Author's Note: So, I wanted to try something new. This is an anthology series inspired by the weapon stories in Nier: Replicant/Gestalt and Nier: Automata. I found all of the weapon stories to be so intriguing in their presentation that I thought I'd try my hand at writing some of my own. Hope you all enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Nier: Replicant/Gestalt or Nier: Automata nor am I affiliated in any way with their owners. All rights reserved to their owners.
World's Evil – a one-handed sword with an eerie black blade that radiates negativity.
There once was a young man a with kind, selfless heart whose only desire was to ease the suffering of others. He would travel the lands, visiting villages and towns, helping whoever he could. He would feed the hungry, assist the weary, and comfort the brokenhearted. Everywhere he visited, he would leave thankful and cheerful smiles in his wake.
But to the young man, it still didn't feel like enough.
One day, the young man saw an old man fallen on the side of the road. With urgency, the young man approached his elder, asking him where he had come from and if the old man needed assistance. Touched, the old man responded affirmatively and guided the young man to the village where he resided. Once the duo reached the old man's abode, where it was revealed that he was once a renowned blacksmith, the old man thanked the kind young man with a gift wrapped in cloth which, when uncovered, revealed a magnificent blade of pristine silver. The old man explained that this was a special blade that, when one afflicted with suffering laid their hands upon its surface, would take away the individual's suffering.
The young man marveled at the blade, a joyous smile spreading across his face.
Continuing his travels, the young man happened across a village that had been wracked with plague, its individuals suffering from both sickness of the body from disease and sickness of the heart from grief, bitterness, and despair. Smiling, the young man entered the village square and presented his newly acquired blade, reciting to the populace what the old blacksmith had told him and implored the villagers to come lay their hands upon the blade. And so, the villagers came one after the other; young and old, sick in body and sick in heart, each laying their hands upon the blade. And just as the old blacksmith had said, everyone who touched the blade immediately felt their infirmity leave their body and their hearts unburdened from their torpor, their voices raised in cries of joy.
The young man rejoiced along with them, not noticing the blade's pristine silver beginning to increasingly darken with every hand that touched it.
The young man coughed and hacked as he trudged along the road, spitting both phlegm and curses from his dry lips as he continued his journey. Word had spread of a virtuous young man traveling the lands, bearing an enchanted sword that relieved whoever laid their hands upon its blade of their suffering. Many had come seeking relief, and the young man obliged, the sword taking away the suffering of all who touched it and absorbing that suffering into its now blackened blade. Yet the young man continued on, even as his body was afflicted with disease and his mind and heart smothered with the knowledge of countless people's pain and anguish.
Soon, the young man happened across a small boy on the side of the road, gasping in pain from numerous wounds from some wild beast. As the young man approached, the boy looked up with pleading eyes and whimpered for help. The young man nodded and, with a strained smile, lifted his now blackened blade to relieve the boy of his suffering.