Before the na Cinhard Beelze beca an existence that brought terror to any beings in Exgreia and the Forest of Nightmares was considered a fighting arena for those who had power and were aiming for the top, there was a tale about a weapon hidden beneath the ocean floor.
According to the story, it was a sword that could cut and burn at the sa ti. The sharpness of its blade depended on the user’s capabilities, and only those who had the power to use fire could wield this legendary weapon.
People who loved the way of the sword and powerful beings that had an affinity for fire tried to claim it and find out if the tale was true. However, due to the strong current of water and the sea monsters lurking beneath the darkness of the ocean, many had died searching for it.
After that, no one risked their lives locating this weapon, and the story remained a myth until that certain day.
"It shattered again," Cinhard sighed as he looked at the broken blade particles of his sword beneath his feet.
He was in the middle of a battle against several orcs when his sword exploded after he channeled his energy into it. So he had no choice but to kill his opponents by punching them to smithereens.
Then he looked at the man lying on one of the branches of the tree not far away from him.
"Hey! Arthur, you didn’t even help handle these bastards!" Cinhard yelled.
The man sat up and yawned as soon as he heard him.
"I’m not in the mood to butcher so ugly things, and besides, your fla itself is enough, isn’t it?" He replied, taking a glance at the hilt of the broken sword.
"You’re not suited to wield a weapon," the man added.
Then Cinhard contemplated for a mont. He wanted to fight with a sword, but not a single weapon managed to endure his flas. The mont he got excited after channeling his energy into them, they lted or crumbled into ashes.
"That looks like the case now; however, I still want to use a sword; maybe soday I’ll be able to find a material that can withstand the heat of my flas," he said while staring at the man’s lifeless eyes.
Afterward, Zeno stared at him for several seconds before he leaped down from the tree and turned around.
"I’ll be missing for several days; don’t co looking for ," he said and walked away.
Cinhard raised his hand while clenching his fingers, with the exception of the middle one.
"Even if you go kill yourself, it won’t bother the slightest, bastard!" he smirked.
Then, like Zeno had stated, he disappeared for days, and it beca weeks. However, the white-haired demon didn’t even show concern, while their associates were ntally troubled by the demon’s disappearance. In fact, they asked Cinhard to start looking for Zeno, but he rejected the idea.
"Don’t worry about him; dying is never a part of that man’s vocabulary," he said, confident that his friend was still in good shape.
A few months had passed, and the silver-haired demon returned alive with a slender stick in hand while Cinhard’s group was busy fending off the attacks coming from a horde of ghouls.
"Did you miss ?" He asked, grinning.
Cinhard glanced in Zeno’s direction before smashing the ghoul that approached him into the ground. After that, he destroyed its head by giving it a flaming punch. He then stood up and spoke.
"You wish! Help us eradicate them," he ordered.
Despite their disadvantage in numbers, Cinhard remained calm. However, their enemies were not decreasing. Even though they had already managed to kill a lot, they kept coming at them.
But the man’s reply made him stare at him with a clueless expression.
"They’re all yours! Here! Catch it!" He shouted.
Then he threw the stick from afar towards Cinhard. It killed a few dozen ghouls as they were caught in the path where the thing flew.
Even without proper knowledge regarding the black object, the white-haired demon jumped and caught it in mid-air.
’A cane?’ He thought.
Then Zeno yelled one more ti.
"Channel your energy into it!" He said, smiling.
Cinhard nodded as he heard his friend’s words, and then, the mont he did, the battle was drawn to an end.
. . . . .
Blue flas erged from the shaft of the cane before a white line that curved from its handle down to its tip ford a transluscent burning blade.
"I-It’s... I-It’s the Demon King’s sword!" The goblin shaman stuttered while pointing at the object that the woman was holding.
anwhile, a smile curled on Cinn’s lips as she examined the sword. The only weapon that his father cherished so much. She observed its lining and even raised it several inches away from her face to have a proper look at it.
"The blade’s edges." She paused for a mont and slid her hand into the sword’s surface and felt its burning sharpness.
"It’s beautiful!" The shaman exclaid, amazed by the fact that the weapon of the late Demon King was right before his eyes.
"It resembled a glass, even the handle. You’re right, its beauty is irresistible,’ she uttered, affirming the goblin’s statent.
’But how co this thing was on his hands?’ She thought
All this while, she believed that the sword was in the empire’s custody and that obtaining it was an impossible feat for the current her.
Then she tried recalling what Aichelle had said about the man, his na, and his relationship with his father. However, she failed to find an answer to her own query.
Questions regarding Zeno’s existence kept piling up on her head. The man beca more mysterious as the days went by.
Though, despite all of this, she couldn’t hide the joy she was feeling at the mont. Just the thought of being able to wield her father’s sword made her smile reach her ears.
Then, as she stopped channeling her energy into the weapon, it reverted back to its default form. Its length was perfect for her height.
The next second, she was about to bid farewell to the goblin when a portal appeared behind her and Aichelle’s head poked out of it.
"Mistress! At long last, I found you. Get in, quick! Lux is on his way ho," she said before dragging Cinn inside the curtain of darkness.
The goblin shaman was left in there, blinking while contemplating the things that transpired in front of him.
"S-She v-vanished," he blurted out.
. . . . .
The silver-haired demon stared at the battleground as the rest of the ghouls disappeared into oblivion.
"This is pretty good; even if I send a large sum of my energy, it’s still in one piece," Cinhard said while laughing.
"Does it have a na? If it doesn’t, then I’ll call it Transluscent Inferno," he added, obsessed with his newfound weapon.
"His naming sense is terrible," Zeno uttered.
Then he shook his head as he watched Cinhard display his unprecedented sword skills, which cleared the battlegrounds. Ghouls’ bodies were set ablaze the mont the burning blade touched their skin and soon turned into a pile of ashes.
"Hmnn, but his swings are precise and on point," Zeno comnted, then he continued. "Maybe those tireso hours spent searching for that thing are not that worthless."
Afterward, he turned around to leave; he was too tired to stay and wait just to hear Cinhard’s bragging. Then, as he walked away, he recalled the night when he found the weapon.
. . . . .
Sowhere, in the middle of the ocean, a man was walking on the surface of the water as if it were a piece of land. The next second, he halted on his steps and looked beneath him.
"This should be the place," he uttered.
But as soon as he raised his hand, a huge splash of water ca underneath his feet, and a huge mouth prisoned with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth swallowed him whole.
The sea monster even rose in the air; it had a serpentine body with the head of a fish. Its eyes were glowing yellow, like the moon above the sky.
Satisfied with its al, the monster prepared to dive back into the ocean. However, it was split in half as soon as a man holding a jet-black scythe forced his way through its mouth. The water turned crimson as the creature’s body fell into it before sinking bit by bit.
"Sea monster here, sea monster there, sea monster everywhere. Damn it! I hate oceans!" The silver-haired man complained.
Afterward, the scythe on his hand transford into a small cube that rested on his palm while the dice dangling on his left ear spun, and its surface, with a single skull, glowed a white hue. Then he extended his arm in front of him and closed his eyes.
"Co, Ezreil," he whispered.
The next second, an obsidian shade of black letters erged on his right wrist, bearing the na he uttered in silence.
Then the calmness of the water broke as a ripple appeared. In every second that passed, it got wider, and soon after, the surface of the ocean started to vibrate.
This scene continued for a couple of minutes and died down. Everything went back to normal, like nothing happened, as soon as a black, slender object flew out of the water and stopped on the man’s hand.
"At last, I can return to sleep," he uttered upon opening his eyes and seeing the cane.
Beads of sweat were present on his forehead as he managed to return to the shore. However, the mont he stepped into the grains of sand, he fell on his knees and dropped to the ground.
’Using a Curse really is tiring,’ he thought.
And his mind went blank as his consciousness drifted away.
. . . . .
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