The Divided Blade

“The Sword’s Tomb?”

I zeroed in on Aen’s words and questioned him. He nodded, looking as though he had expected my reaction.

“This place was a prison constructed specifically to seal the Demonic Sword. And that monster you saw, Mr. Han-sol… that is the Demonic Sword.”

I was struck by a wave of shock. Wait, he said it was a sword?

“It didn’t look like a sword, it looked like a… human-like creature?”

“To the naked eye, it certainly appears that way. But its true essence is the Demonic Sword.”

“What…?”

I struggled to wrap my head around Aen’s words. Having never heard of a monster like that before, I still couldn’t bring myself to fully trust his claim.

A humanoid Demonic Sword out of nowhere…? Then it’s not even a ‘sword’ in the end, is it?

Moreover, because I had crossed over to this place right after catching a glimpse of the Demonic Sword’s true form, his explanation made even less sense.

That thing had undeniably been shaped like a blade, and when it suddenly turned on me to attack, it hadn’t felt human in the slightest. Facing that monster, I had felt so utterly suffocated by the pitch-black darkness…

“But…”

“I understand your confusion. At first, we had absolutely no idea what was going on either. However, what I can tell you is this: the sword is currently split into two parts.”

“The sword is split?”

“Yes. What remains here is the sword’s ‘flesh’. In other words, the framework of the blade has taken on a human form, while the sword’s ‘spirit’ is likely… well, I suspect you are the one who disturbed it, Mr. Han-sol.”

“…The sword’s spirit.”

As I dazedly muttered the words back to myself, Aen began to unfurl the tale surrounding this sinister blade bit by bit.

“Ever since it was sealed, the Demonic Sword has constantly watched for an opening. It even tried to dominate the caretakers of this facility, and we came dangerously close to failure. Fortunately, at the cost of a great sacrifice, we were able to seal it once more.”

However, during that ordeal, the sheer impact of renewing the seal had caused a hairline fracture in the blade. And from that day onward, that small crack began to widen further and further.

“At first, we believed the Demonic Sword’s power had finally waned and it was breaking apart. But… we were wrong. A section of the blade inscribed with the incantation that binds its spirit had been damaged.”

As a result, the Demonic Sword had surprisingly managed to dominate someone who wasn’t even wielding it, without having to use its actual body—the physical blade.

Of course, it couldn’t exert the same absolute control as it did when grasped in a hand, but it had become capable of parasiting a human body using nothing but its spirit to crawl out into the world.

“…Then, is it impossible to know where the Demonic Sword’s spirit currently is?”

“Yes. If it had simply vanished like that, we would have lost track of it forever. However, the separated spirit of the Demonic Sword could not let go of its lingering attachment to its physical body. To its blade.”

According to Aen, the longer the sword’s spirit remained apart from its physical blade, the more it would gradually dissipate.

Consequently, the spirit had no choice but to gravitate back toward the blade, repeatedly manipulating those with weak willpower to guide it back here.

“Then the Demonic Sword I saw earlier… isn’t the real one?”

“Correct. The Demonic Sword resting here is the real one.”

Yet, doubts still lingered. To my eyes, the blade of the Demonic Sword I had seen earlier didn’t resemble a ‘sword’ at all.

“Then why does the mindless blade look like a young boy?”

Aen answered as if he had been waiting for this exact question.

“I can explain that. However, since it seems you have never heard stories of this nature before, Mr. Han-sol… would it be alright if I gave you a brief overview of the Demonic Sword first?”

Hearing his request, I nodded. “Please do.”

“In that case, I must first tell you exactly what a Demonic Sword is, and share the records of a man who miraculously survived even after grasping one.”

“A survivor?”

“Yes. Normally, the masters of a Demonic Sword are hunted down and killed by hunters seeking the blade, or they are put down by high-level swordsmen or subjugation squads.”

“Ah…”

“And even if they happen to survive external attacks, their life force is completely drained by the Demonic Sword, eventually killing them anyway.”

In short, it was called a ‘Demonic Sword’ because merely gripping its hilt would siphon away one’s vitality, erase one’s sense of self, and force them to slaughter everyone around them under its wicked commands.

A cold sweat broke out on my skin as I listened. Sealing a Demonic Sword was a far more perilous undertaking than I had imagined.

Seeing my pale, unnerved expression, a faint smile played on Aen’s lips for the first time.

“How does it feel? You wouldn’t want to come anywhere near something like a Demonic Sword, would you?”

“O-Of course not.”

“Even so, aren’t you curious as to why exceptional swordsmen still find themselves possessed by it?”

“Ah… yes. Why is that?”

“At first, we didn’t fully understand the reason either. To learn why, we would have needed to somehow capture and interrogate or investigate someone possessed by the blade, but most of them died before we could.”

“…”

“Because of that, we only had a vague notion that the Demonic Sword possessed something within it that drove men mad.”

Aen stroked his chin as he spoke.

“Then, by some miracle, we secured a single survivor.”

“A survivor?”

“Yes. He was a resilient swordsman who hadn’t fallen to subjugation squads or hunters… but he was a man whose arm had ultimately been severed, preventing him from being entirely consumed by the blade.”

Hearing that, an inexplicable chill crept down my right arm. Aen, completely unbothered by my expression, pressed on.

“According to him, the reason he fell under its spell was because right before he gripped the Demonic Sword, the visage of his long-deceased father appeared before him.”

“An illusion?”

“Something like that. And he has absolutely no memory of what happened after he took hold of the blade. He was utterly devastated when told of the horrific murders he had committed. For context, he was a brutal killer who had ruthlessly slaughtered every single soul, down to the young children, across seven separate villages.”

“…”

“At any rate, since he is the sole survivor to have held the blade and lived, we cannot be entirely certain that everyone else experienced the exact same thing… but it is an undeniable fact that the sword alters its appearance. We have witnessed it firsthand as well.”

I fell into deep thought after hearing his words. Yet, the mystery remained unsolved.

‘…But it didn’t appear to me as my deceased father or anyone I would long for.’

It had taken the form of a young boy I had never seen before in my life, which was why I hadn’t felt any overwhelming urge to possess it.

Right then, Aen spoke up.

“However, an unexpected situation has arisen at present.”

“An unexpected situation?”

“After the Demonic Sword’s ego vanished, a very slow transformation began to occur within the remaining physical blade.”

Aen motioned for me to come closer. I stepped toward him, fixing my gaze on the wall he had just stepped away from.

Hummmm—

There, a broken sword, snapped in half, was bound tight by heavy iron chains. The blade faintly emanated a jet-black aura, which made the sword look as though it were constantly warping and distorting. It was almost as if it were vibrating.

And remarkably, from the jagged, broken tip of the blade, gray ash was drifting away like dust—as if the sword itself had originally been forged out of nothing but cinders.

Utterly repulsed by an appearance that looked like something straight out of an apocalyptic nightmare, I pointed a finger at it and asked, “Is this… the true form of the Demonic Sword?”

“It is.”

Looking closer, I noticed old, paper-like tags attached to every single link of the chains. They were the exact same color as the talismans I had seen back in the prison cells.

‘Those talismans must be the seals, then. They’re probably items…’

“Then, what about that boy’s form I saw earlier…?”

“Our theory is that it might be a second consciousness.”

“A second consciousness?”

“Yes.”

Aen nodded as he looked at me, seeing that I still hadn’t fully grasped the concept.

“It seems the mindless blade of the Demonic Sword has manifested a new ego to fill the empty void left behind.”

With those words, he pointed once more toward the broken, jagged edge of the sword.

“Ever since the image of that boy began to manifest, the blade has been restoring itself.”

“…What does that mean?”

“The length of the sword has increased by about two centimeters compared to last month.”

Aen scowled, muttering that it was acting like a living creature. My face contorted into the exact same grimace.