The Weight of a Sword — Chapter 40

Tiberku bit his lip, his big eyes fixed on the girl who had just come down from the door. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, but her appearance made him forget for a moment everything that had happened until then.

Renji flinched slightly. He could feel the mark pulsing on his neck, but his attention was drawn to Megan. Her clear gaze made him forget the pain. By contrast, the elf’s eyes shone with astonishment and a kind of fear mixed with respect. For him, the girl’s presence was something unexpected and at the same time reassuring.

Tiberku was the first to break the silence.

— “Eris… who is this girl? Don’t tell me she’s… your child?”

Eris blinked briefly, then crossed her arms.

— “You’re an idiot,” she replied without hesitation. “Do you really think Megan could be my daughter? Look at me, I’m far too young for that.”

Tiberku blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by his hasty question. Renji lowered his gaze for a moment, trying to hide a faint smile, while the elf turned his curious eyes from Megan to Eris, waiting for a clearer explanation.

Megan took two more steps down the stairs, calmly looking at each of them, without seeming confused by their reactions.

Renji slowly raised his gaze to Eris.

— “What did you mean by that, Eris? Why does it depend on me? And… who is Megan and what role does she play in all of this?”

Eris looked at him for a long moment, as if she were weighing each question.

— “I said it depends on you because I’m not the one who will decide who goes forward at your side. Megan has an important role, but she can’t be protected by me. If you want her to stay with you, you have to prove you’re capable of keeping her safe. If not, she stays here.”

Renji froze, feeling the weight of her answer. This wasn’t just a test, it was a responsibility.

Megan came down to the stone floor. She clasped her hands to her chest, her face slightly red. She slowly approached the group and tried to say something.

— “H-hi…” she whispered, looking at them in turn.

The elf watched her carefully. He stood up straighter and, although his voice was still trembling, he found the courage to respond.

— “You… you’re Megan? I’m glad to meet you. I… haven’t seen anyone like you in this part of the kingdom.”

Megan blinked several times and lowered her eyes. She tried a faint smile, but her shyness held her back.

— “Yes… that’s me…” she murmured.

The elf rubbed his hands nervously but continued with visible effort.

— “Could… could you tell me how you got here? Or… what you’re doing with Eris?”

Megan lifted her gaze slightly to him, unsure whether to answer or not, while Tiberku and Renji followed the exchange, feeling the oppressive silence in the basement begin to shift into a new curiosity.

Eris cleared her throat and stepped forward. Her green eyes pierced them all, and the silence in the basement broke.

— “Enough,” she said clearly. “There’s no point in putting Megan in difficulty.”

Megan flinched and clutched her hands even tighter, letting her gaze fall to the floor. The elf bit his lower lip lightly, realizing his questions were making her uncomfortable.

Eris continued her explanation, her tone firm but with a trace of sadness in her voice.

— “Megan lived with her aunt, who died in a battle against a demon. It was one of the fiercest confrontations humanity has seen. She and I were close friends, we supported each other through many hard moments.”

Tiberku’s eyes widened, and Renji held his breath. The elf took a small step back, surprised by the revelation.

Eris turned her head slightly toward Megan.

— “That’s why she’s with me now. I promised I’d take care of her. Not because I wanted to, but because it was her aunt’s last wish.”

Megan slowly raised her blue eyes, full of emotion, and bit her lip, trying not to cry. Her gaze flitted briefly between Renji, Tiberku, and the elf, then returned to Eris, as if only near her she found support.

Eris drew in a breath, and her tone turned cold again.

— “Megan isn’t just a shy girl. She’s a witch, but she’s still not very skilled. She lacks experience and discipline.”

Megan blushed instantly, taking a step back and lowering her gaze, almost ashamed of Eris’s words.

Tiberku blinked in surprise.

— “A witch? Her? But… she seems so… fragile.”

— “I seemed the same at her age,” Eris replied curtly. “Power isn’t measured by appearances.”

Renji fixed his gaze on Megan. For the first time since coming into the basement he felt something different, a curiosity mixed with hope.

Eris stepped toward them and continued:

— “That’s why I want her to go with you. She needs to improve, to learn how to master her magic in real conditions, not just under my protection. And at the same time, you will need her. The demon inside Renji cannot be held only by a seal. Megan can support you, even if she’s not at my level yet.”

The elf looked from Eris to Megan. His small eyes shone with both excitement and fear.

— “So… this means Megan will be the witch who helps Renji keep the demon under control?” he asked in a thin voice.

Eris nodded briefly.

— “Exactly. She’s not fully ready, but she’s the only choice we have now.”

Megan clasped her hands to her chest and swallowed hard.

— “I’ll try… I’ll do my best,” she said in a timid voice, but in it was a determination not to fail.

Renji clenched his fists and gathered his courage. He raised his gaze to Eris, his neck still burning from the seal, but determination rang in every word.

— “I need a sword and armor forged with demon blood. If I’m to have any chance against the one who destroyed my life, I have to be prepared. You can help me with that, can’t you, Eris?”

Eris looked at him in silence for a few moments. Her green eyes pierced him, but there was no compassion in them, only a cold calculation. Then she slowly shook her head.

— “No. Not me.”

Renji frowned, his lips pressed into a thin line.

— “But you have the knowledge, the magic, the experience… Why not?”

Eris stepped toward him, her voice sharp but with a clear intention to push him in another direction.

— “Because I don’t want to give you the power you’re talking about. It’s not my role to do that. If I were to create your weapons, you’d remain dependent on me. You’d learn nothing. Power gained through someone else’s hand means nothing when the time comes to use it alone.”

She turned abruptly to Megan, who flinched and clasped her fingers to her chest.

— “She will be the one to help you. Megan has witchcraft in her blood and the potential to work with demonic essence. She’s not at my level yet, but that’s exactly why she must take on this task. If you want a sword and armor with demon blood, you’ll depend on her. And she will have to learn to surpass her limits to succeed.”

Tiberku opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Eris’s look made him stop.

Renji fixed his eyes on Megan. She had flushed deeply and trembled, but in her blue eyes was a glimmer of determination.

— “I-it’s true,” Megan murmured, barely audible. “I’ve studied the rituals of blood-binding… but I’ve never really tried them. It’s dangerous. For you and for me. If I fail…”

Eris interrupted her sharply.

— “You won’t fail, Megan. You’ll learn. If you want to be more than an apprentice, if you want to prove you’re not just the girl I have to protect, then this is your chance.”

The elf blinked quickly, visibly tense.

— “This means… Renji’s fate and Megan’s training are linked now?”

Eris nodded briefly, without hesitation.

Renji drew in a deep breath, feeling the entire weight of his path now shifted onto both of their shoulders. Megan looked at him timidly but no longer lowered her eyes. She knew she had to face it, even though fear gripped her chest.

Tiberku cleared his throat and raised his hand like a student asking permission to speak.

— “Um… Eris… I have a simpler problem than Renji’s.”

Eris looked at him coldly.

— “Speak.”

— “I’ve run out of arrows. Completely. Since I was sent to escort Renji I’ve used them all. If we’re going to face long roads and fights… I need more. Can you make me some?”

Eris studied him for a few moments, then answered without hesitation:

— “Yes. Bring me ordinary arrows and demon blood. I can turn each arrow into a weapon capable of piercing their skin.”

Tiberku smiled with relief, almost delighted.

Renji blinked several times, then raised his voice indignantly:

— “Wait a second! You refused me outright, but for Tiberku you said yes instantly? How’s that fair? I ask for a sword and armor and get a lecture about responsibility, he asks for arrows and bam, he gets a yes?!”

Tiberku fidgeted, trying not to burst out laughing, but a chuckle escaped anyway.

— “Maybe because my request is simpler, Renji. Not everyone wants a sword and armor bathed in demon blood…”

The elf burst into a short, thin laugh, and Megan put her hand over her mouth, trying to hide her timid smile.

Eris looked coldly at Renji and raised an eyebrow.

— “If you want arrows, I’ll make you some too. But since you don’t use a bow, you’re left with Megan.”

Renji ran his hand through his hair, exasperated.

— “Great… I get the beginner witch, Tiberku gets luxury demonic arrows. It’s clear who’s the favorite here.”

Megan burst into a short laugh, this time unable to stop herself, which made Renji sigh even more deeply.

Renji shook his head, still frustrated, then turned his gaze back to Eris.

— “So, let me get this straight… I have to find a demon to get the blood, right? And that would just be the first step. The problem is this: even if Megan manages the ritual, I don’t have armor or a sword. I work at the inn almost all day. I don’t have time to go knocking at every blacksmith’s door in town to get weapons and armor made to order.”

Eris fixed him intently, without blinking.

— “Yes, you need demon blood. Not much, but enough for a binding ritual. As for the armor and sword, I won’t be the one to solve that problem for you.”

Renji crossed his arms and muttered.

— “Perfect… and where am I supposed to get armor and a sword if I don’t have time or money? Feels like everything’s on me while everyone else gets quick answers.”

Tiberku shrugged.

— “Maybe I should come with you to the blacksmith when we have time. We’ll work together so he sees you’re serious about what you talked about, and then Megan can try to transform the sword.”

The elf added in a sharp voice.

— “Or… you could work double shifts at the inn, save money faster. You’re kind of lazy, Renji.”

Renji frowned and looked at them with an offended air.

— “I’m not lazy, it’s just that the day still has only 24 hours and I can’t split myself between fighting demons and scrubbing tables at the inn.”

Megan dared to speak, her voice timid but serious:

— “Maybe… maybe I can help you too. Not just with the ritual. I can try to repair an old weapon or improve it. I’m not a blacksmith, but I’ve learned some incantations for metal. If it works, you won’t have to waste time with blacksmiths.”

Renji lifted his gaze, his black piercing eyes seeming to search for something unseen, something that existed only inside him. His breathing was heavy, and his hands clenched involuntarily.

— “You don’t understand… This isn’t just about a sword. It’s not a simple piece of metal or armor to protect me. I need my own sword. Exactly as I have it in my head, exactly as I feel it in every fiber of my being. It’s not just a weapon… it’s the memory of the one who made me believe I could exist, that I could fight, that I could have a purpose. And he too… took my life as I knew it. He made me grow, hope, move forward… and then destroyed everything in an instant.”

He stopped for a few seconds, breathing heavily, letting the silence press down on them. His eyes shone with fury and pain, but also with the determination not to be defeated.

— “Every battle I’ve fought, every suffering, every wound… it all ties back to that sword. It’s the only thing that can carry the weight of my loss and at the same time the hope I still have. Without it, everything we’re doing… without it, everything I’m trying to protect will have no meaning. If I’m going to face what’s coming, to face the demon inside me… I have to carry that sword. Not just any sword. Not someone else’s. Only mine.”

Renji clenched his fists, his gaze transforming from pain into a rigid, almost palpable resolve. Each breath seemed to pulse with his desire not to be defined by the past that had marked him, but by the power he himself would choose.