was no pain, just a sudden, freezing drain that made my breath hitch. My mana poured out of , blue motes swirling toward her mouth as she fed.
It wasn’t much, maybe a fifth of my mana pool, but it was enough to make my vision flicker for a heartbeat.
When she finally let go, she looked pleased with herself.
{You just got eaten by a cat,} Bastard muttered, sowhere between amusent and pity.
’She’s feeding on my mana,’ I thought, flexing my fingers. The numbness faded fast, but the pull had been real.
{Cute,} Bastard said. {Let’s just hope she doesn’t develop a taste for souls.}
Sacha licked her paw delicately, tail swishing. Sacha likes Papa’s mana. It’s tasty.
I sighed. "Of course it is."
She gave a little yawn and padded in a lazy circle before curling up again, completely content.
"I’ve got to head out for a bit," I said, brushing her fur lightly. "Don’t destroy the room."
Papa leaving?
"Yeah. I’ll be back soon."
Okay, she said sweetly. Sacha will wait. Sacha loves Papa.
I chuckled under my breath and turned toward the door. "Yeah, yeah."
I’d barely taken a step when the air shifted.
A quiet hum filled the room. Blue light flared at the edge of my vision. I turned just in ti to see her dissolve into mist. Her entire body unraveled into threads of shimring azure mana, the air rippling with cold.
The light folded in on itself, twisting, solidifying, until a single shape hovered before .
A sword.
A long, elegant blade of translucent glass, faint blue veins pulsing faintly within. It radiated a cold, divine stillness that prickled against my skin. I reached out and wrapped my hand around the hilt. It was cool to the touch light, perfectly balanced, alive.
Then, as if in response, a black status window shimred into existence beside , letters burning across it in soft silver.
[Soul Armant Unlocked]
Na:Sacha Nekros
Race:Thanatiger
Form: Soul Armant — Glassblade (Thanatiger Manifestation)
Type: Adaptive Spirit Weapon
Rank: E
Affinities: Ice, Death
Bond Level: 1 — Nascent
Abilities:
Unbreakable Form: The Glassblade cannot be shattered or damaged by physical or magical ans below SS-rank.
Death Resonance: Channels Death mana with perfect efficiency, amplifying related arts and techniques by 100%.
Mana Conversion: Passively absorbs ambient mana or supplied energy, converting it into Ice mana and spells to assist the wielder.
Description:A Soul Armant born of your Thanatiger companion. The Glassblade embodies the serenity of death and the purity of frost, a mirror to the soul that wields it. Its strength and abilities evolve alongside the bond it shares with its master.
Note: The strength of the bond reflects the strength of the soul it’s bound to, the mightier the master, the greater the beast, and vice versa.
---
For a long while, I just stood there staring at the sword resting in my palm.
It wasn’t like any weapon I’d ever seen. The glass wasn’t glass at all, it pulsed faintly, veins of blue mana threading through it like living blood. The light shimred in the air around it, almost gentle. Like it was breathing.
I didn’t need the status window to tell what it was. I could feel her.
Sacha.
The mont I thought her na, the sword vibrated softly in my hand, a lodic hum that felt suspiciously like a purr.
{Well, that’s new,} Bastard said, his tone cautious, which for him was saying sothing. {I was expecting a beast, not a blade straight out of a god’s armory.}
I turned the weapon over, the glow reflecting against my fingers. "Unbreakable... full resonance with death mana... and she can convert raw mana into ice spells."
{Hate to say it, but that’s nasty. You’ve got a legendary-grade spirit, Sebastian.}
"I know."
But I couldn’t bring myself to feel proud. My stomach twisted instead, the faint ache of worry crawling up my throat.
Because this, this thing in my hand wasn’t just a weapon.
It was her.
I ran my thumb along the blade’s smooth surface, and it felt warm. Not like tal. Not like magic. Like skin.
The thought of swinging her, of clashing her against steel, of breaking her—
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
{Don’t tell you’re hesitating.} Bastard’s voice had a smirk in it, though it was faint. {She’s a soul beast, not porcelain. She won’t shatter unless you do.}
"I know that," I said quietly. "Still..."
The sword pulsed once in my hand.
Then, a small voice echoed in my mind soft, childlike, and warm.
Papa’s sad?
I froze. "Sacha?"
Mm! The voice chirped. Papa’s holding Sacha too tight.
I looked down. Sure enough, my grip on the sword was white-knuckled. "Ah. Sorry."
The weapon pulsed again, softer this ti, as if forgiving .
Papa shouldn’t look so serious, she said. Papa’s scary when he frowns.
A quiet laugh slipped out of . "You think so?"
Mm! Papa’s face is all scrunchy.
"That’s called thinking."
Then Papa thinks too much!
I couldn’t help it, I laughed again, real this ti. The sound felt foreign in my chest, like sothing unused finally cracking open.
{Wonderful,} Bastard muttered. {Now she’s sassing you too. It’s hereditary.}
"Shut up," I said aloud.
Papa talking to the an voice again? Sacha asked, tone almost accusing.
"Oh, so you can hear him?" I said, amused.
Mm. an voice slls funny.
{Excuse ?} Bastard said flatly. {I sll divine.}
Slls like burnt bread, she added sweetly.
{...I retract all complints.}
I was grinning now, despite myself. I turned the blade again, watching how the blue light pulsed along its length in rhythm with my own heartbeat.
"Still," I said quietly, "I don’t think I can use you in a fight. If you get hurt—"
Papa’s silly.
That stopped . "Huh?"
Sacha’s strong! Sacha will protect Papa!
"I’m supposed to protect you," I murmured.
We protect each other! she said brightly, with so much certainty it made my chest tighten. That’s what families do, right?
I didn’t answer right away. My throat felt oddly tight.
"...Yeah," I said finally. "That’s exactly what families do."
The blade shimred faintly in response, a single warm pulse, almost like a heartbeat.
For a while, I just stood there, lost in the blue glow filling the room.
Even Bastard stayed quiet.
I turned the blade in my hand again, the blue light inside it pulsing faintly like veins under skin.
"Alright, Sacha," I said, crouching slightly and raising the sword. "Let’s see what you can do."
Do? she echoed, curious.
"Channel your ice mana," I said. "Just a little. Don’t go freezing the whole room."
Heehee... okay! Get ready Papa.
The air changed instantly.
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