"You idiot… master… clean me first!"
The voice rang out again — sharp, feminine, impatient. It wasn't muffled like a distant call. It was clear, crisp, right inside his ear.
Leon froze, every muscle tensing. His head snapped left, then right, scanning the trees. Nothing. Only shadows and the cooling corpse of the Frosthide Bear at his feet.
His obsidian eyes narrowed. Who—? Where—?
Then, the voice snapped again, sharper, full of indignation.
"You stupid master! I'm here! What are you looking around for? Hurry up and clean me! I'm drenched in this disgusting blood!"
Leon's breath hitched. Slowly, his gaze dropped.
The black katana at his waist pulsed faintly, as if mocking him.
His eyes widened, disbelief etched into his face. "N–No way… the sword? That voice… it's coming from you?"
A soft hum of irritation buzzed in his ears.
"Finally! You're not completely brain-dead. Yes, me! Now stop gawking like an idiot and wipe me clean!"
Leon's heart pounded in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he unsheathed the blade. The katana's surface was slick with the Frosthide Bear's blood, the crimson sheen glinting in the faint light.
He swallowed hard, muttering, "A sword… talking… how the fuck is that even possible?"
He didn't know , myths of such things, whispered in the margins of history. Weapons so rare, so exalted, that they birthed souls of their own. Only treasures above the Divine rank could house them. And yet, here in his hand…
"Why wouldn't I be able to talk, you stupid master?" the voice chirped again, young but dripping with arrogance. "Now hurry up and clean me already!"
Still stunned, Leon drew a cloth and wiped the blood from the blade. Even as he moved, his obsidian eyes stayed locked on the weapon, his thoughts tangled with disbelief.
Once the last trace of blood vanished, he held the katana before him, its black sheen gleaming. "Why… why are you calling me master?"
The voice answered with the same casual certainty it had carried since the beginning.
"Why wouldn't I? You're the one wielding me now. I'm in your care — and you're my master."
Leon blinked, dumbstruck. For a long moment he didn't speak.
Finally, he exhaled slowly, muttering, "Hmph." He was still reeling, still in disbelief, but for now… he let it be.
If this is real… if this sword really has a soul...
He nodded slightly to himself, ignoring the storm of questions in his mind. For the moment, acceptance was the only path forward.
After Leon finished wiping the blade clean, the voice rang out again, impatient as ever.
"You stupid master! Remember this — always keep me clean!"
Before Leon could even respond, the sword pulsed in his hand.
Then—
A brilliant flash of black-and-red light burst forth, forcing him to shield his eyes. The katana slipped from his grip, dissolving into pure radiance before him. That light twisted, bent, and reshaped… until it wasn't a weapon anymore.
It was a child.
Leon's obsidian eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. Standing before him was a little girl, no more than six years old, her figure delicate and small, yet impossibly vivid.
Her skin was pale and smooth, like porcelain untouched by the world. Her cheeks were tinged with a soft rosy blush, round and plump with childish innocence. But it was her eyes that struck deepest — large, crimson-red orbs, gleaming like polished rubies, filled with both purity and an unnerving sharpness.
Her hair was jet black, silky and fine, cut to her neck in a bob that framed her tiny face perfectly. A few loose strands curled along her cheeks, only adding to her adorable charm.
She wore a tiny robe — black as midnight, with delicate crimson borders running along the edges. Despite its miniature size, the robe was refined, elegant, as though stitched for royalty. On her small feet rested dainty little red shoes, the kind a child might wear to a festival.
Everything about her looked like it had been crafted with painstaking care — as though the gods themselves had sculpted her into the most adorable form imaginable.
Leon just stood there, frozen, his mouth slightly open.
The sword… turned into a little girl?
The child spirit tilted her head, her crimson eyes narrowing with playful irritation. Her pouty lips pushed forward as she crossed her tiny arms, the gesture both cute and exasperated.
"Hmph! You're gawking again, stupid master!" she huffed, stamping her little foot, the small red shoe tapping against the ground with surprising force.
Leon blinked hard, shaking his head. "What… the actual fuck…"
"You… you're a child! How did—"
Before Leon could even finish, the little girl interrupted, her voice sharp and filled with haughty pride.
"You stupid master! This is my human form. Hmph! Don't misunderstand — I'm still a sword!"
Her tiny chest puffed out as she placed her small hands on her hips, crimson eyes gleaming with annoyance.
Leon blinked hard, still reeling, but managed to steady his voice. "I see… so this is your human form. But… why are you a child?" His obsidian eyes narrowed with curiosity.
The little girl's pale face flushed pink, her cheeks puffing as she stomped her tiny foot. She glared at him with the fiercest look her small features could muster — which only made her look unbearably adorable.
"It's all because of you, stupid master! Your strength is too little, and because of that, I can only manifest this small form. Hmph!"
Leon was struck silent. He didn't know whether to laugh or curse. After a moment, he sighed, muttering, "...Sorry."
"Hmph!" she snorted, turning her head with her cheeks puffed, clearly refusing to forgive so easily.
Leon rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes drifting to her small figure. "Since you're human now, I should probably give you a name…" He thought for a moment, then smirked. "How about… Blacky?"
The reaction was immediate.
Her crimson eyes went wide. Then, with a furious squeal, she leapt onto him, her tiny fists raining down on his head like soft taps.
"You idiot master! What do you take me for, a dog?! Blacky? Really?! Hmph!"
Her puffed cheeks, her little hands flailing against him, and her furious expression only made her look even cuter — though Leon wisely decided not to say that aloud.
"Alright, alright! Sorry! Forgive me!" Leon said quickly, raising his hands in surrender as he tried to dodge her tiny barrage.
She finally stopped, crossing her arms and turning her head with an indignant huff. "Hmph. I already have a name."
Leon exhaled, rubbing his sore head with a wry smile. "Alright then… what's your name?"
The little girl puffed out her tiny chest, both hands resting firmly on her hips as she lifted her nose high into the air. Her crimson eyes gleamed with pride, and her small lips curved into a smug little smile.
"It's Grimveil!" she declared, her voice sharp with importance.
Leon blinked, then let out a half-laugh. "Grimveil? That's way too scary for a little cute girl like you." His obsidian eyes glimmered with mischief as he tilted his head. "I'll call you Veile instead."
The girl's cheeks flushed, her tiny fists balling at her sides. "H-Hemp!" she huffed, stamping her little foot in irritation. Yet despite her annoyance, she didn't outright reject it. Her pout softened just enough to betray that she didn't entirely dislike the nickname.
Leon smirked knowingly. So she likes it, huh?
"So, Veile…" Leon said casually, folding his arms, "can you travel in this human form? Or will you have to turn back into a sword again?"
Veile crossed her arms with a little humph, her crimson eyes narrowing as she lifted her chin. "I can stay like this as long as I want! But—" she wagged her tiny finger at him, her tone suddenly firm despite her childlike appearance, "I won't show myself in front of others unless you tell me to."
Leon raised a brow, surprised by her serious tone. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Fair enough."
Veile huffed, planting her tiny fists on her waist, crimson eyes gleaming with smugness.
"Stupid master, I noticed something. That movement technique the old man gave you — you're using it wrong. You're making one crucial mistake that slows you down."
Leon raised a brow, curious. "I did?"
"Yes!" Veile puffed her cheeks, stamping her little foot for emphasis. "Lightning Shadow Step is an Ancient Rank technique. Even its first stage leaves other movement arts crawling in the dirt. But you—" she jabbed her tiny finger at his chest "—you're pushing with your legs and arms like some mortal brawler."
Leon blinked. "What's wrong with that?"
Veile gave an exaggerated sigh, nose tilting upward in annoyance.
"The power isn't supposed to come from your limbs. It comes from your core. The dantian drives the body, not your legs. You should push out from here—" she poked him sharply in the stomach, "—and let the energy ripple through your frame. Only then will the step flicker the way it's meant to. Otherwise, you're just running really fast."
Leon's obsidian eyes narrowed as he absorbed her words. So that's why the speed felt limited…
Veile crossed her arms, smirking with childlike arrogance. "Fix that, and even your shadow will struggle to keep up with you, stupid master."
Author's Note :
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