Sword God in a World of Magic

Shang just kept lying in the middle of the cave, breathing heavily.

He was so old.

He was so weak.

He was so tired.

Yet, there was nothing he could do but try to learn as much about his current situation as possible.

He had arrived at the end of his life, but there was still a way to extend it.

Shang hadn’t achieved his goal yet, and he wouldn’t stop trying to achieve it.

How many people knew the level three Concept of Death?

Extremely few.

The Concepts of Death were just as rare as the Concepts of Life, and the only two people Shang knew that had comprehended any of these Concepts were Queen Primordium and the Custodian.

The Custodian had comprehended two Concepts of Life.

But that was it.

Shang knew two Concepts of Death, which basically already put him on the level of one of the most powerful Mage Kings in the world.

Comprehending the level three Concept of Death would be even more difficult.

Yet, Shang wouldn’t give up.

He never gave up.

Ever since he had started on his path to power, he hadn’t given up.

This was his entire thing.

This was his entire personality.

Single-minded obsession with only one thing.

Undying and ceaseless effort towards one thing.

Shang had sacrificed so much just to achieve his goal.

But if he failed now, all of this would have been for nothing.

All these sacrifices would only have meant something if Shang actually managed to reach his goal.

Shang was not someone that was happy with what he had.

To Shang, there was no grey, only black and white.

Either he achieved his goal or not.

To him, dying as a powerful Cloud was worth just as much as dying to a Pest Cat when he had just arrived in this world.

For the first time in a long while, Shang actually thought back to his life on Earth.

It was so far away.

MMA fighter?

Phones?

Grocery stores?

What a weird world.

The things people came up with in a world without Mana.

Shang remembered working on getting enough money to enter college.

He also remembered how he had basically been a drunkard a year before that due to his destroyed ankle.

He once had a girlfriend, whom he had essentially chased off by constantly coming home drunk and being aggressive.

He had parents.

Parents…

What a strange and alien concept.

Family…

Then, Shang’s mind wandered to the time he had died.

He had been so weak.

He couldn’t even take out two robbers.

He remembered the God and how he had felt after entering Aterium.

The unknown forest.

The magical feeling of coming into contact with Mana for the first time.

The following training.

This had been so much fun.

Shang had only needed to train in isolation.

A couple of swings with his sword was all the training he needed.

​

“Sword, huh?” he said weakly in a scratchy voice.

Sword didn’t answer.

Shang’s mind returned to the times he had trained together with Sword.

They had talked and trained together.

It was so much fun.

And then, Shang was reminded of the first time he had truly used Entropy in the outside world.

Commander Wilbury.

Back then, Sword had shouted at him, saying that it didn’t want to be alone.

“A mirror, huh?” Shang said.

Sword didn’t say anything.

“You were always a mirror. You always showed me what I didn’t see on my own.”

Sword didn’t say anything.

“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you,” Shang said.

Sword didn’t say anything.

“A complex and fluid Magic Circle,” Shang said. “The level two Concept of Life, Change, the level three Concept of Gravity, Compression, the level two Concept of Space, Distance, the level three Concept of Metal, Steel, and the most impressive of all, the level five Concept of Metal, Destruction.”

Sword didn’t say anything.

“By using all of these Concepts, you can create a complex Magic Circle that shows whatever would help the user the most.”

“Back then, I wanted a companion.”

“A friend that had just as much ambition as me.”

“We talked, and we both worked towards the same goal.”

“Because that’s what I wanted,” Shang said.

Sword didn’t say anything.

“George’s last wish was revenge, which was the last input his spear had received.”

“Like a program, it did its absolute best to achieve that goal.”

“And that’s because it was a program.”

“Just like you,” Shang said.

Sword didn’t say anything.

“I don’t even know why I am talking to you right now. Maybe it’s just a last bit of solace I wish for.”

“Maybe, just maybe, I want to be proven wrong.”

“Back when I consumed that Mind Flow Pellet in the Temple of Blood, I realized it.”

“You’re not actually alive.”

“You’ve never been alive.”

Silence.

Shang slowly and weakly opened his hand.

“Come,” he said.

Sword flew over and obediently landed in Shang’s hand.

“You’re just a mirror.”

“You’re just me.”

“You’ve always been just me.”

“I’m just talking to myself.”

Sword didn’t say anything.

Or, more accurately, Shang’s sword didn’t say anything.

“What is it?” Shang said. “What is the thing I wish for the most right now?”

“What is my deepest desire?”

Shang weakly focused on his sword.

It vibrated weakly.

However, Shang understood it.

“What a useless answer,” Shang said.

“It can be interpreted in so many different ways.”

Shang became quiet and only continued breathing heavily.

What was he supposed to do with that answer?

No matter how he spun it, that couldn’t resolve any of Shang’s issues.

For the next years, Shang continued lying on the ground, becoming weaker and weaker.

He had no idea how to comprehend the level three Concept of Death, Purgatory.

He just couldn’t tell what he should focus on.

Yet, again and again, Shang found himself thinking about the answer the sword had given him.

But he had no idea what the point of that was.

What was Shang’s deepest desire?

“Peace, huh?” Shang said with a barely audible voice.

Shang was nearly dead.