The squirrelkin girl was impressive. Or maybe it was just my leading that was awesome. Regardless, it seems like my edge hadn’t deteriorated with the years. A trivial squad of guards wanted to stop me? Dream on. There weren’t even any magicians.
The fat body underneath me began to disperse into thousands of motes of golden light. I had seen the death of a spirit weapon hundreds of times, yet it never ceased to make me feel a sense of loss. Like one more brother devoured by the winds of time. A sigh escaped from my lips as I stood up, Forseti’s body fading away into nothing. “Let’s introduce ourselves,” I said and extended my hand towards the squirrelkin girl. Why did she look so … lascivious after slaughtering a platoon of soldiers? Was she a psycho? My hand faltered for a second, but thankfully, she didn’t notice. It would’ve hurt my pride to back down from a girl who wasn’t even a hundredth of my age. “I’m Durandal.”
“L-Lucia!” the squirrelkin girl said as her back stiffened. She saluted me in a style similar to the armies’ of my time. Looks like their traditions were long-lasting. The perverted look on her face disappeared, replaced by a serious one with slightly narrowed eyes. Good.
Her expression dimmed. “Just Lucia,” she said, her head lowering.
I smiled at her and placed my hand on her head. I furrowed my brow and closed my eyes. There was no mana flowing within her body. “Like a spirit,” I said and scratched her ear.
“Huh?” Lucia asked with red cheeks. Why did her face look so lewd again? Was this going to be a problem? Did I make a contract with a pervert? Wait. Wasn’t she the one that screamed? I shook my head. Forget it. She was the only viable candidate amongst the intruders.
“D-Durandal? Can I ask you something?”
Even if I said no, you’d probably ask anyway, right? I stared at her and waited. She gulped.
“You’re the sword of the Godking, correct?”
No shit. I nodded.
“Then that means this is his treasure trove?” Her head tilted to the side as her tail curled.
Obviously. Was my new master a bit slow? I nodded again.
“Then … where’s the treasure?”
“Think about it,” I said. Her face scrunched up as she seriously listened to my words. “What kind of treasures can last for thousands of years?”
“Can you name any? Other than me.”
“But”—she bit her lower lip—“it’s only been eighty years since the Godking died?”
What. I stared at her, and her shoulders stiffened. Her body trembled and a low squeak escaped from her throat. I asked, “Really?”
Her head moved like a stiff doll, nodding once.
What the hell!?!? Did that asshole make the dimension’s time pass at a slower rate? Was he trying to kill me? That f***er! Just because you can’t use me anymore since you’re dead doesn’t mean you have to take me with you, asshole. I closed my eyes and groaned. This was totally something that spiteful bastard would’ve done. If I hadn’t used up the spirit stones powering the dimension, who knows how many more millennia I’d have to wait?
I glared at the girl who was standing in a puddle of her sweat. Wait. That wasn’t sweat. The poor squirrelkin girl had tears in her eyes, and her lips were pressed together. She sniffled.
I exhaled. “Stop crying. That’s an order.”
“Yes!” she said and saluted. A tear ran down her face, but she refused to acknowledge it.
“Clean yourself up.”
She nodded and rummaged through the giant bag the army had brought along. At least she was pliable. It felt good to have someone who listened to my commands. No wonder why that bastard was so bossy. But only eighty years have passed since he died, huh? If we had taken out the spirit stones earlier, would I still be the only one left? Couldn’t we all have made it?
I raised my head. Lucia had changed into a set of armor. “The miniature dimension had some special characteristics. Thousands of years have passed in here, so all the treasures rotted away.”
“Would the Godking make a mistake like that?” Lucia asked and blinked.
“It wasn’t a mistake. That asshole did that on purpose.”
“A-asshole?” Lucia asked and took a step back. “The Godking?”
“Yup. He was an asshole.”
I shrugged. The legends were too prevalent for me to change her mind so quickly. It didn’t matter if she believed me or not.
“Then,” she said and frowned. “What about the other weapon spirits? Didn’t he have a literal army of them? How come you’re the only one left? And what about the spirit stones? Those don’t rot.”
I sighed. I could easily brush off her insensitive question, but why would I want an ignorant master? “A weapon spirit needs a contractor to sustain their life. The Godking died. We lost our contractor. We could’ve sustained ourselves with spirit stones for an indefinite period of time, but there were too many of us. The weaker spirits taught their techniques to the stronger ones and chose to disperse, leaving the spirit stones untouched. In the end, I was the one who lasted the longest, so I used all the spirit stones to preserve myself for as long as possible.”
I was going to continue talking, but Lucia walked up to me and hugged me. Her armor dug into my skin. She whispered into my chest, “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” I placed my hand on the girl’s head. A drop of water landed on the back of my hand. Was I crying?
“You must’ve been so lonely.”
Was I lonely? Impossible. “I’m just a weapon spirit.”
Lucia raised her head and gazed into my eyes. “No. You’re not. You are Durandal.”
Thousands of thoughts ran through my head at that moment, but only one of them truly stuck out. It was a memory of a time where I was stored on the shelf of a blacksmith’s shop. There weren’t many customers, and I wasn’t what they were looking for. Until he came—the little boy with a head full of brown, mop-like hair. The boy who would be known as the Godking. He bought me with the allowance he saved up over the course of two years.
People laughed at him when he raised me into the air, declaring, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a legend! And this is going to be my legendary sword, Durandal!”
I looked down and saw Lucia staring at me with an odd expression on her face—like she wanted to eat me. The expression disappeared so fast, I thought I had imagined it. “Work hard, Lucia,” I said and separated her from my body. I placed my hands on her shoulders. “I will make you into a legend.”