Journey to Become the Zenith

A Legend Yet Unwritten

Videl moved farther into the store, drawn by a quiet voice pulling at her chest the instant she crossed the threshold. Behind her, Victor fended off Chaos, Serenity, yet another pushy spirit blade after the next.

Where Victor drifted, Videl stepped without hesitation. Her motion carried weight; his hardly made a mark.

Power never crossed her mind. She walked a different path.

Something made her wait for a shout. A sound broke the silence. Her eyes stayed fixed ahead. The moment stretched without movement. Then came what she expected.

Down farther she moved, then silence settled through the room. Heavy air waited in that space. Old, like it had been sitting too long. Dust grew sparse - almost pushed away by what lived in that corner, untouched by rot.

That was when her eyes caught sight of it.

A massive two-handed greatsword lying on the ground.

It looked like just a big sword to most people. Yet, sitting there among old weapons covered in grime, it caught the eye somehow.

It was clean.

Not polished.

Just... untouched by time.

No engravings.No glowing runes.No divine aura bursting outward.

Simple.

Quiet.

Waiting.

Videl stepped closer.

And then—

”Help! Help!”

The voice pierced directly into her mind.

She spun around instantly.

”Where are you? I’m here! Tell me where you are!”

Her senses sharpened. She listened for breathing. For movement. For even the faintest shift in air.

Nothing.

”I’m right in front of you.”

Videl stared ahead.

There was no one.

Only the sword.

Her brows furrowed.

”I can’t see you. Are you invisible? A ghost? Do you need me to help you pass on?”

There was no hesitation in her tone. No fear. Only concern.

A soft huff echoed in her mind.

”I’m not a ghost, you idiot! I’m the sword right in front of you.”

Videl blinked.

”The sword?”

”Yes! The sword! The one you’re staring at like a lost puppy!”

She looked down slowly.

The blade felt... warm.

”Amura,” the voice said proudly. ”That’s what I am.”

”Oh.” Videl nodded seriously. ”Is that your name? Alright, Amura. I’ll find you and help you no matter what.”

”...You truly are dense.”

The sword vibrated faintly.

”Amura is my name. I am the blade. You are holding me.”

Videl stared at the weapon in her hand.

”A talking sword?”

She lifted it effortlessly with one arm.

Her heroic strength was no joke.

A shimmer formed before her.

Light condensed into the shape of a woman.

She appeared around eighteen by human standards. Steel-colored hair cascaded down her back, gleaming like freshly forged metal. Her posture was elegant, disciplined, like a blade kept perfectly straight. Her features were refined, almost unreal, as though carved from pale jade.

Yet her eyes—

Sharp.

Alive.

”I am the spirit within the blade you hold,” she said more formally now. ”Will you help me by becoming my master?”

The tone was dignified now, though Videl could still hear the earlier irritation beneath it.

Videl tilted her head slightly.

”Why me?”

She glanced vaguely toward where Victor was.

”He’s stronger. He’s a better swordsman. Wouldn’t he be more suitable?”

Amura smiled gently.

”You were the one who answered my call. Not him.”

She paused.

”It is true that, at this moment, he is more powerful.”

Her steel eyes softened.

”I... was curious about him. I desire to see what path he will walk.”

Videl’s heart tightened faintly at that.

”But he does not choose easily,” Amura continued. ”And he did not choose me.”

A faint flicker of something—was it pride?—crossed her face.

”And I do not desire a powerful master.”

She stepped closer.

”In this shop, where legendary, mythical, demonic, and godly weapons exist... I am among the youngest.”

”No great legend.”

”No ancient tale.”

”No divine origin.”

”I am a blade without history.”

Her voice lowered.

”A blank slate.”

She looked directly into Videl’s sapphire eyes.

”You are the same.”

The words hit softly.

”Others here have already written their stories. They have kings, heroes, wars, blood, gods.”

”I have none.”

”I wish to create a legend.”

”With you.”

Silence settled around them.

”Together,” Amura said quietly, ”we can become something magnificent.”

Videl swallowed slightly.

Her heroic instinct stirred.

A weapon without a past.

A blade waiting for purpose.

Her fingers tightened on the hilt.

”I—”

Elsewhere in the shop—

Victor was surrounded.

Literally.

Spirits floated around him in shimmering forms. Spears. Halberds. Swords. Even weapons resembling strange future contraptions that fired metal projectiles.

They circled him like desperate merchants at a marketplace.

”Sir Victor! With me in your hand, our names will be sung for eternity!”

”If you choose me, I can assume a physical body. I can become your woman.”

”I possess the greatest firepower in this entire dimension. Together, we will dominate existence!”

”Back off! Serenity and I saw him first! He is destined to be king of kings!”

”King of kings? How boring! Choose me and I’ll make you a god among men!”

Victor’s eyebrow twitched.

”Will you all shut up?”

His voice cracked through the chaos.

”I already said I’m not picking any of you.”

The spirits froze.

”Do you think pestering me like children will change my mind?”

His golden eyes narrowed slightly.

”What is this? Am I your father?”

Silence.

Complete silence.

The weapon spirits stiffened awkwardly.

Yet they didn’t leave.

They hovered nearby, hopeful.

Just in case.

Victor exhaled slowly.

And then—

He felt it.

A presence.

Weak.

Faint.

Unlike the others, which radiated power proudly, this one felt... withdrawn.

It was barely above legendary classification.

Almost erased.

Almost nonexistent.

As if deliberately hiding.

Interesting.

Victor’s lips curved.

You’re hiding from me.

He moved deeper into the shop.

Past the glowing legends.

Past the eager spirits.

Toward the quietest corner.

The weapon rested alone.

Compared to the others, it looked unimpressive.

Strange.

Unconventional.

Even in his previous world, this kind of weapon wasn’t commonly used in true combat. It had flaws. Limitations. It was often decorative. Or used only in desperation.

Yet—

It was unique.

Among dozens of swords and spears, this one stood alone in its form.

Victor stopped before it.

His golden eyes gleamed faintly.

”Hey.”

His voice lowered slightly.

”Spirit.”

He leaned closer.

”How about you show yourself to me.”