Be Gentle, Immortal Master

I wanted to place that longsword upon an altar to show how thankful I was to its return. After our exchange that afternoon, Bai Ye finally started talking to me again—not just trying to convince me to give up or grudgingly answering my questions, but actually having a conversation, sometimes even with a faint smile.

Although I could've imagined better, this was already much bigger progress than I had prepared myself for, and I felt beyond content. The next few days passed in bliss. I was even more thrilled when he told me an improved potion recipe without me asking, and the effect of it couldn't be more obvious. Color started returning to his face within just a couple of doses, and those hollow cheeks slowly began to gain some of their fullness back as well.

As much as these changes excited me, however, I knew that none of them fixed the root of our problem, and I didn't dare relax my reading schedule. Thankfully, with his increasingly willing help, I was able to go through those books from the library much faster than before, and by the end of the sixth day, I had moved almost half of the pile over to the finished side. To keep track of my thoughts and findings, I made thorough notes as I went through each volume, and I revisited them every night before we went to sleep.

"I keep feeling like something is missing from all these books," I mumbled that evening when I flipped my notes back and forth. "They go into a lot of detail on how to wield or control a demonic sword's power, but none of them fully explain the nature of it. When we read spell books, on the other hand, they always start by describing how each symbol represents a pattern of energy flow, how each ingredient and incantation invokes the energy needed for that purpose … How am I supposed to properly understand a demonic sword without that kind of information?"

Bai Ye smiled and squeezed my hand. I had made a habit out of holding him while reading—although he was starting to grow warm enough at this point that he barely needed my body heat, I liked being close to him, especially now that he had stopped resisting me. "Spells are science," he said, "whereas demonic swords are magic. It's hard to explain them methodically."

I put down my notes. "Everything follows some kind of rules," I countered. "They can't just work randomly. How did people learn how to forge demonic swords if they didn't even understand their power?"

"By trial and error, and with a lot of luck." The look on his face darkened a little. "Back in the ancient days, legendary swords used to be forged with human sacrifices. You've heard stories where famous swordsmiths throw themselves into the fire to top off their masterpieces … But when that started becoming common practice, people began to seek even stronger power to perfect their creations. Lots of alternatives were tried, lots of carnage caused, and eventually they found out that a demon's flesh and blood went much farther than a human's. That was when demonic swords came into existence."

I listened quietly. His casual but thorough elaboration reminded me of our old days together, where he would patiently go over every detail of a new lesson, and I would watch him silently while trying to etch the melody of his voice into my memory. My heart swelled a little. After all his coldness towards me since his return … I was so relieved that he would talk to me like this again, that things between us were finally starting to return to normal.

"For thousands of years," he continued, "people fumbled on this new path to power. A demonic sword draws its strength not only from the demon that was fed to it, but also from the forging technique, the raw material, and many other things. It is almost impossible to keep all those conditions the same for two swords. As a result, every demonic sword exhibits a different type of power. No one knows what to expect before a blade comes out of the forge, and no one has been able to work out a formula that gives them the outcome they want."

"No wonder demonic swords are so rare," I commented. "The challenge of the technique aside, it's a huge risk to try to forge something that you don't even know how it'd turn out."

"Risk never stopped people from seeking power," he scoffed, and I knew he was deriding himself. "There are theories on this though, of course. You were right when you said everything follows a certain rule. People have been suspecting that different types of demonic power enhance and suppress each other just like the five basic elements, and that as long as we can find the pattern, we'd be able to harness and exploit those dark forces to the fullest. But the rules of the universe aren't that easy to fathom. After thousands of years, no one has succeeded yet." Please visit ｆ𝗿𝗲𝒆we𝚋ｎ૦𝘃𝚎𝒍. 𝒄o𝚖

I nodded thoughtfully. For a fleeting moment, his words seemed to have reminded me of something, but when I turned what he said over in my head, that strange feeling was gone. What did I miss? I rubbed my temple, feeling a bit lost.

Sensing my gesture, he reached over to me and slipped his arm behind my back. "Don't stress yourself too much," he said softly. "This is a road that few have traveled, and we knew it wouldn't be a smooth one. The least I can do for you is to buy you some more time … So no need to feel rushed."

A surge of warmth flowed through me. I placed my hand over his, wrapping my other arm around him as well. "And I can't be more grateful that you're doing it," I said, giving him a light kiss. "Just stay with me.. There must be light at the end of the tunnel … and I can feel that we are already getting closer."