"This is getting terribly repetitive." Ivy spat. "We travel hundreds of miles to some obscure location on a hunch, find someone who can tell us a lot but do little for us, fail to destroy Soul Edge yet again, and then leave to repeat the process. This really needs to stop."

"It's not as easy as you make it sound, Ivy. If you know of a better alternative, then please feel free to speak up. In fact, if anyone has any better ideas, I'd like to hear them. If not, I'd like to stop hearing complaints about how we are doing things."

"...Um..."

"...Tira? What is it?"

"Master, you said, if anyone has an idea, you'd like to hear it?"

"Yes."

"...I have an idea."

"You do? Well, go ahead, then."

"Haha. This should be rich..."

"Shh! Let her speak."

"...I was thinking...um...why don't we just...drop it the ocean?"

"..."

"...I'm sorry for bringing up the idea. I knew it was a foolish-"

"No! That's brilliant! That's genius!"

"...Ivy?"

"I can't believe I didn't think of this myself! We'll sail out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and chuck it right into the water! It'll sink to the bottom of the sea, and no one will ever be able to see it again! It'll be the end of Soul Edge, and then we'll finally be done with this nonsense!"

"...Ivy, I'm not sure about this idea. It's...original, to be sure, but I don't think.."

"How about this: for a full day, we'll all try to think up something better. If we can't think of a better idea, then we go with Tira's plan."

---

During the late 1500s, the mighty Spanish armada known as la Armada Invencible - the Invincible Fleet - held supremacy over the Atlantic Ocean. However, sometimes even the Spanish armada was not enough to combat some threats, or was unsuited to dealing with certain problems. In those situations is where the privateers came in.

A "privateer" was a private ship (or its captain) authorized by a country's government to attack and seize cargo from another country's ships. Sir Phillip Leon was one such privateer. He commanded a proud ship with a special commission from the Spanish King to loot in the name of Spain. He bore one son.

He named his son "Cervantes".

Most of Phillip's reputation as an expert seafarer was owed to his crew - or, rather, his expertise at handling a crew. The advice he always gave his son was that "a sailor must always be strong and gentle." He believed that if a captain was strong with both his crew and with the sea, he would master and earn the respect of both, and that if a captain is gentle with his crew as well, he will earn their friendship as much as their respect. Cervantes revered his father greatly, and was very proud to have him as his parent.

He was devastated when his father died at sea.

Phillip's ship had moved alongside an English merchant ship in order to plunder it. Unbeknownst to him, the ship was actually an English warship, disguised to lure in Phillip to kill him.

The English ship's cannon shells shattered the Spanish galleon, and Captain Phillip de Leon died in the attack. The only remains of him that were salvageable were his hat.

When the young Cervantes received his father's hat, his gaze was fixed upon it for a long time.

He always advocated being a gentle, friendly, respectable person, yet no one cared about the quality of his person. He was chosen for his position because he was an expert seafarer, and he was targeted to be killed for the same reason. His character and his loyalty to the crown got him nothing but a grave at the bottom of the sea. I will not suffer the same fate. I will not be gentle, and I will swear no allegiances.

This young man would grow up to become the most feared pirate on the seven seas, Captain Cervantes de Leon, the Dread Pirate, a threat to anyone who sailed the ocean. He started a reign of terror across the Atlantic in his ship, the Adrian, showing no mercy to anyone, even those in the Invincible Armada. The smallest whisper of his name would strike fear into even the grandest of naval fleets.

One day, a messenger of the Merchant of Death, Vercci, entered Cervantes' haunt, an inn called the Black Tail.

He told the pirate of Vercci's search for the legendary weapon, Soul Edge. The messenger promised an exceptional reward for the recovery of the two swords that composed the weapon. However, Cervantes did not like the idea of working for anyone.

Cervantes finally accepted the offer, deciding that it would be a lark. A year passed with no great advances, until he finally came across some information.

At a secret antiques auction, an Englishman had made a successful bid on a strange article said to be a set of legendary swords. There was no conclusive evidence that this was Soul Edge, but as a pirate, Cervantes found himself unable to pass up the opportunity. He made plans to intercept the ship.

The sea was stormy as the Adrian set sail after the passenger ship. The boom of cannonfire echoed across the stormy sea. Columns of water surrounded the passenger ship in the spots where the cannonballs had struck.

When it was time, the Adrian came along side the Englishman's ship. Cervantes raised his cutlass, rallied his bloodthirsty crew, and boarded the ship. Before long, Cervantes succeeded in locating Soul Edge aboard the ship.

At this point in time, Soul Edge was in a state that could be compared to dormancy, as it awaited a proper host to come into possession of it. When Cervantes extended his arms and grasped the hilts of the two blades, Soul Edge sensed its new owner. This man was far more powerful than the weaklings who had handled it in recent years. His body was old, but physically fit. Although there was more to desire, this man was adequate. It had found its next host.

As soon as Cervantes laid his hands on the swords, Soul Edge possessed him. He lost his free will and awareness instantly, and became nothing more than Soul Edge's puppet.

Soul Edge was hungry for souls, and so Cervantes immediately began to slaughter everyone around him - not only the crew of the passenger ship, but his own crew, as well. Not a single soul survived the massacre that stormy night - save for one small boy, but his soul would not have provided much of a meal for Soul Edge, anyway.

After the bloodshed on the seas, he boarded his ship once more, sailed it to his port base in Spain, and slaughtered all who resided there. Temporarily satisfied with its twisted desire to consume souls, the evil swords had Cervantes rest himself at the remains of the Black Tail Inn. As the evil swords rested, they slowly prepared a plan to create a new host...

During the next twenty years, the rumors of the evil swords spread throughout the world. Some believed it was a sword of salvation, while others called it the ultimate weapon. And yet others sought Soul Edge for personal reasons. Few reached Soul Edge; and those that did had their souls devoured by the evil swords.

The demonic blades did not commit massacres to satisfy their appetite for souls, but it was only a matter of time before the dark storm of Soul Edge would terrorize Europe...and Cervantes' destiny was to stand in the eye of that storm, with both blades in hand.

Eventually, there was one who managed to bring about the end of Cervantes' reign...Sophitia, the sacred fighter of Hephaestus. During a grueling battle with Cervantes, she succeeded in destroying one of the twin swords. When one of the swords was shattered, Cervantes felt pain and wrath as if a part of him had been destroyed as well. By losing its companion blade, Soul Edge lost its natural equilibrium. Due to Soul Edge's loss of control over Cervantes from the destruction of one of the blades, Cervantes was not able to survive the intense battle that followed.

Soul Edge was extremely displeased at the loss of its host. Soon, another being approached the scene where the battle had taken place - a young man, whose soul was immature and weak. If this man grasped the hilt of the remaining blade of Soul Edge, the sword would lose most of its power to compensate for how much power the young man's body and soul could handle. This result would be unacceptable.

Soul Edge gathered up its remaining energy. The corpse of Cervantes de Leon became enveloped in the flames of hell as he was brought back from the dead to do the will of Soul Edge once more. Mortal combat began. Madness shined in the young man's eyes, he raised a sword that seemed too large for him to wield, and defended himself. When the battle ended, all that remained was the burnt corpse of a pirate captain and a young man grasping a now shattered Zweihander. When that young man would become a host for Soul Edge himself, he would by far surpass Cervantes in dreadfulness and evil.

However, the story of Captain Cervantes de Leon does not end here. His soul was not freed by the destruction of his corporeal form.

Some time passed before Soul Edge's new host once again passed by Cervantes' ashen remains. As Soul Edge neared the remains of its former host, the fragments of Soul Edge that had cut into Cervantes' flesh at the moment of its destruction began to resonate. The shards of Soul Edge came to life, and began to move around Cervantes' remains. After a day had passed, the corpse was once again able to stand. Cervantes had returned to this world.

However, there were only a few fragments embedded in Cervantes' flesh. Although he was resurrected, his mind was not whole. He had lost his memories. Cervantes barely remembered the name of his good ship, the Adrian, from his days as a pirate. His ship was now a half-derelict vessel anchored at port...

Cervantes lived amongst the ruins of the port, unable to even remember his name. But his memories eventually returned to him.

One night, while standing in the middle of a storm, he recalled a storm just like it, and then recalled a memory of attacking a ship in that storm. He remembered the loot he took from his hapless victims...and the two swords he held in his hands!

Cervantes' memories gradually began to return, and as they did, so did his desire to possess the great power of Soul Edge once again. Although he recalled the loss of his free will to the power, it still appealed to him. As a man who was resurrected by the fragments of the evil blade, he sensed the resonance of the other blade. Surprisingly at first, the signs of the other blade were scattered in various locations. But, he realized, this was to be expected, given that one of the blades splintered into many fragments when it was destroyed.

Cervantes set out to follow a strong sign of the evil blade. But, as he closed in on that sign, he sensed that Soul Edge's presence was splintered even more. Could the other Soul Edge have been shattered, as well? Cervantes finally arrived at the location of the evil energy, and discovered terrible news. His premonition was correct.

He picked up several pieces of the newly created shards, and gazed upon them. Was his desire to possess that power again for naught?

That was when Cervantes sensed something strange. Two pieces of the sword in his palm began to resonate with his body, and then began to melt into one. He immediately reached out for another shard...that piece joined the other piece, as well. Cervantes realized that the fragments within him caused this resonance to occur with the others. He also sensed what seemed almost like a cry of joy that rose from the sword fragments within him. At that moment, he knew very well what was necessary to restore Soul Edge's powers.

He sought out powerful warriors, defeated them, and consumed their souls. He found new pieces of the sword to increase the power of Soul Edge. In time, the fragments assumed the shape of a sword, and began to emanate an evil aura in proportion to its physical size. But, unlike the first time Cervantes held Soul Edge, this time he was able to wield the demonic blade without ceding his will to it - the pieces of the sword within him gave him this ability.

After a grueling four years, Cervantes had succeeded in restoring Soul Edge to its original form. He set sail in the Adrian and once again terrorized the Atlantic. Control of that ocean had been shifting from his homeland of Spain to the countries to the north, but even this great wave of history was nothing more than surf upon the shore to Cervantes. No matter what flag others flew, be it merchant vessel or ship of war, all were merely prey in his eyes.

What he sought now, however, was not monetary treasure, but nourishment to help the cursed sword grow - the souls of strong men of the sea who had toughened themselves upon the raging waves.

Ships attacked by the Adrian disappeared completely into watery graves. A new chapter was added to the legend of the great pirate Cervantes: a tale of a demonic ghost ship and its inhuman captain.

Everything had been proceeding smoothly...up until one fateful day. The unusually stormy sea was perhaps a premonition of what was to come. Cervantes avoided the tempest by mooring the Adrian in a cliff opening. That was when it happened.

The presence of the other half of Soul Edge suddenly disappeared. Recently, it had felt stronger than it ever had, and yet now he could not feel it at all. Then, a terrible change began to occur in his body - his skin and the ends of his limbs changed color, and, little by little, began to crumble! He could tell that the fragments of the cursed sword within his body that had acted as his source of life were losing their power. At this rate, his body would eventually turn back into a scorched corpse. The very power of the cursed sword itself he held was weakening.

Panicking, he sought after the faint remainder of evil energy. He sensed that the power given off by the other cursed sword was being held back by some great power. But what entity could possibly possess such power as this?

He had never thought that his immortal self would feel the fear of death. Cervantes' face wore a troubled expression, one he had not shown in a very long time. He could probably delay his inevitable extinction for a short while by absorbing new souls.

And thus, amongst the men of the sea, a rumor began to circulate that the great pirate Cervantes had hidden an enormous treasure in a cave near the coast of Spain. Naturally, this story was merely bait scattered by Cervantes in order to gather souls to feed to Soul Edge, but it brought a never-ending stream of pirate ships to Cervantes' hideout.

One stormy night at sea, as Cervantes waited in his cave like a spider waiting for insects to fly into his web, he sensed strange energy approaching him from afar. The energy reminded him of Soul Edge, but yet it was not Soul Edge. At the same time, there was an odd sensation as if there was nothing to be sensed at all.

As Cervantes attempted to determine what this could mean, he suddenly heard a voice.

"Doth thou desire the power?"

The impudently spoken words had come from above his head. Turning to the voice's source, Cervantes saw a man clad in a white robe and holding a long scythe standing atop on the Adrian's mast.

Cervantes was disturbed that he had not noticed the intruder. But, more than he was surprised by the man's dexterity or stealth, he was angered.

"And just who in the hell are you!" He growled. In response to Cervantes' intimidating voice, the man responded calmly.

"I am of no concern to you." The man said in a cold tone, but with an emotionless face. "It is commendable indeed that you have managed to restore the sword as much as you have and prolong your body's deterioration, but, in their current states, neither the sword nor your body have adequate power to surmount the tasks that will soon befall you."

"...What are you rambling on about? Do you mean to mock me?" His voice was filled with violent intent.

"Killing me would do you no good, even if you had the strength to do so." The man said calmly. "Those whom you should think of killing are those whose deaths and possessions you would benefit from."

"Stop speaking in cryptic riddles!" Cervantes growled. "Speak clearly or begone!"

"An entity that has the power to oppose Soul Edge had appeared from hiding, and has temporarily killed Soul Edge."

Cervantes' mood changed instantly. "...What?"

"The two entities are now one. Their current physical states and energy cannot be changed until they are separated."

"...And why do you tell me this?" Cervantes asked warily.

"A ship will be passing by here soon. Aboard this ship are your worst enemies, who are in possession of the lifeless Soul Edge. In one fell swoop, you can destroy them, and take Soul Edge for yourself."

Cervantes was still extremely skeptical, but his curiosity pushed him forward. "...Who do you refer to when you say 'worst enemies'?"

"They are warriors on a quest to stamp out Soul Edge, and thus they are a threat to you above all others. Among them is the holy warrior whom shattered Soul Edge, the man whom was Soul Edge's host after you, and a potential host for Soul Edge - your spiteful daughter. All of these people seek the complete eradication of Soul Edge."

"...Daughter?" Cervantes asked. "...I...have a daughter?" He began to search his memories for anything with a connection to this news. He had a faint memory that might explain things. When Soul Edge had controlled him, he'd raped a woman and then let her escape. He had not often thought of this, but it did strike him as curious that Soul Edge would desire for him to commit such an act; he didn't think that the sword hungered for anything more than souls.

"Will this be a problem?" The mysterious man asked.

"...No. I feel no parental love or responsibility for a daughter I never wanted, and never knew I had. And if Soul Edge desires to fall out of my hands and into hers, then I will simply have to kill her. ...But, I have questions for you. Who are you? What do you want? Why are you telling me these things?"

"As I have said before, my identity is of no concern to you. What I seek is nothing more than the destruction of the souls aboard that ship. I tell you these things because I cannot risk my own existence."

"...Then you're a coward!"

"You have experienced death only once. You know what it is like. Do you know how many times I have experienced death? Hundreds of times; and it is worse with each occurrence." These words were the closest the man had come so far to displaying emotion. Indeed, there did seem to be deep feelings hidden beneath his words.

"...I have no intention of binding myself to anyone else's purposes."

"You need not worry. I ask nothing more of you than to kill your enemies."

"...And what of Soul Edge?"

"If Soul Edge falls into your hands, this is of no consequence to me." The man said. Cervantes could detect sinister intentions lying beneath these words - was it a lie? Or did this man plan to take Soul Edge from Cervantes after he had obtained it?

"And how do I intercept this ship?"

"Can you sense something that feels like Soul Edge approaching you from afar?"

"...Yes."

"Sail your ship towards that sensation, and you will intercept the ship."

Cervantes scoffed. "I was going to inspect that anyway."

"I know. But if you were to do so the way you are now, you would perish..."

"...What do you mean?"

"You are not powerful enough to defeat them. They would destroy you if you fought them. This is why I am here. I ask you - doth thou desire the power?"

"There you go again, speaking in riddles!"

"I can give you power. I can return your strength to what it once was. I can make you powerful enough to destroy them ten times over."

"...And what do you ask for, in return?" Cervantes asked, suspecting a catch.

"Nothing. Nothing more than that you intercept and kill your enemies."

The man held out his hand. It began to glow purple, and then a bright beam shot from his palm into Cervantes' chest. At first, Cervantes thought that this was an attack, but then realized that he did not feel pain - he felt power. He felt himself becoming endowed with a massive amount of energy and strength.

"Do not fail; those souls took a long time to reap." The man said. With these words, for a moment Cervantes was almost convinced for a moment that the man with the scythe was the Grim Reaper himself.

With this, the man jumped backwards from his perch on the mast, into the darkness of the night. Cervantes turned his head left and right, but could not see where the man had landed - he had disappeared completely.

After taking a moment to think over the events that had just transpired, Cervantes grasped his ship's wheel, and turned its rudder.

The bow of the Adrian now pointed towards the Soul Embrace.