Holy Weapon

As I was saying, she slowly started to change. Her movements, once clumsy and predictable, became sharper. Each strike grew more precise, her speed increasing with every attempt. It was as if she was learning, adapting to my reactions in real-time. The hesitation I had seen earlier was gone, replaced by a terrifying determination.

Her attacks became relentless. The gap between us was shrinking, her blows now forcing me to retreat step by step. My breathing grew heavier, panic settling in as I realized I couldn't keep dodging forever. Each swing came closer than the last, and I could feel the heat of her strikes grazing my skin.

Finally, she managed to land a hit.

The force of her blow sent me flying backward, my body slamming into the darkness behind me. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs, and I collapsed onto the cold, unyielding ground. The world spun as pain radiated through my back, and for a moment, I couldn't move.

As she lowered herself, the darkness around me began to shatter, fragments of shadow falling away like shards of glass. Slowly, the once pitch-black void transformed into a scene from another time—a world that seemed pulled straight from the medieval age.

But this world wasn't whole. It was broken, devastated. The air carried a heavy stillness, and the faint glow of moonlight revealed skulls scattered across the ground, remnants of a long-forgotten battle. Shattered buildings stood as silent witnesses to a tragedy that had occurred ages ago, their jagged edges casting eerie shadows.

The woman stood over me, her figure framed by the ruined world. Her expression shifted—no longer the focused predator from before, but something else entirely. There was sorrow in her eyes, a weight that made her seem older than the destruction around us.

"I guess I don't have a choice but you, huh?" she muttered, her voice soft but heavy with disappointment. Her words stung, not because of what she said, but how she said it—like I was her last hope unwanted option.

She looked down at me with a face that was more tired than angry, more resigned than hopeful. I could feel her disappointment, as if I had failed some unspoken test without even knowing it had begun.

Then she reached out her hand, and the air before her rippled, a distortion spreading like a drop of ink in water. The space tore open, revealing a rift that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Inside the rift was a sword—a mighty, massive weapon that seemed too grand for words.

I had never seen or heard of anything like it before. Its blade gleamed with a brilliance that seemed to defy the darkness around us, and its intricate engravings pulsed faintly, as if alive. The hilt was crafted with a regal elegance, adorned with gold accents and wrapped in leather that radiated strength and authority.

She turned her gaze to me, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she reached for my hand, her touch both commanding and steady. Before I could react, she pulled me forward, guiding me through the rift.

In an instant, the world shifted. The desolation and ruins were gone, replaced by a grand palace that took my breath away. Golden pillars lined the massive hall, each one etched with intricate carvings that seemed to tell stories of an age long past. A deep red carpet stretched out beneath our feet, leading to an ornate throne at the far end.

The moonlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows, casting a silvery glow over everything. It reflected off the sword, which now hovered in the center of the hall, suspended in a beam of light. The blade shimmered with a brilliance that made it seem even more majestic than it had looked through the rift.

I stood there, awestruck, as the sheer grandeur of the palace and the sword's presence overwhelmed me. Whatever this place was, it was unlike anything I had ever seen.

"So… who are you, and where the hell am I?" I asked, my voice breaking the heavy silence that hung over the palace. My words echoed faintly off the golden pillars, but she didn't answer right away.

Instead, she turned and began walking down the long corridor, her footsteps light yet purposeful. Her grip on my hand was firm, leaving no room for hesitation as she guided me forward.

I stumbled slightly, trying to keep up, glancing around at the lavish surroundings. The grandeur of the place didn't feel comforting—it felt oppressive, like the weight of something far beyond my understanding was pressing down on me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke, her voice calm but laced with an unsettling certainty. "We are in a Holy Country but ı dont remember the name." she said without turning to look at me.

"And you," she continued, stopping in front of a massive door adorned with intricate carvings of battles and legends, "are the Hero."

I blinked, my mind reeling. "Hero? What are you—" Before I could finish, she turned to face me, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my stomach twist. "And I," she said, her voice dropping into something colder, heavier, "am the Demon Emperess"

Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. My breath caught as the realization of what she'd just said began to sink in.

"So… as the almighty Demon Emperor, why are you just guiding me through a corridor?" I asked, trying to inject some sarcasm into my voice despite the growing unease in my chest.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her grip on my hand tightening for a split second before she let go. Slowly, she turned to face me, her expression shifting from calm to something much darker.

"BECAUSE," she yelled, her voice echoing through the grand hall like a thunderclap, "YOUR FUCKING ANCESTOR FAILED TO KILL ME!"

I flinched, the sheer force of her words slamming into me. Her anger wasn't just loud—it was palpable, like a storm bearing down on me.

"He didn't just fail," she continued, her voice cracking with a mixture of rage and pain. "He fell in love with me. ME! The Demon Emperess! He made me watch as he and our children died—every single one of them! And when they were gone, there was nothing left but this… this shattered world!"

Her hands clenched into fists as she stepped closer, her eyes burning with an intensity that made me take a step back. "So I destroyed it. Everything. Burned it to ash because there was nothing left for me. And oh no, because I destroyed the world, nobody managed to summon another hero to kill me!"

Her voice broke slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might actually cry. But then she straightened herself, her tone turning sharp and cold again.

"So, I spent 100,000 years studying the way of the gods," she said, each word deliberate and dripping with venom, "learning how to summon you. Do you get it now?"

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a boulder. I wanted to say something—anything—but my throat was dry, and my mind was a jumbled mess.

"Yeah..." I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. My legs felt like jelly, but somehow I took a hesitant step closer to her. My curiosity, despite my fear, got the better of me. "So... your kids weren't immortal like you?" I asked, my face a mix of terror and genuine curiosity.

Her gaze snapped back to me, and for a moment, I thought she might lash out again.

Instead, her expression softened just slightly—enough for me to notice the tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"YES," she yelled, her voice still sharp but now tinged with sorrow. "THEY WERE NOT. THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME REMEMBER, DUMBASS." A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, her movements stiff and almost robotic.

I hesitated, unsure if I should press further, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. "And... what's your name? Please," I added, my voice cracking. My fear was plastered all over my face, but my brain was still too curious to shut up.

She stared at me for a moment, her dark eyes narrowing as if debating whether I was worth answering. Then, with a sigh that sounded like it carried the weight of centuries, she said, "Ahh, that's the last question. Remember it well, hero. My name is Lucifer, the Empress of all Demons."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable, but before I could process them, she murmured something under her breath. "Do all heroes have to be this dumb and talkative? Answer me,Arthur..."

Her gaze shifted, her focus no longer on me but somewhere far away—on someone who wasn't even there. "Karna," she murmured to herself

Her voice quieter now, almost reverent.

I couldn't tell if she was talking to herself, to a memory, or to someone long dead, but the weight of her words left me frozen in place.

We ascended the grand staircase, the golden steps glowing faintly under the moonlight that filtered through the tall windows. My gaze remained fixed on the sword ahead—the same one I had glimpsed earlier through the rift. Its sheer presence was overwhelming, as if it were radiating an unspoken challenge.

Lucifer stopped a step behind me and gave me a small push, her black hair cascading over her shoulders as she grinned, a mixture of hope and impatience dancing in her eyes. "Okay, hero, take it out—the Holy Sword," she said, her voice carrying an almost childlike excitement.

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. The idea of me, someone so ordinary, being capable of wielding such a weapon felt absurd. But her smile—one laced with a flicker of desperation—left me with no room to argue.

I stepped forward hesitantly, reaching for the sword. Its hilt felt warm against my fingers, pulsing faintly as if alive. With a deep breath, I gripped it firmly and began to pull.

The moment the blade began to leave its resting place, the entire corridor came alive. A blinding light erupted from the sword, flooding the palace with a brilliance so intense it felt like daylight, even though the moon still hung high in the night sky. The walls and golden pillars shimmered, reflecting the radiant glow.

As the blade fully emerged, its weight seemed to vanish, and the light condensed, crawling down the length of the sword and onto my arm. I froze as I watched the light spiral around me, its touch warm but strange, like it was binding itself to me.

Before I could react, the sword dissolved into a stream of light and coiled around my wrist, its form shifting and shrinking. In mere moments, it had transformed into a simple, unassuming ring resting on my finger.

I stared at it in disbelief. "What the hell just happened?" I muttered, holding up my hand to inspect the ring. Lucifer's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Looks like it accepted you," she said, her tone triumphant yet oddly calm. "The Holy Sword isn't just a weapon—it's a part of you now."

"But considering you're the only human alive in this world, I guess it had no choice," she added with a sly smile. "Now, think of it to summon it," she instructed, her tone firm yet curious.

I did as I was told, focusing on the ring. It let out a faint glow before releasing a small burst of light. In my hand appeared a sword, but it was much smaller and lighter than it had been moments ago. Its shape was sleek, almost resembling a katana from Japanese history, its blade shimmering faintly in the dim light.

"Wait—where did the other sword go? It was so much cooler!" I said, my face twisting in disappointment.

Lucifer chuckled softly, clearly amused by my reaction. "Hehe, that was the sword of my husband—your ancestor," she said, a proud smile spreading across her face. "But don't worry. The sword adapted itself to suit you better. If you master other forms, like a greatsword or even archery, the Weapon will transform to match your skills."Her words left me stunned, my gaze shifting between the blade that summoned by the ring. Before I could ask anything else, she reached out and held my hand...