I look around.
I’ve been pulled into a shrine deep in the forest. The building’s a wreck—moss-covered, worn down by the weather, clearly abandoned.
I step toward the main hall. It’s an impressive structure, tall enough that I have to tilt my head back to see the roof.
It must have been grand once. Why let sothing like this rot?
Then again, all that thrives must wither, they say. Nothing lasts forever.
At this point, no one’s gonna mind wearing shoes inside.
I wander the worship hall, where shafts of light pierce through holes in the rotten wooden roof.
Then sothing catches my eye—a lone sword, enshrined.
I recognize it. The sa sword Kuro Kemurishima wielded.
It’s stuck, unsheathed, in the altar, daring to pull it free.
I slip one hand into my pocket and stroke my chin with the other, sizing up the blade.
The tal gleams, reflecting a small figure—watching .
I speak to the sword.
“Send back.”
...Eh?
“I want to go back. Right now.”
You sensed ...? Well, aren’t you sothing else. No wonder you call yourself the pinnacle of martial arts.
“I’m leaving. No need for chit-chat.”
Wait. Just listen. Hear out—
“No thanks.”
Hey! I waited for you, looking all pull--out-of-here! Where’s your manners, Ikaku Akamuro?
Smoke starts curling from the blade embedded in the altar. The sll of burning fills the air.
Damn it. This sword smokes. I hate it.
The smoke thickens, swallowing everything around .
Shadows rise. Figures form and fall under the sword’s ruthless swings.
Blood splatters. Corpses pile up.
Just as the slaughter seems to end, another swordsman appears, claiming the blade.
The carnage reignites—screams, grudges, pain, curses—an endless storm of hatred.
I grant power to those who seek it. Great power. I’ve fulfilled countless promises.
Many have fought over . Always, I rest in the hands of a swordsman—one strong enough to wield .
With , a swordsman pushes harder, trains harder. When soone stronger appears, I simply change hands.
“You’re fickle. Aren’t you the one controlling the swordsn?”
Heh heh heh… Who can say? When it cos to power, whether one has free will is trivial. Kuro Kemurishima was decent, but falling to soone without a sword…? That ans you’re stronger.
So, prove it. Show your worth.
The sword spews thick smoke. Cracks in its blade pulse with heat—that’s the source.
From the haze, an armored warrior steps forward.
“There’s a misunderstanding.”
Hmm? A misunderstanding?
“I don’t want your power.”
Scared? Too bad. I’m already interested.
“You’re a pushy salesman. I said no.”
Why not? You should want power. Avenger. Your dark fla resonates with , guided you here.
“Why do all you magical tools peek inside minds?”
Heh heh heh. You can’t hide from . Now, show your power.
“Let be clear. First, I don’t want you. Second, after seeing what you do, I still don’t want you. And third, hearing there’s a catch, I want you even less.”
Guh! Why won’t you want ?! You haven’t even seen my true power!
“Don’t you just make smoke?”
Well... I can do other things too!
“Oh? Like what?”
The smoke I produce is special. My wielder controls it like their own limbs. They can sense through it, feel their surroundings as if it’s an extension of themselves!
“Anything else?”
Uh... if you use it in a car, you can die from carbon monoxide poisoning.
“And?”
And?! It’s great for smoking food—jerky, you know. Oh! And while it smokes, the blade heats up. You can cook at on it!
“So you just make smoke.”
N-no, that’s not— Hey! Are you even listening?!
“You fail. With such trashy power, how do you think you can control a human’s mind? You disgrace magical tools. Know your place. Find soone else.”
Gnnnh! How dare you! Hah!
The sword pulls free, spinning behind . I track it with my eyes.
A girl, seemingly from nowhere, catches it and brandishes the blade.
She’s tiny—144 centiters tall. The tips of her white hair glow red-hot. Her eyes burn with sadistic fire.
It’s a child in a white and red shrine maiden outfit.
“My na is Ashbrand. A thousand years ago, when I cut down a great demon, its burning blood cursed my blade. The breath of a fire monster lives within . And yet… you’ve been rude the whole ti! For making a fool of the Great Ashbrand—”
“Smoky Brat, I’ll say this once.”
“S-Smoky Brat?!”
“If you want that blade intact, send back now.”
“Hah! ‘Intact,’ you say? Bold words, Ikaku Akamuro.”
I stride up, grab the smoky sword she holds, and crush it in my grip.
“Gyaaaaah?!”
“I said once.”
“N-not that it matters! I’m a demon sword! Being broken is nothing. Watch this!”
The shattered blade restores itself. The brat swings it, pride on her face.
I grab and crush it again.
“Waaah! Stop the grab-and-squeeze!”
She places her hands over the fragnts, regenerating them with what looks like telekinesis.
“It’s nothing…! Stop! Stop the grab-and-squeeze! Aaaah!”
Once restored, she bolts.
“Phew. If I get this far... He’s chasing ?! Stop! Don’t co closer! You’re scary! Chasing silent like that! Stop the grab-and-squeeze! Please! Gyaaaaah!”
Then she vanishes in a puff of smoke. No chasing her now.
Just then, a presence looms behind .
The brat’s back, panting, sword ready.
“Co any closer and I’ll stab you! Grrrrr!”
She’s trying to scare like a frightened kitten.
“Damn it. Why can this human act free in my world? Usually, when I pull soone here, I control their mind completely...”
“Smoky Brat, giving up yet?”
“It’s Ashbrand!”
“Whatever.”
“Tch... Fine. If you don’t want my power, I don’t care. Don’t co crying later.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
“No need to swear... Hmph. Then you don’t have to show your power.”
“So... you’ll send back?”
“However! You’ll atone for making misunderstand.”
“Hah. Her too?”
“Hey! I can hear you! Don’t like your attitude either!”
I straighten my tie, stand tall, and clear my throat. “My apologies. I was out of line.”
“Eh... even being honest now... Hmph. Trying to win over with that little personality crack? Clever for once!”
“That wasn’t my plan.”
“In light of your attitude, I’ll forgive you for making misunderstand.”
My cri sohow just got lighter.
“So, how do I get back from this fine shrine?”
“Oh, simple. Win. Defeat , and I’ll send you back.”
“I’m surprised. That actually sounds easy.”
“Hey! That’s rude! Apologize!”
Smoky Brat’s face flas bright red as she jumps up and down.
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