“And then, and then— He had this look of utter anguish on his face, and said he was worried about me! Oh, he has such an unbelievably golden heart! ♡”
“Oh my! I’m envious! Hey Crow, I want you to feel that way about me too!”
Yes, hello. Crow in question here. I was sandwiched between the silver-haired girl Vita and the robed beauty (???) Hypno as we trudged our way down a corridor at the division headquarters. We passed members of the staff along the way, who shot envious glances at us. How nice of them.
“By the way, Hypno,” I said, “you look so much better than before.”
I mean, I’d thought the commander looked beautiful—uh, handsome?—before, but now that all the rough edges had been smoothed out, I was stunned.
“Well,” he (?) replied, “now that I’ve decided to be an upstanding member of society, I figured working on my appearance was a good place to start.”
“I see...”
Upstanding, huh? Which meant he wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to irregularities anymore, right? Such as, say, me and my curse?
“This way.”
Oh man, oh man...
I started walking down a set of stairs as Hypno instructed. Despite being the commander, he had personally waited at the door for me to arrive, and was now escorting me to his laboratory. How nice of him!
Wait, that’s not nice at all! I’m in some deep shit here! Underground, I have no escape! They’re gonna lock me up and interrogate the hell out of me!
My face retained its composure, but my brain did not.
Muramasa is a murderous sword. When it’s hungry, it takes over my body and goes berserk. Safe as putting your hand in a hive full of angry wasps. So if he wants to talk to me about it, that must mean... Crap, does he know about its true nature?!
My act was perfect. I was sure of it. No one should’ve noticed I was possessed. If there was any lore about the sword to be found in literature, however, I was screwed six ways from Sunday.
I think a bunch of books were lost in the chaos a thousand years ago, but some survived, so I mean... But wait, based on its name, Muramasa comes from somewhere in the far east, right? Like, what was it, Jepan? Japon? Anyway, it was an island country, which made escaping the aetherborn difficult. I hear just about everyone died. So their books probably didn’t survive. Yeah!
I tried to calm myself down somehow. Okay. If they knew Muramasa was dangerous, they’d stay away from me as its wielder. But nope, Hypno’s just happily pulling me along by the hand. There’s no way he knows anything! No way!
“Here we are! My lab. Have a seat on that couch over there. Oh, and put Muramasa on the desk, please.”
“Understood,” I said, putting the sword down as instructed.
Hypno stared intently at Muramasa, muttering “Huh” as he poked and prodded it. He showed no signs of fear at all.
I knew it! He doesn’t know anything! I’m a master of deception! Ha ha ha!
“So this is Muramasa, the murderous cursed blade. It looks so cool!”
Ha ha... Ha?! Did he just call it a murderous cursed blade?!
“You want to touch Crow’s sword too, Vita?” Hypno asked. “We don’t get a chance like this every day, so perhaps we could remove it from its scabbard.”
“Wow! It’s so scary and dark! Sharp too!” the young girl exclaimed in awe.
Hey! Don’t make her touch it!
What kind of maniac gets all touchy-feely with a sword they know to be cursed and murderous?!
“All right, I’m satisfied,” Hypno said, straightening himself and looking right at me. “Now, Crow...”
Woe is me, I quietly thought to myself. They know about Muramasa’s true nature. It’s over.
As a researcher and a commander, surely he had easy access to valuable, ancient writings. Muramasa must have been mentioned somewhere. He must’ve known I was possessed.
Execution time.
“Crow...”
Ha ha, oh man, he’s staring at me. Am I a live test subject? I am, aren’t I?
It’d explain why he was acting so friendly with me. All calculated so I’d be a willing participant in an experiment.
I guess it beats being executed. Wait, no, I don’t want to be executed or experimented on! Iris, save meee!
I was about ready to drop the facade and start screaming and crying when Hypno took my hand in his.
Huh?
“Incredible!” he exclaimed. “There’s no mistaking it. You’re the greatest myth conqueror since the captain of the magus knights!”
“Myth...conqueror?” I asked, confused.
Noticing my bewilderment, he pulled his hand back with an apology.
“Allow me to explain,” he continued. “The truth is, all aethereal arms bend their wielders’ wills. That includes, say, those we call holy blades, for instance.”
According to Hypno, all aethereal arms were inherently foul.
“Due to the effects of the aether that spread all across the world, weapons of legend became real. If a sword was said to produce fire, for instance, it became able to actually do so. Do you follow?”
“Yes...”
“But see, therein lies the problem,” he continued. “In folklore, a weapon and its wielder appear as a ‘set,’ so to speak. Meaning that people at the time, who were familiar with the myths and legends, would remember Excalibur as King Arthur’s sword. Or, say, Balmung as Siegfried’s sword.”
Oh, that makes sense, and— Wait.
“You understand, yes? Aethereal arms are a manifestation of people’s beliefs about them. This means that the wielder of an arm takes on the personality of its original owner.”
Uh, excuse me, what the actual hell?! That’s horrifying! You’re telling me people aren’t themselves when they wield those weapons?! That’s me! I’m people!
In short, it wasn’t the sword that was murderous. I was murderous!
“That’s why, as a rule, a magus knight isn’t allowed to wield more than one arm. That’s how twisted their mind can get,” he told me. “Also, you don’t want an evil person wielding a holy sword, for instance. If the new owner’s personality is too far removed from the original wielder’s, they’ll go mad and die.”
“Die?!” Holy shit! I mean, I wasn’t exactly a man of character, you know? It was probably a good idea for me to stay far, far away from holy blades. And with how gloomy I was, any weapons belonging to extroverted balls of sunshine were also no good. Not that I knew of any extroverted balls of sunshine in myths and legends, but you know.
“Which brings us to the main point,” he continued. “Legend has it that this sword is cursed, which means it’s dangerously corrupt. While it’s unclear who its original wielder was, anyone with a weak will who comes in contact with it will immediately turn into a bloodthirsty murderer. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the arm you wield is Muramasa. According to what scarce Japanese literature remains, this can be considered one of the most vicious cursed swords known to man. And with how foul it is, it should’ve turned you into a wicked madman, and yet...it didn’t.”
Hypno smiled at me—as did Vita, sitting next to him.
“Crow,” he said. “You saved us with your heartfelt words. A wicked man would have never suggested we should live righteously.”
“It’s true,” the young girl agreed. “If you really were a murderer, you would’ve killed me yesterday. I have no doubts you’re of sound mind.”
The two looked at me with trusting eyes and offered Muramasa back to me.
Hypno chuckled. “Besides, I felt such calm from the blade. It’s like an infant, sleeping peacefully. The other cursed weapon you brought us, the Dáinsleif, was also docile as a trained puppy.”
“Did you know that some arms have a personality of sorts, Crow?” Vita asked me. “When you touch them, you can tell how they feel by the aether emanating from them. Dangerous arms all give off a terrifying sense of bloodlust, but both of yours were serene. It’s like they’ve found their true wielder.”
Hypno had one last thing to say as I took the blade from their hands.
“There are those who truly make an arm theirs, and transcend even curses. Among the knights, we call them ‘myth conquerors.’ And you’re one of them, Crow!” Hypno said, beaming.
Vita also praised me. “I never expected one other than our captain to surface! You can even wield cursed swords with impunity!”
Mm-hmm. Except, you know, not true!
Muramasa’s just sleeping because it’s full! And Dáinsleif quieted down because I smacked it with Muramasa! I’m literally just cursed!
Not that I could tell them any of that.
“I see. I’m a myth conqueror!” I said instead, slapping a surprised look on my face.
And thus, on that day, through a series of misunderstandings by those around me, I was elevated to legendary status.
(Yeah—legendary trash!)