The blade floated and escaped from his clutch. It then rotated insanely and became blurry until it stopped abruptly, pointing its sharp tip at Shun.
Shun was stunned for a moment.
"Eh?" he let out a word.
The sword crashed itself at him. Shun leapt to the side. Behind him was a loud thud and echoing roar; dust filled the area.
Shun rolled and quickly got up. He turned around to the cloud of dust. "What's the big deal! Your master is dead!"
There was no response but the sword cutting the cloud of dust.
Shun stepped to the side at the right moment and quickly grabbed its hilt. Quickly afterward, he used everything he got and stabbed it into the ground, burying half the claysword.
He used what's left of his mana to clump them together, making it harder for the claymore to escape.
It moved its hilt left and right to loosen itself and escape, but the sturdy clump wouldn't let it.
"Stay quiet, will you? Your master is no longer alive."
The claymore stopped moving and instead trembled. It reminded Shun of someone crying so hard that their body shakes.
Could the same apply here? Surely not, it was a weapon.
"Are you crying?" Shun frowned one of his brows.
The sword didn't say a word. Well, it's a sword after all, why did he expect it to speak? But it did move its hilt back and forth as if nodding.
Silence lingered for a long time. Shun's gaze was on the floor.
"I'm sorry."
He finally spoke; voice filled with remorse as he put himself into the claymore's position. It accompanied its master through thick and thin.
"You must've been in shock and sad that your master died." He halted his words to find the right ones to continue. "That feeling of rage toward the one that killed your beloved one, I can imagine it."
His words were soft and filled with empathy.
"I know you're not going to forgive me, but I want to say this. It isn't your job as a weapon to think about these measly things. Your job is to cut.
"That is your sole purpose. Your goal in this existence." Shun paused. "However, give your emotions and memories to me. Transfer them. It's my job as a human to have these complicated things.
"If you let me, please burden me with what you have." Shun held the hilt and a wave of force entered his hand and immediately shot to his brain.
Innumerable images flashed through his head.
Flowers, a smiling kid, a beautiful landscape of the city, a field of wheat, and a pregnant woman looking at him with a kind and soft smile, before changing into images of a mountain of corpses where he stood at the peak, an eclipse that slowly disintegrated into a black hole, the field and the city engulfed in fire, and in the heavens was a giant titan chained on all fours, where His chains extended beyond space.
"You're supposed to protect this town! Why did you destroy it!"
A voice shouted with intense rage. Shun turned his head to the person.
"It's your fault, Alden. Don't pin your sin on me." The owner of the memory spoke, pointing his claymore at Alden.
The memory stopped there, leaving Shun breathless and terrified.
They were just memories, yet they felt so real. It was like those events happened and he lived through the tale.
He didn't know what was real and what wasn't anymore. Is he Shun, or the owner of those memories?
Calm down, calm down. These memories don't belong to me. Don't let them twist you, Shun said to himself and felt himself again.
He paused for a moment, letting himself process the turmoil of emotions before moving on to the bigger questions.
He shifted his gaze to the distant town.
"Is this town a fragment of the past that ended up in this Tower? Or did the Tower make it from scratch to add immersion?"
Both ways were terrifying. It'd be smart not to dwell on it much longer. There were no definite answers anyway.
Shun gazed at the sword. "You must be in great pain…
"It must be tough too, to go through all of that as a blade. But I've received your cries loud and clear, so hear me.
"I will bear the things you shouldn't. You are a claymore. Your job, your only purpose in this world is to cut and kill your enemies, and I am a person, a human, who shall burden your memories and feelings. You don't have to carry them alone anymore." Shun pulled out the claymore.
He pointed the tip at the heavens. The sun slowly ascended. Its ray shone brightly on the sword, giving the blade a sharp glint.
Shun smiled.
***
Sitting under the shade, Shun observed the claymore.
The claymore appeared as a smooth, jade-like blade soaked in red, radiating an ominous and deadly energy. It had a long, slightly curved form.
Except for the surface that was as smooth as an ornament, its edges were chipped away, and orange blood, dried and old, covered them.
The cross guard took the form of a demonic skull, with its hilt wrapped in aged leather.
Overall, it gave the impression of a cursed relic—something forged by the grief and blood of thousands of souls. It felt overwhelmingly powerful, and such a weapon was now in his hands.
He felt a faint connection with it, like there was an ethereal string stretching between them.
The claymore freed itself from his hand and wandered about like a curious cat. It moved freely, like a living, breathing thing, and Shun had no direct control over it.
Honestly, this left him slightly restless. It could just stab him when he least expected it.
But he mustn't think such ways. They reached a deal and came to terms.
Implementing such a line of thought, he loosened his guard.
With his nerves relaxed a bit, he wanted to try something. He shifted his gaze to a rabbit in the distance.
Closing his eyes, he focused on that ethereal connection. At first, only darkness, but as he kept intensifying his focus, there it was.
A red, ethereal string in this void of a mindscape. It existed and didn't exist simultaneously.
Shun held it, and almost immediately got control over it. The sensation was similar to controlling his very limb.
He opened his eyes and commanded the claymore to kill the rabbit. It shot forward and cut the rabbit's head.
The rabbit collapsed to the ground with blood gushing out like a fountain. Its body then collapsed on the pool of blood.
With such a powerful tool added into his arsenal, Shun smiled and celebrated inwardly, 'Let's go!'
He looked at his hands with a wide smile, feeling more hopeful about his situation.
But almost immediately, he couldn't feel the string anymore and lost control over the sword. His smile vanished and he frowned slightly, diving into his mind, wondering what just occurred.
Many theories, actually, but the most plausible was this:
He could only control the sword once before it entered a cooldown state and he could use it again.
Well, a downside like this wasn't weird at all, so Shun didn't care. It just meant he had to calculate when to use it.
After taking the life of the rabbit, the claymore casually returned to Shun, letting out a reverberation that only he could hear.
For unknown reasons, Shun understood what the claymore was trying to say.
It was happy that it could finally cut things without having to carry memories or emotions.
Understanding those lines, it simply meant the claymore no longer possessed memories and feelings. Just a simple sword with no thoughts.
Shun somewhat envied that, but he chose to move on. This is just how things are, becoming a human.
Before he got himself all philosophical, he walked over to the rabbit and brought it back to the camp.
During his training with his grandma, she taught him how to skin an animal. The knowledge may linger, but Shun wasn't particularly skilled with it. It had been a while since he put this skill into use, after all.
Before skinning an animal, one must let it bleed out.
He nicely asked the claymore to hang the rabbit by its legs. It accepted and used only its tip to pierce the rabbit's legs, enough for it to hang.
Shun nodded in approval and began the treatment. He summoned his weapon from his inventory. Particles of light gathered and turned into a dagger.
He cleanly cut across the throat, and the blood spilled out like a waterfall. It dyed the ground red and slowly made a pool of blood, until the body hung still and pale, excreting one last drop of blood.
This whole process took five minutes. Shun kept asking if the claymore was tired from hanging the rabbit. It hummed a pitch noise that translated to, 'I'm fine!'
Dried out of blood, Shun proceeded with the next treatment. Oh, of course, he didn't forget to show gratitude to the sword.
He hooked the knife behind the rabbit's ankles, slicing the fur open with a bit of struggle.
And with a firm grip, he peeled the skin downward, like pulling off a glove, revealing the muscle beneath.
The pelt came free in one, not-so-clean motion, leaving behind only a memory of what it used to be.
It looked messy, with some cuts on the meat and signs of struggle when Shun pulled the pelt. It detached not so easily.
Moving on, he removed the limbs. The dagger might not look like it, but it was designed to kill monsters with skin two times more durable than this bone.
After that came the gutting and removal of its innards, avoiding puncturing the bladder or intestines.
He went to the town's fountain and rinsed the meat properly before returning to his camp.
As soon as he arrived, Shun's body petrified. Something had happened to Akira.
"Crap!" Shun moved in haste.