What the hell was that?

Kyle stood blankly facing the wolf, casting his mind back.

Fenris. A trophy from his final battle as commander of the Crow Mercenaries, when he had wiped out House Robert. The grief-stricken head of the house had told him it was a dwarf-forged sword.

He had never sought out a dwarf to ask, so he had no way of knowing whether that was true. But Fenris had been sharp and sturdy enough to make the claim entirely believable.

Even without using aura, he could cut through most knights, armor and all. He could also exchange blows with aura-clad weapons without using aura himself. It could even stand up to magic, which had been rare five hundred years ago. Fenris had unquestionably been a superb sword.

But that was all. It had possessed no other special abilities. Even in those days, enchanted swords had existed, albeit in exceedingly small numbers, but Fenris had not been that sort of special sword.

Just a sharp, sturdy sword. A sword he had favored for eighteen years. A sword that had never once broken despite the brutal, idiotic routine of fighting every single day. A sword that had never known defeat, save in his battle against Ruin Alastor.

'Because I got revenge whenever I lost.'

At any rate, that was the sort of sword it had been. It had never come with a useless ability like this one—spewing black mist and producing a wolf.

'Or... did it develop some ability I don't know about over the past five hundred years?'

With that thought, he tried to approach Fenris, only for the pitch-black wolf to growl and bar his way.

"..."

He called it a wolf, but the thing before him looked nothing like an ordinary one. Rather than fur, its body was covered in blades jutting out at sharp angles. Its narrow eyes were vicious and menacing. The things filling its snarling mouth looked less like teeth than blades hanging upside down, and its claws were blades as well.

In short, what stood before Kyle was like a mass of blades in the shape of a wolf. He had never seen a monster like it, either as Kyle or as Raikal five hundred years ago, so he held still and stared at it.

"What are you?"

As he opened his mouth to ask, something felt off. He was sure he had spoken aloud, yet it did not feel as though he had made a sound. It was like speaking in a dream.

"What are you doing attached to my sword?"

Despite that odd sensation, Kyle asked again. He did not know whether the fucking mutt could understand human speech, but the way it kept blocking him from Fenris was making his blood boil.

GRRR...

The mutt growled again. Whatever it was so unhappy about, it scraped furiously at the ground with its bladelike claws.

"Get lost, you fucking mutt."

Kyle spat out the words and strode toward Fenris. At that instant, the mutt sprang off the ground. It leaped up, jaws gaping, and lunged to tear into him.

Kyle hurriedly tried to dodge, but it moved too quickly for him to see and react. No, it was not so much fast as—it was not moving like a wolf. Absurd as it was, Kyle sensed a sword in the mutt's movements.

CRUNCH!

The mutt—the sword—bit into Kyle. He stared down, wide-eyed, at the creature with his entire torso caught in its jaws. Teeth—blades—far too vicious for a five-year-old's body to withstand were buried in his trunk, yet no blood flowed.

But the pain was horrific. For an actual five-year-old, screaming would hardly have been the end of it; dying of shock would not have been surprising. Kyle, however, did not scream. He might have spent the five years since his reincarnation growing up showered in Arian's affection, but his mind was still accustomed to this kind of pain.

"Don't tell me..."

Kyle spoke with his mouth hanging open. Even as he thought it impossible, he voiced the idea that had come to him.

"Are you Fenris?"

In that movement reminiscent of a sword strike, Kyle had sensed none other than his former self. Raikal, the Sword Demon. But Kyle himself was Raikal, which left only one possible explanation.

GRRR...?

The wolf chewing on Kyle's torso raised its eyes. Each movement of its jaws and teeth brought a peculiar pain. It felt as though his soul, not his flesh, was being chewed. Perhaps that was not merely a feeling, but what was actually happening.

The ferocity faded from the wolf's eyes as it looked up at him. Its eyes widened, and it released his torso. Apparently, chewing, tearing, and tasting had let it recognize his soul.

"You really are Fenris!"

He still thought it impossible, but on second thought, could it really be any more impossible than reincarnation? Kyle cried out with a radiant grin.

"You bastard! What the hell happened to you? Why has a sword turned into a wolf?"

The wolf edged backward. The hostility had vanished from its eyes, but not its wariness. It stared at Kyle with its blade-sharp tail held stiff and level and its ears pricked upright.

"Hey! Don't you know who I am? I'm..."

Kyle, who had been about to shout in delight, caught himself and stopped. Introducing himself as Raikal could put him in an awkward position. Yet when he looked around, neither Arian nor Julius nor anyone else was anywhere to be seen. He was alone with the wolf in the midst of the pitch-black mist.

'What is this... some kind of magic?'

Tilting his head, Kyle looked down at himself. Several gruesome holes riddled the torso the wolf had just chewed on, yet neither blood nor entrails spilled out.

Apparently, this was not his actual body. That strange, dreamlike sensation was still there. Was this some sort of mental attack? With that thought, Kyle plopped down on the ground.

"Hey, Fenris. Come here."

Dogs were useful animals in all sorts of ways, and he had raised plenty during his mercenary days. The first thing that mattered when connecting with a dog was getting down to its eye level.

"Looks like you don't recognize me. If you're not sure, come have a sniff. You can give me a little bite, too."

Kyle held out his arm as he spoke, but the wolf did not readily approach. He could not read its expression, but he could roughly guess what it was feeling from its demeanor.

It seemed less that the wolf did not recognize him than that it was unsure. Kyle scowled and got to his feet.

"If you won't come to me, I'll just have to come to you."

As Kyle strode toward it, the wolf's tail shot upright and its ears flattened backward. At the same time, its lips curled back, exposing sharp teeth.

GRRR...

It was such blatant hostility that even an idiot could recognize it. Kyle thumped his chest in frustration and shouted.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

The instant he ignored the warning and reached out, the wolf moved. With a motion reminiscent of a sword strike, it viciously knocked aside his outstretched hand.

SLASH!

No, it had cut it off. Kyle's eyes widened as he watched his right arm fall away with appalling ease.

"You son of a—"

WOOF!

The wolf barked before Kyle could finish his curse. The black mist all around him roiled, and his vision distorted before crumbling away.

"Bi—"

THUD.

All the strength drained from Kyle's body, and he landed on his backside where he stood.

"Kyle!"

Arian's urgent voice rang in his muffled ears. She rushed over and pulled him into her arms.

In the warm comfort of his mother's embrace, Kyle first checked his right arm. The arm the wolf had severed was still attached and unharmed, and his torso, which had been bitten full of holes, was perfectly intact too.

He blinked and looked ahead. Fenris was embedded in the floor of the Hall of Sword Pinnacles, and beside it stood Julius, not the pitch-black wolf.

"What... did I just do?"

"You stopped of your own accord while approaching Fenris."

Julius answered, his startled golden eyes flicking toward the sword.

"Fenris also began trembling on its own, as though resonating with your approach. After that, you stood motionless before it for several minutes. When I tried to come closer, Arian blocked my way and insisted I mustn't touch you."

"I don't know what happened to me."

"Arian would know, I imagine. She even raised her voice at her own father."

At Julius's grumbling, Arian cleared her throat and hugged Kyle tightly.

"Kyle. Mom has an idea what might have happened, but I can't be certain without knowing exactly what you experienced. So will you tell me what just happened to you?"

"I saw... a wolf."

"A wolf?"

"Yes. As I was approaching that sword... Fenris, my heart suddenly started pounding... and black mist came swirling in. Then a wolf appeared."

Kyle explained what he had just experienced as fully as he could. Surprise filled Julius's eyes once more, while joy lit Arian's face.

"My goodness, my goodness...! Kyle, you just... communed with a spirit!"

"A spirit...?"

"Yes! Even Mom is having trouble figuring out how to explain something so incredible... But listen carefully, Kyle. Spirits don't dwell only in elements like wind, water, or fire. They can also be born in old objects that have been cherished or worshipped, or that carry powerful emotions."

Looking utterly overwhelmed by how precious she found him, Arian hugged his head tightly to her.

"Spirits that inhabit objects like that are also called goblins, and they're even harder to commune with than the spirits people normally think of. They're fiercely independent, so it's difficult to form contracts with them, too..."

Still stroking Kyle's head, Arian paused for a moment.

"Hmm... To be honest, Mom doesn't even know if it's possible to form contracts with those spirits. I've often been told I have a genius's aptitude as a spirit mage, but I've never once communed with a spirit dwelling in an object. Even just now, I couldn't see how you were communing with the spirit at all."

"..."

Kyle blinked blankly, then looked at Julius.

"Grandfather, when you held Fenris earlier... did you feel anything unusual?"

Rather than answer, Julius grasped Fenris and pulled it out of the floor.

"Nothing at all."

With that, he planted Fenris back in the floor. Kyle stared blankly for a moment before wriggling to get out of Arian's arms.

"Mom, let me go for a moment."

Once free of her embrace, Kyle approached Fenris again.

A tingling sensation ran through him...

His skin prickled and his heart pounded as before. But Kyle paid no attention, looking straight at Fenris as he approached. This time, neither the black mist nor the wolf appeared.

That allowed him to test the phenomenon. Focusing on that sensation would begin the same "communion" as before, but if he ignored it instead, he could approach Fenris without communing.

"..."

Standing before Fenris, Kyle stared blankly for a moment, then reached for its hilt.

GRRR...

A wolf's savage growl echoed in his ears. If he could hear that even without communing, it must really hate the idea of being held.

"..."

Kyle stared at Fenris in disbelief. The pitch-black sword was far too large for a five-year-old boy to wield. The blade alone was as long as Kyle was tall.

"Mom. It... the wolf, I mean. When I tried to get close, it bit into me. What does that mean?"

"Hmm..."

Arian tried to choose her words carefully so as not to hurt her young son's feelings, but Julius, standing beside Fenris, spoke with a chuckle.

"It seems it doesn't want you to hold it."

"Father!"

"Why are you trying so hard to mince words? If something is clear, you should say it plainly."

Julius chuckled and rested a hand on Kyle's head. Unlike Arian's, this was a swordsman's hand, covered in calluses, and it ruffled Kyle's hair. Arian had bristled, but the sight robbed her of her anger.

Her father, who had always seemed so rigid and cold, was stroking his grandson's head. It was a tremendous shock not only to Arian, but even to Cartan.

Kyle himself, however, could not enjoy his grandfather's touch.

'You don't want me to hold you? You?'

In truth, he had not even needed to ask Arian. But having it confirmed directly by a spirit practitioner like her left Kyle deeply shocked.

Fenris was the Sword Demon's sword.

Kyle was the Sword Demon's reincarnation.

Fenris must have sensed that. And yet—even so, Fenris had rejected his touch.

What on earth did that mean?

'Are you saying I'm not worthy of wielding you as I am now?'

Kyle clenched his teeth and glared wide-eyed at Fenris.

"..."

Looking at Fenris, which was taller than he was, Kyle decided to concede the point for now.

His five-year-old body was simply far too small to wield it.