I Became the Main Character’s Demon Sword

1)

In a silent space where nothing could be felt, there was a sensation of the body floating. The field of vision was entirely white, and thoughts were slow to form, as if the mind was turning sluggishly. Nevertheless, ‘it’ felt that this current feeling wasn’t bad.

Once again, in the fading consciousness, an unknown being said so. It still didn’t know who the voice belonged to, or why it was saying such things.

The important thing was that ‘it’ had now become ‘Arpel’.

***

It had been five days since waking up in this strange place.

Actually, that wasn’t quite accurate. It had fallen asleep once in between, and it had only gauged the days based on the strengthening and fading of sunlight coming through the window.

When Arpel opened its eyes again, what it saw was a place like a storage room. The space was very cramped, but it had everything inside. From poorly trimmed wooden swords to old toys that seemed to belong to children, cleaning supplies… In short, it was a junk storage room.

‘Peaceful.’

It thought as it floated gently in the air.

The sunlight streaming in was comfortably warm, and through the slanted rays of light, small dust particles could be seen floating in the air like snowflakes. It didn’t particularly feel dirty.

What else could be expected from a storage room? Given that it was full of odds and ends, it would be difficult to expect cleanliness.

It didn’t question who it was or why it was here. It just accepted things as they were. It would be more accurate to say that it didn’t feel the need to question.

And among the things that Arpel accepted without question was the fact that its true form was a ‘sword’.

After waking up in the storage room, as it floated around inside, it thought about going out through the slightly open window. Of course, it tried, but didn’t succeed. An invisible force pulled its body back, preventing it from moving forward.

At the end of that force was a pitch-black sword. As soon as it saw that sword, it instinctively knew that it was the sword. Although it didn’t know why it was a sword, it was satisfied because the appearance wasn’t bad.

‘Sleepy.’

Arpel’s vision blurred and closed in the warm and drowsy air. Isn’t it too much to ask not to sleep in this atmosphere? Quickly rationalizing, Arpel didn’t resist the oncoming drowsiness.

It woke up again because of screams heard from afar.

Until just before falling asleep, it had been a place exuding peace, but now only crimson flames filled its vision.

Arpel, blinking blankly, turned its head this way and that. The fire that had crept up the walls of the storage-like building soon caused the roof to collapse.

Naturally, there was no impact on Arpel, who was a sword. But that only applied to the external aspects.

As the roof collapsed due to the flames, several houses and people could be seen beyond. The fire was greedily devouring what must have been a peaceful village until recently.

The crimson view, people writhing in pain, houses creaking and screaming before succumbing to the heat and collapsing.

Throughout watching all of this, its mind was churning. It felt like something was constantly trying to force its way in, an unpleasant feeling.

The unknown thing digging into its mind even caused a headache. As Arpel clutched its head with translucent hands and groaned, it felt a whirlwind of tangled memories. After a little more time passed, a lightning-like realization struck.

‘Ah, this is inside a novel.’

A scene from the past, which the protagonist had dismissed as a nightmare, was unfolding before its eyes. After this night of disaster passes, the protagonist, the sole survivor from the village, will return to his home, now reduced to ashes by the fire, and pick up the demon sword that will change his life.

Arpel abruptly stopped its train of thought. Under the clear night sky, with flames intertwining in red light and devouring everything, it didn’t want to think about such things right now.

It just curled up quietly, listening to the crying of children and the screams of people. There was nothing a sword, unable to leave its designated place, could do.

It was a gesture of hoping for the swift passage of this nightmarish night where nothing could be changed.

***

When it opened its eyes after closing them in hopes of falling asleep, the nightmarish night had long since disappeared. The day had dawned, and all that remained around were blackened timbers proving where houses once stood and ashes scattered on the ground.

Staring blankly at the place that had become empty overnight, Arpel tried hard to organize its thoughts.

Last night, during the unexplained fire that suddenly struck like a natural disaster and turned an entire village to ashes, Arpel remembered something like a ‘past life’.

The reason for calling it something like a past life was…

‘I don’t know who I am.’

It couldn’t remember what kind of person it was in those memories, what its name was, when its birthday was, or even why or when it died. Everything passed by like a panorama, but it was all as hazy as foam.

Only a brief feeling of ‘So that’s how I lived before’ remained.

Ridiculously, there were some memories that remained clear. The title and plot of a novel it had read before dying were among them. That was why Arpel was certain that this was inside a novel.

It felt dejected, not knowing why it only clearly remembered the contents of the novel out of that long life, but it tried to pull itself together, thinking there must be a reason why it only remembered the novel.

After all, this was a world where ‘gods’ existed.

‘For now… why am I that demon sword of all things.’

One existence that couldn’t be left out of the protagonist’s tragic narrative was a single sword that remained uniquely in the ruins after the flames had died down. The problem was that Arpel itself was that sword.

Worries flooded in, but in a world settled with ashes, it could only hover around the sword stuck in the ground, trying to think positively… or rather, not.

‘Am I… going to be sealed?’

The demon sword was indeed necessary for the protagonist in the novel. The protagonist was a child blessed by the demon god, and what allowed him to properly use his power was the demon sword containing a fragment of the god’s authority.

However, this sword wasn’t in a good state. Unfortunately, it had been corrupted by cultists who worshipped an evil god.

The corrupted demon sword constantly whispered to the protagonist that it was his fault, and when the protagonist’s mind collapsed upon learning that the village had been burned down by people targeting him, it possessed him.

In the end, the protagonist, wandering the world with a devastated mind and lacking humanity, is half-dragged away by a search party sent from the temple. Later, when the high priest learns that the demon sword has been corrupted, he seals it and requests help from a saint for the protagonist’s treatment.

In other words, this demon sword was merely one of the elements that made the protagonist’s narrative more tragic.

If Arpel couldn’t escape from the role of the sword in the novel, the only outcome awaiting it would be sealing.

It didn’t want to be sealed. Although it couldn’t properly remember its past life except for the contents of the novel, it was certain that it had already died once, so it didn’t want to die again.

‘Even if I’m sealed, I probably won’t die, but…’

It might have to spend decades, or if unlucky, hundreds of years doing nothing, trapped inside the sword. After all, a demon sword containing a fragment of divine authority wouldn’t easily rust or break.

‘That’s as good as being dead. Yes, this is an opportunity.’

Arpel’s top priority was set. To live peacefully and happily without being sealed.

The memories of its past life had brought it a very valuable opportunity to escape an unhappy future. Arpel, with its eyes tightly closed, repeated its resolution countless times, when suddenly it sensed an approaching presence.

“Ah…”

It was a small child, face and body covered in soot as if coated in ashes. Its gait was unsteady as it approached, as if its leg was injured.

The light quickly faded from the child’s eyes as it looked at the house site, now nothing but ashes, with an unbelieving gaze. It was an expression of having lost even the last strand of hope.

Soon, tears fell from the large eyes. Arpel could only watch the scene. Sitting down and crying on the black ground where nothing remained looked like someone who had lost everything.

Arpel just silently watched the protagonist of this world.

The child, who had been sobbing for a long time, finally stood up unsteadily after some more time had passed. Then, without a word, it began to wander around.

It was a pitiful gesture of checking if anything remained to remember family by, and also a lump of lingering attachment, wondering if any trace of life might still be found unextinguished.

After walking around for a few minutes and confirming that there was nothing left where the house had been, the child wore a dejected expression. However, as if not giving up, it approached this direction, or more precisely, towards where the storage room had been.

It felt as if a non-existent heart was pounding, acting foolishly.

“A sword…?”