Magical weapons have their own magic power, and can hurt people even without the blade.
Ryougi Shiki, whose finger was injured, was not angry but happy, and her gender-neutral face showed undisguised eagerness:
"It is indeed a good sword, better than I thought. It is completely different from the Kyuji Kanesada. It is decided. You are my sword!"
"No, wait. No, no, no, this is a failure!"
Seeing Shi's firm attitude, the old man's nonchalant attitude finally fell apart.
"You, I won't say anything harsh, but you'd better not use this one. At worst, I can forge another one for you."
"No need, this is it!"
The rainbow light in Shiki's eyes was unprecedentedly brilliant, almost overflowing. At the moment when her momentum reached its peak, the cut hand reached out again. The magic knife also began to tremble at the same time.
"Hello!"
The old man rushed forward to stop him, but he pulled back as soon as he took one step.
"Huh?"
As a legendary swordsmith who can forge a magic sword, the old man sees the world very differently from others.
He could see the spirit residing on the magic knife rushing towards the bleeding hand like a violent storm, as if it would not be satisfied unless it completely crushed it.
Facing such violent spirits, the slender hand just waved lightly. Surprisingly, the seemingly casual wave successfully defeated the swarming spirits, just like the arrow that took the general's head from the army, instantly disintegrating the swarming spirit army.
From then on, the spirit lost its previous sharpness and returned to the blade in a mess. And the unruly demonic sword also lost its aura of keeping strangers away, allowing Ryougi Shiki to touch, hold, and even swing it.
"The Demon Sword has been tamed?"
Shirou's eyes almost popped out when he saw Ryougi Shiki posing in various postures in the yard.
"Yes, it's not a disguise, it's really tamed. I was wrong, I didn't expect that someone could really get used to death. I still don't have enough practice."
The old man first sighed sadly, then spoke happily.
"You were able to tame it, which means you are destined to be with it. It is yours. Shirou, go make a scabbard."
"Yes, Master."
"Thank you, old man."
A feminine smile appeared on the genderless face, and the woman holding the magic knife exuded a presence stronger than anyone else at this moment.
"What's the name of this knife?"
"Higankiri Muramasa." The old man thought for a moment and answered.
"What a name! A magic sword that cuts through the wall of the underworld and leads to the other side. There is no weapon more suitable for me than this."
Ryougi Shiki closed her eyes as if she was sleepy, and nodded as if she understood.
"I see, something that shouldn't be here, go to the other side!"
The hand holding the knife was raised, Ryougi Shiki stepped on the edge of the knife barrel, jumped high, riding the wind and facing the moon.
The loose kimono dances under the moonlight like a beautiful flying bird.
The brightly colored flowers on the kimono swayed in the wind, looking as if they came alive and bloomed in the air.
Also blooming is the knife in the woman's hand. In the woman's eyes, in the fragmented world, the knife light blooms.
Along one of the cracks, a trace that shouldn't be there was blooming.
That was the flash of the netherworld sword released from the other shore, bringing peace to all living beings, just like the name of the devil sword: Higan Qiri.
Just like the name of a woman, she wanders between life and death, constructing the Yin-Yang style.
The beauty that existed in the world of the living but was close to death shocked the hearts of everyone present, and also shocked a man several hills away.
Even though the moonlight was very bright tonight and there was nothing obstructing it, the man still looked like a dark shadow. No, not a like, he was simply the shadow itself—a pitch-black mass that outlined the man's contours.
In that darkness, there were only two eyes of pure rationality, flashing coldly like emotionless weapons.
The man's body shook, and one of his eyes split open along the pupil, oozing black blood.
The man stretched out his hand and covered his eyes, the remaining half of his face still as cold and hard as a machine.
"The last one was killed, and the connected eye was also destroyed. It is incomprehensible."
"Of course you can't understand. The concept of chaos has seriously affected your thinking. I really didn't expect you to give up yourself for that - Foabro Lowen."
Similar voice, but different tone. The man was not talking to himself, but to another man who looked very similar to the former in terms of clothing, height and body shape, like a twin.
The difference is that the man's face is very clear and not so cold. The corners of his mouth are slightly raised, and his slightly sarcastic tone is filled with an emotion called joy.
The man called Fuabro did not waver at all, and continued to speak coldly: "The life species that pursued immortality has already sunk into the 'Original Sea' and has become a part of this existence. The remaining intellect will gradually disappear and become a specimen of the life 'species' together with this group."
"Won't you regret it? This is contrary to the original meaning of your existence."
"Indeed, life that has become like this has lost the so-called 'meaning of existence'. But don't you think this is wonderful? In my body, there is a chaos that is 'changing into something unknown'. This is a small world of the 'primordial sea' that can be compared to the 'beginning of creation'. This is a chaos where no one knows what kind of creatures will be born. This is a dark chaos that has the potential for unimaginable drastic changes, just like the system tree on this planet. But what will happen in the end? I must see it with my own eyes before I disappear."
At the end of the conversation, Foabro's inorganic eyes finally showed some human emotions. That emotion was called persistence, which was the driving force that supported him to where he is today.
"It seems that it is quite right for the church to call you Nero Chaos." The happy man continued to say happily, "You are a person who uses the six hundred and sixty-six wild beasts rolling inside your body as weapons. It is better to say that you are a 'group' rather than an individual. Compared with a vampire, you are more like a chaotic space. You are a veritable 'chaos' and a wanton heretic."
While speaking, Nero Chaos had already put down his hands that were covering his eyes, and the damaged eye was restored to its original state unknowingly. The man named Chaos rolled his eyes and focused his gaze on his old friend.
"Isn't this the same for you, Roa? You are the 'infinite reincarnation' who abandons the body and reaches the eternal realm of the soul."
"No, I have not reached true eternity."
"But you previously..."
Roa's answer made Nero Chaos a little confused. This was not what he said when they met two hundred years ago.
"That's because I didn't know there were such eyes in this world. I always thought they were just distant myths and legends. The eyes that can see the most vulnerable parts of things, the eyes that exist specifically for 'death' - the 'Mystic Eyes of Death Perception'. Whether it's your 'chaos' or my soul, they are vulnerable when reflected in such eyes."
PS: It is better to say something first, because most book friends don't know much about "Tsukihime". Roa's is not actually the "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception", but another kind of Mystic Eyes that is very similar. Of course, because the "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception" only exists in mythology, Roa's Mystic Eyes also have some of the characteristics of the "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception", so it is natural to misunderstand.