"Out of everything you could express an interest in… you want this mess of a soul?" I sighed wearily as I eyed up my blade.
I wasn't expecting an answer or anything. I was just venting.
Imagine my shock, then, when a response came.
Compatible. Merging. It will strengthen me.
The thoughts were a little fuzzy, like the sword still struggled to push really complex ideas through, but the words ringing in my mind were accompanied by a whole host of impressions and meaning.
I understood.
The sword was linked directly to my soul. In fact, it was constantly being nourished by my soul, bathing in its attributes.
This link was what made the abomination I'd accidentally created, using my soul sliver, so appealing to my soul blade.
My sword needed to devour souls to get stronger. But it couldn't just slurp them down. You see, demonic physiology automatically purified any soul I devoured, separating memories and slowly assimilating them. Only when those corrupting influences were removed, and the soul was reduced to its bare essence, would I absorb it.
Similarly, if my soul blade was just gobbling up souls, it would get corrupted by the memories of said souls. I knew the sword was developing its own weird abilities to purify essence for safe consumption.
My soul, though? The soul which the sword's own burgeoning life was technically based on? It could devour that with no fear of incompatibility issues. No extra purification needed.
Still…
"No, you're not getting this soul right now. Let me finish! Sheesh, you're as impatient as Mia can be sometimes," I grumbled, gritting my teeth at the sudden onset of upset vibes from my blade. "It's not complete. There are still bits of the original soul in there, see? About ten percent. If you really think it will benefit you to devour this thing, then sure. But we do it right."
At that, I was inundated by nothing but happiness, driving me to sigh again as I dramatically rolled my eyes skyward.
I was now negotiating with my own sword to arrange a meal for it. A meal that was, essentially, a bloated, slightly mutated part of me.
Yay for my life.
"How much will this single soul help you, anyway? It's not anywhere close to large. Not compared to my own soul, or even the souls of most demons. He was just a recruit. Do you need me to try and replicate this?"
I got impressions of both reassurance and more hunger from the blade, paired with a layer of excitement. Enough excitement, in fact, that its words had devolved into a jumble of impressions.
But the meaning was clear. My sword thought more souls like this, which closely mimicked my own, would be more than welcome. The more the better.
Well…
In for a penny, and all of that. If I was going to feed my sword Very Weird treats, then I'd at least put the work in to secure it as much food as possible. If I was lucky, this would induce another round of mutations, and then my blade would evolve again.
I was entirely unsure if I could pull that off. Technically, my sword was already ranked higher than me. But I was willing to try.
"Speaking of, soul blade rankings are so weird. Clearly not based on your soul." I narrowed my eyes at the blade. "Your 'soul' is still forming. It's very small. I can't even properly perceive it unless I pay attention."
I might have been poking at the blade's pride a little, but frankly? The fact that I could see its soul forming and growing was kind of crazy. My sword was well and truly coming into sentience now. With its burgeoning, strengthening soul, no one could argue that it wasn't fully alive.
After all, according to most demonic definitions, you needed only two things to be classified as 'alive': a soul and a body. You didn't even need a mind. Add a mind, and you'd be classed as a sentient being in your own right.
I paused, tilting my head at the blade. "Wait… do you technically count as an imp now? I mean, you hit all the requirements to be classified as one, up to and including demonic mana… I guess you don't have a direct connection to the Abyss? But you do have one through me…"
I chuckled. For some reason, flustered embarrassment was radiating from my sword.
Tackle the tasks ahead of me first, make up wild theories concerning my sword's nature later.
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Then I frowned as a thought occurred to me. "Damn it. Where am I going to find more failed recruits to make abominations from? Am I supposed to hope for more rule-breakers now? Glaustro wouldn't be happy with that… ugh. Guess I'll go talk to him. Maybe he kept some around, for whatever reason."
Glaustro hadn't. Other than the few idiots I'd diverted for my own use, all others had been executed, with a citation added to their service records. It wouldn't disqualify them from getting accepted into the legion or anything, but it would make them less likely to score officer posts. After all, disobedience and stupidity weren't typically sought-after traits.
Then again, with the way Vallinach's troops tended to act? Maybe they were.
Ian growled, spittle flying from his jaws as he grew angrier and angrier. He automatically reached for his mana. Then the cuffs he was wearing glowed, and a pulse of magic tore through his body, cancelling his efforts easily.
He barely ducked away in time to dodge the droid's overlarge cleaver as it howled through the air. The chips and dents in the huge blade made what should have been a near-soundless strike a much louder affair.
Still, Ian persisted. He fought like a beast straight out of hell to reach the other side of the room. That's where Revilla was cowering behind a pile of rubble, desperately trying to avoid the barrage of suppressive fire bullets from a group of guards.
"Don't just give into your anger! Use it! Channel it! Let it flow through you. Anger makes you stronger," I called from where Mia and I were observing the fight, hovering above the battlefield.
The locals all startled and frantically tried to find me, buying the pair below a little bit of time to catch their breaths. Mia scoffed at the assistance I'd offered them, but I just smirked at her and opened my mouth. She deposited a bit of salted caramel popcorn onto my tongue, and I hummed in appreciation as I munched on the treat.
Below, Ian had found his footing, ignoring my reference to a movie he had no clue about. At least Mia got it now. Not that she was particularly amused by my needling, but still. It felt incredible to pull out some old reference to a life before this one and have someone catch on, even if it was to give me a gimlet eye.
Was it healthy that this only made me more desperate to never let Mia get away from me? Maybe not, but she didn't particularly care. After all, she had witnessed exactly how clingy I was, from inside my mind. She hadn't yet gone screaming for the hills.
Not that she could judge, considering how possessive she was herself.
"They're really doing remarkably well," I noted.
Revilla finally managed to sneak around the rubble. Leaving one of her swords behind, she peeked out just-so, then gutted two guards in quick succession.
Ian himself was finally demolishing the droid, some kind of 'ultimate murder bot' or whatever. The thing was meant to be the final line of defense for the facility we'd chosen to send the duo into.
It was a mid-sized facility this time, one dedicated to fuel and special resource development and testing. And though our apprentices had struggled mightily to clear it so we could retrieve the data, it looked like they were just about done.
They had gone into battle with several handicaps. First, we had sealed off their mana, forcing them to rely on their admittedly superior physiques. 'No mana' meant that things like bullets had gone from inconvenient to deadly. It also meant that certain technology, like advanced cybernetics and droids, were actually able to keep up with our apprentices. On rare occasion, even outperform them.
It was a good thing Mia had forced the elf to do so much body refinement. Without it, Revilla definitely would have died several times over.
Ian, meanwhile, was becoming an ever greater physical threat. He was a bit of a juggernaut, honestly. During this mission alone, he'd actually taken more than a few shots and shrugged them off. His wounds closed quickly, and bleeding stopped even quicker, though I could tell that the bullets left buried in his flesh were starting to really bother him.
Regardless, as long as none of his limbs got blown off or his brain was sent spilling out, he was more or less capable of pushing through anything. Seeing as he was dedicated to keeping his head protected, even at the cost of the rest of him, he was doing amazingly well. It also helped that his sword was large enough to double as a very flimsy shield.
However…
"I am not happy with how she's performed today," Mia groused, her angry eyes fixed on the elf. "She is letting her physical training lag behind her magical accomplishments more and more. This is your fault, you know?"
"How is that my fault?!"
"You keep teaching her!"
"Only because you're not doing it!"
"And did you ever stop to think maybe that was on purpose?"
"What possible purpose could you have to delay her mage training?"
"How about avoiding situations like this one?"
I opened my mouth, but clicked it shut in the end. She sort of had a point. Revilla had mostly cowered behind Ian and played the role of a very hesitant assassin. Not because she was reluctant to kill, mind you, but because she couldn't shrug off wounds anywhere near as well as the doggo. A couple good hits, and she'd either need healing or be out of the fight entirely.
"Fair. But! Keep in mind they have very different aptitudes. Sure, Ian is way better as a physical fighter, and Revilla's struggling to advance there, but he can't keep up with her magically, either. It might be better to let her specialize, Mia."
"I'm letting her specialize, okay?" She turned away from me. "But I'm not letting her neglect her physical training. What if someone disables her magic? What if she runs out of mana?"
"You know, we are not great at fighting without magic, either," I said gently, hugging Mia a little closer. I was already holding her princess-style, because she had the misfortunate condition of being land-bound (unlike my glorious flying self), so that mostly amounted to trying to squish her into me. "And we're doing fine."
"Yes, but we are demons. Even if someone can externally bind our ability to cast spells, there's not much that can disrupt our mana entirely."
"Except we recently came across that with the angels."
"I said there's not much that can do it, not that there's nothing." She was still grumbling cutely, but her cheeks were flushed. "Besides, we're mostly mana. That's different."
"Whatever you say, love."
I mean, far be it from me to accuse anyone of hypocrisy. We just wanted a better life for the next generation! Mia was totally not just a slave driver.
"You think they're ready?" I asked, drawing her attention back to the pair.
She eyed the duo, sighed, and nodded reluctantly. Really, for all her criticism, she was way more protective than I was.
"They are."
I grinned, and my smile was all teeth.
"Then let's arrange them a playdate with some spies, shall we?"