“Please! I’m begging you! Stop! Noooo!”
I was racing down the road to the village against my will, totally unaware that I was about to fight some jacked skeletal guy. My legs were swollen and sore, and I was wheezing, already completely out of breath, though I’d hardly been running more than a few minutes. Yet my feet kept going at an all-out sprint, speeding along like a hardy war veteran.
And in my hand was a deadly black blade.
“A-Are you doing this?! Is this your fault?!” I asked the sword. It was after I’d picked up the blade that my body had started doing its own thing, after all. What else could it have been? “What kinda weapon controls people?! Are you one of those aethereal arm things?! What do you think you’re doing to my body, dude?! Hey!”
My frantic cries went unanswered. I mean, of course they did. It’s not like swords have mouths or anything. But seeing how my feet were just doing their own thing, zooming along the shortest path to the village, it was clear the thing had a will of its own.
My body rushed past the village entrance at full speed, pointing the blade at the villagers, who all looked like they had their panties in a twist over some business or another.
“Whoa, hey! You’re not seriously gonna cut these people down, are you?!” I said to myself.
I felt some sort of alien intent form in my utterly horrified heart.
“HUNGRY. NEED TO CUT—EAT—SOULS!”
Yep, that confirmed it. That was definitely the will of the sword in my right hand.
“Wait wait wait, no! Are you actually cursed?! And you eat souls?! You’re seriously that vicious?! Ah, shit!”
Okay, yeah. That stupid-ass sword absolutely took the cake as one of the most dangerous aethereal arms out there, cursing its wielder and driving them crazy!
“EAT! SOULS! EAT!”
“Eat something healthier, dumbass!”
I tried to reason with it, but the thing would not stop complaining. It compelled me to lower my body into a thrusting stance and close in on the villagers.
Oh. Oh no. If I cut someone down like this... If people figure out I’m cursed with this thing, it’s game over! Bad end! Off with my head! Please, anything but that!
All I wanted was an ordinary life. You know, with a substantial amount of money and a moderately attractive girlfriend, living in a land without any aetherborn, just chilling in peace! Perfectly normal.
Hard pass on the execution ending!
“Stop this! Now!” I yelled, straining with every last bit of strength I had to stop my body from committing murder. My scream was so desperate that it echoed throughout the whole village.
I struggled in vain, however. My body rushed toward the villagers, unstoppable, under the sword’s thrall.
Nooo!
And then, just before it actually attacked anyone—
“OH. THAT ONE LOOKS TASTIER.”
“Say what now?”
My trajectory shifted slightly, and I just barely missed the villagers.
“Guh!” someone groaned.
Wha...?
The sword had thrust itself at a skeletal, jacked man standing in the middle of the village.
So it did attack someone! Oh, but he parried it with a huge sword... Wait a sec! Isn’t this the black magus that attacked my hometown?! What’s he doing here?!
“Wh-Who the hell are you?!” the man demanded.
“What?! Wait, you’re...Crow?!” asked the village chief in bewilderment.
The chief, the other villagers, and the man who’d somehow parried my thrust were all staring at me. Everyone was drenched in blood, and something that looked like the dead body of a villager was at their feet.
Oh...
Everything clicked. The village was in the middle of being attacked by the dark magus. That must’ve been why the villagers were kicking up such a fuss.
So this garbage sword changed targets for some reason and attacked the jacked skeleton dude. And it...saved the village chief and the others from being killed? Okay.
It was a total coincidence, mind you, but I knew I could use the situation to my advantage. Even if it did suck to try to intimidate a dark magus, and my butt was puckering so hard you couldn’t thread a hair through it.
Whatever. What’s done is done. All that matters is I can use this douchebag to keep everyone from realizing I’m being controlled by a cursed sword! I just need to exude an overwhelming aura of anger and try to sound as cool as humanly possible!
“Evildoer! For the sin of robbing me of my home, I hereby deliver judgment!” I decreed, flashing a perfect glare at the muscular skeleton. I would pretend to be a condemner of all evil, make it look like I was willingly trying to cut down the wicked man!
A genius strategy, if I do say so myself.
Except all my rave reviews are a facade! I can only willingly move from the neck up! And I’m not angry at all—I just want to run away! Why me?!
“Psh! Mind your tongue, punk!” the skeletal man yelled at me. “I remember you! You were in that other village I attacked! You saved those little kids, didn’t you?! I missed out on that tasty, tasty child blood because of your ass!”
Eep! That’s one intense glare! And his muscles are bulging even more!
“Hey! You! Goblins!” he shouted. “It’s this little shit’s fault we missed dessert! You all just gonna sit there and let that go? Huh?!”
“Graaar!” the goblins roared in response.
The swarm of cunning predators came running to him—the very same creatures who had violated my ass a few days before, mind you. I was about ready to shit my pants.