A Blades Hunger

Kilineiram had finally gained his first wielder. A step toward reclaiming his humanoid form—at least, that was what he believed. Without wasting time, he called upon the system for answers.

---

[Essence is a metaphysical energy that represents a being's life force, experience, and combat potential. It exists in all living creatures, but only through battle and conflict can it be extracted.]

[There are three primary sources of essence:]

- Combat Essence– Absorbed when Kilineiram's wielder defeats enemies.

- Wielder Essence– Gained over time from a wielder's emotions, ambitions, and growth.

- Resonant Essence – Extracted when Kilineiram and his wielder achieve a deep bond, synchronizing their thoughts and will.

---

Carlos's POV

I looked at the blade in my hands—its design was unlike anything I had ever seen. A beautiful longsword with a red hilt, inlaid with a brilliant blue gemstone at its base. The blade itself was a void of shimmering darkness, as if someone had captured the night sky and forged it into steel. It pulsed faintly, almost like it was alive.

This was no ordinary weapon.

(C: Carlos speaking / K: Kilineiram speaking)

C:"You're conscious, aren't you?"

K: "Yes, boy. I am."

His voice was deep, commanding—yet laced with something I couldn't quite place. Fatigue?

C (excited):"What are you?"

K:"I am the great Sword Demon, Kilineiram. Due to certain circumstances, I am now bound in this form. But in time, I shall reclaim my true self. And you… you will help me. In exchange, I shall lend you my strength."

As he spoke, I felt a strange sensation in my arms—like something unseen was linking us.

K (thinking):'Huuuh… speaking like this is exhausting. It's been so long since I've had a conversation.'

C:"And what exactly can you do?"

K:"Not much—yet." There was a hint of irritation in his tone. *"But the more enemies you slay with me, the stronger I… no, we… will become."

There was a brief silence before Kilineiram spoke again, his voice carrying an unusual curiosity.

K:"By the way, do you know of the Re-Estize Kingdom? And what year is it?"

I blinked, confused.

C:"Re-Estize Kingdom? Never heard of it. But the year is… one year after the descent of the First God."

Kilineiram's POV

*Re-Estize doesn't exist yet?*

I searched my memories. By the time Yggdrasil collapsed and Ainz arrived in this world, Re-Estize was already established for 200 years. That means… I'm at least 200 years before canon.

K:"The descent of the First God… what does that mean?"

C:"The Six Gods descended to our world a year ago. A few months back, they began establishing what's now called the Slane Theocracy."

My mind reeled. 'The Six Great Gods. The original players who arrived in the New World.'

I was in their era. So not just 200 but 600 years before Canon.

'Shit.'

But then again, this wasn't necessarily bad. If anything, this was an opportunity. If I played my cards right, I could grow stronger before canon even began. I could regain my form, gather power, and perhaps—

No. The butterfly effect was dangerous. I needed to be careful. Any major changes I made now could ripple through history in ways even I couldn't predict.

Still lost in thought, I didn't notice the boy's growing unease until he spoke again.

C (worried):"Mister sword…? Why aren't you saying anything?"

He hesitated before suddenly becoming serious.

C:"We need to move. Now! There are bandits nearby—we have to get away!"

A spark of amusement flickered within me.

K:"Mister sword? I will have you know that the glorious me has an equally glorious name—"

Suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky above us, despite the clear weather.

K:"I am the great Kilineiram!"

For a brief moment, the gemstone on my hilt flashed crimson, filling the air with a crackling energy.

K:"And with me, you shall never fear mere bandits!"

But the boy's face didn't brighten at my declaration. Instead, his expression darkened.

C (grimly):"They aren't mere bandits. They attacked my village and…"

He trailed off, his hands gripping my hilt tightly.

Before I could respond, a heavy presence loomed behind us.**

A tall, gruff man stepped into view, his leather armor tattered but well-worn. A brutal scar ran down his left eye**, and behind him stood a group of hardened men, their weapons already drawn.

The bandit chief sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement.

Bandit Chief:"Well, well… what do we have here?"

I could feel Carlos's hands trembling. But I also felt something else—his grip tightening.

He wasn't going to run.

He was going to fight.

Good.

I hungered for battle.