Beneath the sword.
“…”
“I told you, it likes to pee everywhere,” the sword spirit said flatly.
“Then… what you said before…”
Yvette spoke cautiously, afraid of upsetting the sword spirit.
“What did I say?”
Eleanor’s tone was playful, teasing the adorable girl.
“It’s just… my performance… are you… satisfied with it?”
Yvette stammered, her big, watery eyes blinking nervously, her tightly clenched fists revealing her tension.
The girl had experienced more than her peers and understood the harshness of reality.
The strong were driven by profit, and an ordinary girl like her, with no power or background, was utterly unworthy of such a mighty weapon.
But she really liked this sword, even if this powerful blade called itself a magic sword.
With this magic sword in hand, she had effortlessly defeated a sixth-tier twin-headed tiger.
Sixth-tier… her parents were only fifth-tier when they left her, and that was a magical beast.
Yet now, it had died so easily by her hand.
It felt like a dream, almost unbelievable.
Her right hand, gripping the sword’s hilt, trembled slightly.
Even in battle, she hadn’t shaken like this.
She was hopeful, yet afraid.
Yvette wanted this sword.
“Not bad, I suppose, but~~~”
As if on purpose, the soft, sweet voice paused at the critical moment, teasing yet perfectly tugging at Yvette’s heartstrings.
“…”
Seeing the girl fidgeting, her eyes gradually welling with tears, Eleanor dropped the teasing.
She wasn’t some cruel woman—just a bit of fun was enough.
“But you didn’t wipe my blade after the fight! I don’t like people who don’t cherish their weapons. Hurry up and clean me!”
“Uh?…”
The slave girl hadn’t quite processed it yet.
She dazedly raised the sword, looking around but finding no cloth to use.
In her panic, she pressed the flat side of the blade against her face to wipe it.
“Hey! What are you doing?! You’ll cut your face!”
Eleanor wasn’t a bad sword; she just wanted to tease the cute girl a little.
But the girl’s reaction seemed overly extreme.
“It’s… it’s okay, Yvette’s face doesn’t matter…”
“Arghhh—! How can there be a swordmaster as foolish as you?! If you can’t find a cloth, just hold me like this for now and wash me in a stream later.”
Eleanor suddenly felt a pang of regret.
This girl seemed so naive, completely unable to handle teasing.
A foolish swordmaster—she’d probably need a lot of guidance in the future.
“Swordmaster?”
Yvette still looked dazed, as if she hadn’t fully grasped it, or perhaps she’d never dared to hope for it from the start.
“That’s right! I’ve acknowledged you. Now thank me properly—I just saved your life!”
Eleanor spoke smugly, controlling the sword to float into the air and spin in a circle.
“And~! My name is Eleanor Lillian. You’re my swordmaster now, so just call me Eleanor from here on out!”
“Thank you, Teacher Eleanor!”
“Teacher? That works too, I guess.”
Eleanor seemed in high spirits.
The girl might be a bit dim, but her talent was impressive.
At the very least… when the twin-headed tiger unleashed its ultimate move, she didn’t dodge or defend but seized the moment to strike its vital point.
It was a rare combat style, yet it felt strangely familiar to Eleanor.
A hero?
No, why did she think of a hero?
That was odd… her mind felt a bit jumbled.
Something seemed to flash through her head, but when she tried to recall it, it was gone.
Forget it—thinking about it gave her a headache.
Better to focus on the white-haired loli in front of her.
White hair, blue eyes, resolute will, and the courage to draw her sword even when outmatched.
Could she be the descendant of some great figure?
Her family massacred, everyone in peril, betrayed and enslaved, only to escape during transport and, by a twist of fate, pick up a long-sealed top-tier magic sword like herself.
Incredible, truly incredible.
Miss Eleanor had already spun a legendary backstory for the slave girl!
She could even imagine the girl sneering one day, returning as a dragon king, and slaying the villains who destroyed her family in two swift strikes.
But such a story was a bit too melodramatic.
Casually fantasizing about someone’s background wasn’t exactly polite.
Besides, the little white-haired girl seemed quite naive.
She was already a bit slow, and here Eleanor was, spinning wild tales about her.
People like that would probably end up stuck in an early morning class.
Eleanor shook her head, tossing out the bizarre thoughts, and spoke cheerfully:
“Well then~ let’s work together from now on!”
Eleanor was as lively as ever, but the girl still seemed a bit dazed, reinforcing the idea that Yvette was a bit of a dummy.
But~~~
Turning a dummy into a master swordsman was far more interesting and challenging, wasn’t it?
“Teacher Eleanor, please… please guide me.”
In truth, Eleanor Lillian wasn’t exactly a proper magic sword.
Despite the name Lillian sounding like something a villainous noble lady would have, her vibe was far too wholesome.
Her gentle words, occasionally tinged with playful tones, and her thoughtful comforting of the girl’s low self-esteem didn’t match the image of a magic sword at all.
Aside from a slightly mischievous personality, she didn’t seem like a magic sword in the slightest.
So, what should a true, proper magic sword be like?
The bloodthirsty magic sword currently wailing at the heart of the Demon King’s castle might provide an answer.
“I want blood! Give me blood! Eighteen years old, and you still haven’t opened the Endel Maze?! What kind of useless Demon King are you? I want to kill, I want to drink blood! I’m starving!!!”
The one howling at the center of the Demon King’s castle was the previous Demon King’s sword—Bloodthirsty Magic Sword.
The Bloodthirsty Magic Sword kicked the current Demon King, who was sitting on the throne pretending to be regal, and pointed at her teary-eyed face, venting her dissatisfaction.
“You’re crying now, huh? The previous Demon King opened the Endel Maze and invaded the human world at fourteen!”
“How is it that you, at eighteen, are still hiding in the Demon King’s castle, so useless that even I’ve been stuck drinking stale blood for years? If I don’t get fresh blood soon, I’ll go mad!!!”
The Bloodthirsty Magic Sword, transformed into a 148cm loli, arrogantly tilted her chin, her polished boots clacking loudly on the throne.
“Lord… Sword, the humans… uh, it seems they’ve got a second legendary holy weapon. If I open the Demon King’s castle now, we… we might die.”
“A second legendary holy weapon?!!!”
“There are only two legendary holy weapons—me and the Holy Sword! Did they raid the dwarves’ homeland or something?”
“I… I don’t know… but… that’s what the Calamity Witch said,” the loli Demon King mumbled, head lowered, trembling.
“Hiss—”
Claire suddenly felt dizzy, as if her head had been struck twice with a hammer.
Two legendary holy weapons meant two heroes.
That was enough to flip the Demon King’s castle upside down, maybe even scatter their ashes.
“Investigate, now! Even a great Demon King like Charles could only match one hero evenly.”
“A weakling like you would get spanked by two heroes—maybe a man and a woman, one from the front, one from the back.”
“Look at your scrawny arms and legs—how long could you last, huh?”
Perhaps because Beryl seemed too weak, Claire’s tone grew less friendly.
“I’m… I’m sorry, I know I was wrong. I’ll go investigate now.”
The loli Demon King Beryl retreated trembling, leaving the Bloodthirsty Magic Sword Claire alone on the throne, stroking her chin, lost in thought.
Normally, a Demon King’s authority would surpass that of a magic sword, but this time was different.
This Demon King was too weak—
Due to Beryl’s overly timid nature, she only unified the demon realm at eighteen.
The previous Demon King had crushed the demon tribes and unified them at fourteen, then began invading the human world.
If it weren’t for Claire, the Bloodthirsty Magic Sword, pushing hard from behind, Beryl might never have unified the demon realm, let alone opened the Endel Maze to invade the human world.
Trapped, truly trapped. Claire had been a Demon King’s sword for so long, always carried by the Demon King, allowing her to slack off as a blade.
Who would’ve thought times would change, and with such a weak Demon King, it was up to her, the Bloodthirsty Magic Sword, to take charge.
Her side was weak enough, and the humans had two legendary holy weapons.
Forget Beryl—even the greatest Demon King in history would have to bend over willingly.
“Drives me mad, drives me mad, drives me mad!”
How did she end up in such a mess?
Furious, Claire stomped her polished boots.
The force of her stomps made the throne creak.
The Demon King’s throne, sturdy for generations, was sent flying by Claire’s kick.
Stone fragments fell, tumbling out the window, one piece coincidentally striking Beryl, who had just stepped out to handle business.
And then~~~
“Gwah—!”
Miss Demon King stood at attention.