The Demon King.

The title meant exactly what it said. The king of the Demons, ruler of Erebos, their homeland across the northern sea.

In those days, the Demons had invaded the continent amid the turmoil engulfing it. Unfortunately, the Sword Demon had not lived in the same era as the Demon King.

To be precise, a Demon King had existed during the Sword Demon's lifetime, but had not ventured onto the continent. According to history, the Demon King left Erebos and crossed the sea to reach the continent after the Sword Demon's death, when the empire had stabilized and peace was returning to the land.

Ruin Alastor, who had come to be called the Sword Saint, met the Demon King and his forces here in Vigrid, at the northernmost edge of the continent. The two drew their swords and fought a duel.

Neither emerged victorious. After fighting for days, the Sword Saint and the Demon King sheathed their swords.

The Dragon King, the elven queen, and the others who had witnessed the duel sat down to talk with the Sword Saint and the Demon King.

The Demon King promised not to invade the continent as before, and the Demons were accepted as part of it. And so their homeland, Erebos, crossed the sea and drew closer to the continent.

What on earth did that mean? Exactly what it sounded like. Erebos, far away across the sea—the enormous landmass housing the Demons' nation—had crossed the ocean to settle closer to the continent.

That had happened a full five hundred years ago. Keeping Erebos as their homeland, the Demons began exchanging with the continent, and the imperial emperor granted them a share of the islands off its northern tip. Now, in the present day, Demons were a fairly common sight anywhere on the continent.

“The Demon King's blade...”

Kyle murmured as he looked at Baal. The vicious, menacing cleaver seemed ideally shaped for slicing people to death. Now that he knew it was the Demon King's blade, he thought the description suited it perfectly.

“Why did the Demon King plant his blade here?”

“They say he left it for the founder as a declaration that he would remember him. Or perhaps it was the opposite—a request that the founder remember him.”

A sharp light shone in Katarina's golden eyes as she stared at Baal.

“The founder had long since broken his own sword and kept only Fenris by his side. They say the Demon King wanted the founder to have Baal, but the founder refused. And so Baal was planted in the Sword Tower's garden.”

“Did the Demon King say that himself?”

“No. That is the speculation of later generations.”

Katarina shook her head.

“Why the Demon King suddenly visited Gladiheim, what he discussed with the founder, and why he planted Baal here before departing—he left no explanation for any of it.”

“...”

“But the founder did call Baal, planted here, a sword worth remembering. Though he never did keep it by his side.”

The corners of Kyle's mouth twitched. It pleased him to know that Fenris alone had remained at Ruin's side to the very end.

“So in the end, no one knows why this blade is planted here.”

“Correct. There are no historical records. But it is true that Baal was the beginning of the Sword Garden.”

The Demon King had planted his blade and departed, and Ruin Alastor had left Baal where it was, calling it a blade worth remembering. Afterward, a tradition arose in Gladiheim of planting the weapons of memorable retainers and adversaries here, and the garden was named the Sword Garden.

“Why was a sword with so much history hidden away?”

“Because it is dangerous.”

Katarina answered without hesitation.

“Unlike Fenris, Baal is a true demonic sword. It beguiles people—swordsmen in particular—and tempts them to take it in hand. Those who yield to that temptation and grasp Baal lose their reason and are consumed by murderous intent.”

Katarina stroked Lucia's shoulder. Lucia, who had been gazing at Baal with hazy eyes, startled and regained her clarity.

“Without a steadfast heart, you will succumb to Baal's temptation. It would be safer to pull it out and put it somewhere no one could see it... But as I said, Baal is a sword with considerable symbolic significance. We cannot simply remove it, so we concealed it from sight and sealed it instead.”

“Sealed...”

“Baal remains sealed even now. Though you cannot see it.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes at Baal. Just as Katarina said, he could see no sign of a seal on it.

“How did you discover Baal?”

Her gaze prickled against the back of his head. Glancing behind him, he saw Katarina still resting a reassuring hand on Lucia's shoulder, her eyes as sharp as a sword point.

“The head of the house may favor you, but he would never have told you about Baal. Did Arian tell you, perhaps?”

“Baal was looking at me.”

Kyle answered honestly.

“That's all. It's not as though I'm forbidden from entering the Sword Garden.”

“Purebloods may go anywhere in Gladiheim. But Baal... was looking at you?”

Katarina frowned and turned her gaze to Baal.

“Has the seal weakened? That should not be possible...”

“It has nothing to do with the seal. It's just, um, I suppose you could say the goblin was looking at me?”

Kyle tilted his head as he murmured, and Katarina fell silent for a moment. The unusual talent of her newly arrived nephew. A gift for spirits that resembled Arian's—no, that was different even from Arian's.

“Does Baal have a goblin attached to it as well?”

“It's an old sword, isn't it?”

Five hundred years old at the very least. And it was not merely old; it had belonged to the Demon King. Even Fenris, the Sword Demon's favored blade, had a goblin dwelling in it. There was no reason Baal should not.

“I do not know precisely what form your gift takes. But do not touch Baal.”

“Why?”

“You ask the obvious. Because it is dangerous.”

Katarina's voice grew sterner.

“Were you not listening? Unlike Fenris, Baal is a true demonic sword.”

“I heard everything you said, Aunt. But has anyone actually lost their mind after holding that blade?”

“Yes.”

She had misrepresented the Demon King's intentions with the speculation of later generations, so Kyle had wondered whether this might be more of the same. But Katarina answered without a moment's hesitation.

“After the founder ascended to heaven, more than ten people fell for Baal's wiles, grasped its hilt, and lost their minds. Among them were even members of Alastor's collateral branches and purebloods.”

“I see.”

It seemed she was not lying. Kyle nodded and looked at Baal again.

Could a sword really bewitch someone and drive them mad? Since the Demon King himself had wielded it, perhaps it could. Legends of demonic swords that bewitched people and drove them mad with bloodlust had been common even five hundred years ago.

'Even Fenris, which used to be an ordinary sword, has a goblin now. I suppose demonic swords can be real too.'

But...

'I don't think I'd go mad...'

That was how he felt. Kyle—the Sword Demon—was too familiar with swords, loved them too much, to go mad simply from holding one. He had cut down countless people in his past life, and none of those deeds had been committed because a sword drove him insane.

“Do not touch Baal.”

Katarina warned him again. She had noticed her young nephew's eyes sparkling as though he had discovered a wonderful new toy.

She cherished and nurtured gifted children. All the more so when the child was her younger sister's son, a nephew favored by the head of the house. But she had no intention of indulging him in everything. The greater his gifts, the more strictly he needed to be taught.

“I won't touch it. I'll just look.”

Despite that answer...

'Hey.'

Kyle addressed Baal in his mind. He focused intently on the talent dwelling within this body—the talent that had drawn the goblin out of Fenris and sensed the gazes of the Sword Garden's weapons. It was like trying to sense and move a limb that did not exist in a human body, such as a tail or wings.

'You were the one who looked at me first. Why are you just sitting there?'

It had come on to him first, yet now it refused to say a word. For the Demon King's blade, was it surprisingly shy? Kyle glared at Baal as that thought crossed his mind.

'At least say something...'

THUMP.

THUMP. THUMP.

His heart began to pound of its own accord. It was exactly like when he had seen the wolf in Fenris. The scenery around him wavered. He could no longer feel Katarina's piercing gaze, while the gazes within the Sword Garden felt all the more intense.

Blood-red mist rippled around Baal. Red filled the long fuller running down its silver blade. Soon, the color spread across the entire blade like winding veins.

Already sinister, the blade grew even more hideous. Then an eye appeared at its center.

A yellow slit cut through a pitch-black eye. Baal's eye stared at Kyle.

[“I have heard enough of this absurdity.”]

Baal's voice reverberated inside Kyle's head.

[“When have I ever tempted inferior creatures such as you? It was you inferior creatures who crept here, craving power or recognition, and seized me of your own accord.”]

“This one can talk, too.”

Kyle murmured in surprise. He could not sense Katarina's presence. As with Fenris, he was now resonating with Baal. No one else could hear this conversation.

[“Whelp.”]

Baal's eye flashed. A terrifying surge of murderous intent poured from its gaze and crashed over Kyle.

[“Convey my words to that inferior female. Tell her I have never tempted inferior creatures such as yourselves.”]

“Liar. Lucia's eyes went all hazy when she looked at you.”

[“If you mean that half-breed tainted with inferior blood, that was not my intention. The superior blood mingled within the half-breed was drawn to me.”]

“So you've never tempted a human?”

[“You approach and seize me of your own accord, then become drunk on power and lose your reason. That is due to your own inferiority, not any trickery of mine.”]

“So it is true that holding you makes people go nuts.”

[“All because you are inferior.”]

“What makes you so great that you get to call everyone else inferior?”

[“How dare you...”]

Neither gender nor age could be discerned from Baal's voice. But the anger in it was unmistakable.

[“Why are you unharmed? Even bound as I am...”]

Baal soon asked. It had realized that despite the murderous intent it had just unleashed, the child before it had not so much as changed color, let alone pissed himself.

“I'm used to murderous intent.”

Kyle answered indifferently. He certainly understood why Baal was a demonic sword now. It could unleash this much murderous intent without even being pressed to someone's throat. Anyone with an ordinary mind would be consumed by it and go mad simply from grasping Baal.

But Kyle did not possess an ordinary mind.

[“Used to it? A child as young as you? Impossible. Not one of those inferior creatures so full of themselves remained sane while holding me.”]

“How much mental fortitude could you expect from morons who thought picking up a new sword would make them stronger or earn them recognition?”

Kyle scoffed derisively. Baal fell silent for a moment, then gave a mocking laugh.

[“Whelp. Do you not covet me yourself? Is that not why you...”]

“Get your facts straight. Did I come on to you first? You came on to me. You kept staring at me.”

Kyle looked around. Beyond the blood-red mist born of his resonance with Baal, he could feel the gazes of the Sword Garden's weapons.

“And it's not just you. All these guys are looking at me.”

[“Whelp, it is you who must get your facts straight. You were the one who first set foot in this ridiculous garden. And you were the one who roused me with that strange aura you exude.”]

“So what? You're saying I came on to you first?”

[“What are you?”]

Baal's eye narrowed.

[“You are of the same inferior race as the others, yet you exude a peculiar quality. Has my master finally sent an emissary to reclaim me?”]

“You really weren't listening to what was going on out there. I'm this family's youngest grandson.”

[“...”]

“Listening to you, I suppose I might have come on to you first. But I didn't mean to, so just keep that in mind.”

With that, Kyle turned around. He had confirmed what he wanted to know. This body possessed an affinity with goblins, and the weapons in the Sword Garden had goblins of their own. He did not know whether that was true of every weapon, but for now, this was enough.

[“Wait.”]

As Kyle started to leave through the blood-red mist, Baal hastily stopped him.

[“You do not intend to take me in hand?”]

“My aunt told me not to.”

[“Why should you heed the words of an inferior female?”]

“Why? Do you want me to?”

Kyle grinned back at Baal. The eye on its blade opened wide.

[“Whelp. You are rather special. How old are you?”]

“Five.”

[“Five... years... So young. Not even old enough to have awakened your spiritual root...”]

“How does something that's been stuck here for five hundred years know about spiritual roots? Did the other goblins tell you?”

[“...”]

Baal simply gazed at Kyle without answering. Kyle took its silence as confirmation. They had been planted in the Sword Garden for five hundred years, so apparently they communicated with one another.

[“You are too immature to wield me yet. But your inferior race ages and grows quickly. When the time comes, I shall permit you to take me in hand.”]

“No thanks.”

[“What?”]

Baal's eye widened, as though rejection had never even occurred to it.

[“Whelp. What did you just say? No?”]

“Yep.”

[“Why? Do you not know what I am? I am Baal. My master is...”]

“If I pick you up...”

Kyle's eyes curved in a teasing smile.

“Grandfather will scold me. So will my aunt.”

[“For such a paltry reason...!”]

“And you're way too arrogant. Maybe if you begged me to wield you right now, I'd consider it. But what was that? When the time comes? Sorry, but I don't need a stuck-up sword.”

The best sword was one that fit snugly in the hand and moved exactly as its wielder wished. Something so haughty and self-important was not to Kyle's taste.

'Fenris is an exception. That damned mutt was my sword to begin with.'

For now, it had become a bastard of a dog that dared refuse to bow and scrape before its master, biting Kyle's arm and body instead. But once this body matured and he corrected its manners, it would be an obedient sword again, just as before.

[“Wait...! Whelp, do not go!”]

“I'll probably visit the Sword Garden often. If I feel like it, I'll talk to you then.”

Still, well...

It was not as though he had no interest in Baal. He disliked its conceited prattle, but it did possess a will of its own as a goblin. If he tamed it someday, perhaps he could learn about the swordsmanship of its original master, the Demon King.

That thought made Kyle's heart race with excitement. Not right now, of course. Even if he learned it, he could not use it yet. He had no confidence this body could handle it, either. And he would need Julius's permission.

'Once I've proven myself worthy, I should be able to wield Baal too.'

With that thought, Kyle pushed through the red mist. It scattered.

Beyond it, he saw many eyes watching him. The Sword Garden's weapons. Goblins of different forms from Baal were entwined around them, staring intently at Kyle.

'I could learn from those guys too.'

He really was glad to have reincarnated. Once again, Kyle revisited the thought he had had so many times before.

When he emerged, scattering the last of the mist, Kyle blinked.

Just as he thought. Once again, his mind had left his body to resonate with Baal. He gave an awkward smile to Katarina, who was directly in front of him at eye level, her eyes wide.

“Aunt? What's wrong?”

“What did you just do?”

“Did... something happen?”

“Baal emitted a blood-red glow.”

Katarina's hand clamped tightly around Kyle's shoulder.

“And you were staring at Baal with vacant eyes. Have you... fallen under its spell?”

“We did talk a little.”

“You... talked? You have fallen under its spell!”

“No, I haven't... It was just an ordinary conversation. I teased it a bit.”

“What does that...”

“Baal asked me to tell you something. It says it's never tempted anyone. People just grabbed it on their own and went mad, and it resents being blamed.”

“What?”

Katarina's lips parted. Then she bit her lip and slapped Kyle across the cheek.

“Snap out of it! You must not let Baal beguile you!”

She had slapped him... out of nowhere. And it hurt quite a lot. Rubbing his stinging cheek, Kyle looked up at Katarina with deeply aggrieved eyes.

“I'm not under its spell. I'm perfectly fine.”

“What you just said was not perfectly fine!”

How was he supposed to prove he was sane? After a moment's thought, Kyle addressed Katarina with a serious expression.

“Aunt. All right, so please let me go for a moment.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Prove that I haven't gone mad.”

“What does that...”

“If you don't trust me, hold my hand and take me closer to Baal.”

“Closer to Baal...! You really have lost your...”

“Aunt.”

She had seemed so cold on the outside. Surprisingly, Katarina appeared to be quite the worrier. Kyle fixed her with a firm, direct gaze.

“Please believe me.”

Her nephew, with whom she had barely exchanged words, was looking at her so earnestly. After a moment's hesitation, Katarina nodded. Taking Kyle's hand, she approached Baal cautiously.

“How exactly do you intend to prove...”

Before Katarina could finish, Kyle abruptly kicked Baal's blade.

CLANG!

His bones and muscles, strengthened by elixirs, delivered a heavy blow quite unlike a child's. But Baal was embedded deep in the ground and merely shook violently without falling over.

CLANG!

Kyle kicked Baal again. Katarina stared wide-eyed at the blade quivering under his kicks.

CLANG!

Only after Kyle kicked Baal once more did Katarina recoil in horror and yank him away by the arm.

“Y-you...! What are you doing...!”

“I haven't gone mad.”

Kyle spoke calmly.

“Do you believe me now?”

It occurred to him that this might give her even more reason to question his sanity. Fortunately, Katarina merely opened and closed her mouth, no longer doubting his state of mind.

“My cheek hurts where you hit me.”

“That...”

With a short sigh, Katarina covered Kyle's left cheek, the one she had struck, with her hand.

“I'm sorry.”

It was a brief but sincere apology.