“Serves you right.”
“….”
Watching that scene was oddly entertaining. In a way, seeing Krius bicker with Adolf was a decent distraction.
“Since it looks like the evil spirit smiled thanks to it, I’ll give you bonus points.”
Adolf began lining up the weapons in order.
‘What are they planning to do with those…?’
At that, Krius cautiously opened his mouth.
“Ahem. As you saw last time, that flamberge was a Crimson weapon I personally modified.”
“Oh, really? It was quite impressive. Thanks to it, I even lost consciousness.”
“I–I’m sorry.”
Krius bowed his head again.
“That’s enough. Explain it again.”
“My father was a blacksmith renowned across the world. That flamberge is a masterpiece created by applying the techniques I learned from him exactly as they were.”
“A complete fake.”
Adolf cut in from the side. Despite the remark, Krius remained calm.
“Well, technically, that’s true. It was made by imitating the Lord’s weapon. Naturally, its performance could never match the original.”
Krius pointed toward Basileon’s Flamberge, which was still thrust into the floor.
“You’re rambling. Get to the point.”
“Understood. Even so, with this ability of mine, if it can help you, my lady, I wish to assist you to the best of my ability.”
‘Is this like… a talent donation?’
The ability to modify weapons to one’s liking—while perhaps not as grand as Adolph’s role, it seemed useful.
“How exactly would that skill help me?”
“If you choose one you like from among these, I will modify it into a weapon made just for you, my lady!”
At Krius’s bombshell declaration, Adolf looked dumbfounded.
“Did you get the captain’s permission?”
“As vice-captain, I have that much authority! The captain wouldn’t care if a weapon like this went missing anyway.”
Despite Krius’s protest, Adolf still looked reluctant.
“Tsk. If I knew you were planning this, I wouldn’t have brought them!”
“Adolf. Aren’t you also trying to help the lady? I truly don’t understand why you’re being like this.”
“It’s not because of the evil spirit. Your little tricks just reek of a con artist, that’s all. No other reason.”
While Adolf and Krius bickered, I examined the neatly arranged weapons. None of them were dull or rusted; they were all meticulously maintained.
‘…They’re really going to give one of these to me?’
I asked Krius.
“Don’t tell me—you want me to use it?”
“Yes.”
“But I’ve never even held a weapon like this in my life.”
A sword or a bow would be heavy enough that even standing still while holding one would be difficult. How was I supposed to use something like that?
“We can simply teach you how to handle a weapon. Even if it’s not me, isn’t there an expert right here next to you?”
Krius pointed at Adolf, standing stiffly nearby. Adolf had long overseen the armory and possessed expert knowledge in handling weapons.
“You’re all saying the same nonsense.”
Adolph grumbled to himself.
‘You’re saying I could actually fight with this? Me… fighting?’
A chill ran down my spine. I wanted to avoid violent situations as much as possible. More than anything, I was afraid on a psychological level.
“How am I supposed to fight? That’s ridiculous.”
“It isn’t. At least not here. Even the survivors are so desperate just to stay alive that they don’t have the luxury of worrying about status.”
“….”
“Judging by your personality and boldness, my lady, I believe you would do quite well.”
Krius spoke in praise of me.
“But I’m not an ordinary ghost. I can’t even touch objects that other ghosts can.”
“I expected you to say that. However, as you know, I have conducted extensive research on you.”
Krius pulled out a crumpled memo from his inner pocket.
“Do you see this? It’s a detailed comparison of the differences between ghosts like us and you.”
The memo contained a detailed record of my weaknesses and traits as an evil spirit.
“Based on this analysis, I created weapons capable of striking you. Like that flamberge you saw.”
“My, my. You really do sound like a con artist.”
“Adolf! If you can’t help, at least don’t get in the way!”
While Krius complained at Adolf, I reached out and touched one of the weapons laid out. I felt the distinctive chill of bare metal.
“I really can touch it.”
“H–Hey, that weapon is—!”
Seeing what I’d chosen, Krius’s eyes widened.
“Is there a reason you chose such a sinister weapon…?”
“I just thought it might require less proficiency and technique than a sword.”
“The image is quite a contrast, isn’t it?”
Adolf looked back and forth between me and the weapon I’d chosen.
“A contrast in image?”
What I’d picked was a large scythe shaped like a giant crescent moon.
“That weapon is called the Death Scythe.”
Krius told me its name. To my ears, it sounded a little awkward and cringeworthy.
“What’s with the grandiose name? A scythe is just a scythe.”
“Calling it a scythe ruins the vibe. It sounds like farm equipment.”
Adolf said with a faintly mocking tone.
“Death Scythe… With you holding it, you really do look like a grim reaper.”
‘A grim reaper?’
Now that I thought about it, I’d seen the name Death Scythe in a few RPGs before. The image of a skeletal undead wielding a massive scythe came to mind.
“Krius says I look like a grim reaper. Adolf, what did you say again?”
“That it’s a contrast. It doesn’t exactly suit a refined noble lady.”
Adolf and Krius’s opinions were completely opposite. To confirm one thing, I asked Adolf.
“Krius, do I look like a deranged person with messy hair and a bloodstained purple dress?”
“Hmm… yes. That’s precisely why you stand out so clearly from other ghosts.”
“And you, Adolf—since when did I stop looking like that to you?”
“As if I’d remember something that trivial! Your appearance just changed over time. I didn’t think much of it. Things like that happen sometimes in this world—just like how I became a shield.”
To Basileon, Evan, and Havel—and to Adolf—I looked like a noble lady.
‘The common thread between the four of them is….’
If it were just Basileon and Evan, I might think it was a romantic interest. But adding Havel and Adolf into the mix…
‘Close friends? Not necessarily romantic—just affection in a broader sense… maybe.’
I slowly nodded.
“…I see. So that’s it.”
After feeling the cold texture of the Death Scythe, I lifted it myself.
“Ugh… it’s heavy.”
It was heavier than I’d expected. Just holding it was hard—how was I supposed to swing it?
As if reading my thoughts, Krius explained.
“It’s not just swords that require proficiency. Every weapon has its own unique charm, and you must make it yours through training.”
“I see.”
I examined the Death Scythe more closely. It looked as though it could easily cleave through anything.
“…Wait. You said grim reaper, right?”
I deliberately struck a creepy pose and expression.It was a shame I couldn’t see my reflection without a mirror.
“Krius, open your eyes wide.”
“…Pardon?”
Krius looked flustered, but soon did as I asked. Reflected faintly in his pupils, I could see myself. Wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions. A face hidden behind it. A demonic smile straight out of a horror film. A purple dress splattered with blood. And me, holding a massive crescent-shaped scythe. The image of a mad evil spirit who looked ready to slice apart anyone who came close.
“Not bad.”
This time, I struck an elegant pose.
“Damn it. My eyes are rotting.”
Adolf said so, but it was obvious he didn’t mean it.
“Kekekeke! I am the grim reaper!”
I burst into laughter. It felt like I’d returned to being an evil spirit again. I’d been one all along, but after everything that happened, I hadn’t wanted to imitate that old way of speaking. It was while I was laughing like that—
“Eve?”
“…Huh?”
At the sound of my name, I turned around. Basileon was standing there, staring blankly.
“Basileon!”
But he ignored me and walked toward Krius instead.
‘When did he even come to his senses?’
I stared at him, but Basileon paid me no attention and only looked down coldly at Krius.
“Krius Harper.”
“My lord!”
His left eye flashed red.
“Why is Eve holding a Death Scythe?”
“T-That is….”
Everyone except Basileon exchanged glances for a brief moment.
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