The court had thinned, the torches burning lower, the air thick with velvet heat and whispering magic.
On the throne, the Succubus King exhaled slowly.
His form began to change.
Horns receded into smooth silver hair.
Clawed hands softened into human fingers.
Infernal eyes dimmed into something sharp, calculating — almost gentle.
A perfectly tailored black suit formed over his body as if reality itself dressed him.
He stood.
Elegant. Dangerous. Human.
He adjusted his cuffs, then ran a hand through his hair, checking his reflection in a floating pane of dark glass.
"…Yes," he murmured. "This will do."
A lesser demon, still wreathed in smoke, hesitated near the steps of the throne.
"My King?"
The transformed ruler turned his head slightly.
"Titles are context-dependent," he said. "In Hell, I am your King."
He stepped down from the throne.
On the marble floor, his footsteps made no sound.
"On Earth," he continued, "I require something more… local."
The demon bowed lower.
"What name shall we use?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Kuroi Ryuuji," he said. "That will be my human name."
The air tightened.
Even without the horns, the power was suffocating.
"You will maintain Hell's operations in my absence," Kuroi Ryuuji added calmly. "Ingrid's reforging is to be prioritized. I want reports on the hybrid weapon the moment its resonance shifts."
"The one who took the Hell Blade?" the demon asked.
Ryuuji's eyes glinted.
"Yes."
A pause.
"Do not interfere," he said. "Do not observe directly. Do not engage."
"Then… why go to Earth, my—" the demon caught himself. "…Ryuuji-sama?"
A soft chuckle.
"Curiosity," he replied.
He picked up a black tie that hadn't existed a moment ago and tightened it with precise fingers.
"A weapon that devours infernal authority," he said.
"A boy who can overwrite a Hell contract."
"A knight who now burns with personal intent."
His smile widened slightly.
"That is not a battlefield."
"That is a story."
A ripple of shadow gathered at his feet — a portal forming, not with fire, but with something quieter and far more controlled.
Before stepping through, he gave one final order.
"If anyone asks," he said, "I am conducting a diplomatic observation."
The demon bowed.
"And if the boy dies?" it asked.
Ryuuji paused at the edge of the portal.
"Then he was not worth meeting."
"And if he lives?"
This time, the answer came without hesitation.
"Then Hell will need to renegotiate its hierarchy."
He stepped into the portal.
The throne room went silent.
On Earth, somewhere far above, a man in a black suit appeared in the shadows of a city street — blending perfectly into the human world.
Kuroi Ryuuji looked up at the sky.
"…Let's see what kind of monster you are," he said softly.
And for the first time since taking a human form—
He felt something that looked a lot like anticipation.
Gosha Village – training clearing.
Leo stood with the Hell Blade in his hand, its edge still pulsing with that dark, vein-like glow.
"I wonder," he muttered, rolling his wrist, testing the balance. "What can you do?"
Kurenai leaned against a post, arms folded.
"Probably fire," she said. "Hell weapon. That's the theme."
Leo glanced at her.
"Black flames are Ingrid's thing," he replied. "Mine's… different."
He stepped forward and swung.
Not a slash meant to cut.
A release.
The air split—
—but instead of heat, a wave of liquid darkness poured from the blade.
Not shadow.
Not mist.
Water.
Black water.
It didn't splash when it hit the ground.
It flowed, crawling across the dirt like living ink, swallowing light, leaving the soil beneath slick and silent.
Kurenai straightened immediately.
"…That's not water," she said.
Leo tilted the blade, watching droplets slide up the edge instead of down, reabsorbing into the metal.
The liquid moved with intent.
It coiled around a training post, constricted—
—and the wood rotted instantly, collapsing into damp ash.
Kurenai's eyes widened.
"Okay," she said slowly, "you didn't get fire."
She looked at the spreading pool that was now creeping back toward Leo like it was being called home.
"You got something worse."
The black water climbed his boot, but instead of soaking him, it dissolved into tendrils of energy and flowed back into the blade, the veins along the metal glowing brighter for a moment.
Leo frowned, thinking.
"It's not elemental," he said. "It's consumption."
He pointed the sword forward again.
A thin stream shot out this time—precise, controlled—piercing a boulder.
No explosion.
The stone simply sagged, liquefied from the inside, and collapsed into a sludge of dark slurry that was immediately pulled back toward the blade.
Kurenai took a step back.
"That thing eats matter," she said.
Leo nodded.
"And energy," he added quietly. "I can feel it. It wants to drink."
The blade pulsed in his hand like a heartbeat.
Not hungry.
Expectant.
Kurenai looked at him.
"So Ingrid burns," she said. "You drown."
Leo gave a small, humorless smile.
"Black water," he said. "Abyssal type."
The ground where he'd first released it was still damp, the grass there now colorless, drained.
Kurenai stared at the mark.
"…You realize you're not allowed to swing that near the village, right?"
Leo looked at the blade again, watching the dark veins move like slow currents beneath the surface.
"Yeah," he said. "Training zone only."
A pause.
Then, quieter:
"I think this thing doesn't destroy," he added.
"It erases."
The Hell Blade reacted to that thought — the black water briefly forming along the edge without him moving.
Kurenai exhaled.
"…Great," she muttered. "Our weapon just evolved into an environmental hazard."
Leo lowered the sword.
But the faint sound of liquid moving inside metal did not stop.
The training clearing was still scarred from the last test, the soil dark and drained.
Leo rolled his shoulders, shifting his grip on the Hell Blade.
"Alright," he said. "Let's try something else."
Kurenai narrowed her eyes.
"…That tone usually means property damage."
Leo ignored her and took a stance—feet planted, breathing slow.
Not combat breathing.
Water breathing.
A familiar rhythm.
Inhale.
The air cooled.
Exhale.
Moisture gathered.
The moment he moved, the blade responded.
A normal arc of water formed first—clear, flowing, controlled—the classic current of his technique.
But layered over it—
Black water erupted along the same path.
Two currents.
One transparent.
One abyssal.
They spiraled together without mixing, like twin rivers twisting in the air.
Leo's eyes widened for half a second.
Then he grinned.
He stepped forward and executed the full form.
The slash carved through the training field.
The normal water struck first—impacting with force, blasting apart the target boulder.
A heartbeat later, the black water followed the exact same path—
Not smashing.
Consuming.
The shattered stone dissolved mid-air, turning into dark liquid that was dragged back toward the blade in a reverse current.
Where the attack passed, the ground was cut clean and then drained of color, like life had been siphoned out of it.
Steam rose where the two waters briefly overlapped—energy displacement from opposing properties.
Kurenai stared.
"…So," she said slowly, "you get the physical damage from water Element…"
She pointed at the fading black trail.
"…and the erasure effect from the Hell Blade."
Leo spun the sword once, watching both types of water coil around it like orbiting rings before sinking back into the metal.
"Yeah," he said.
Kurenai whistled.
"So double damage."
Leo shook his head.
"Not just double," he replied. "Layered."
He lifted the blade again and flicked it lightly.
A small wave of clear water shot forward—
and inside it, like a predator hiding beneath the surface, a thin line of black current followed.
The target dummy exploded from the impact—
then the fragments melted away before they could hit the ground.
Kurenai folded her arms.
"That's going to be a nightmare to defend against."
Leo's grin widened.
"First hit breaks guard," he said. "Second hit deletes what's left."
The blade pulsed in approval.
Water breathing stance.
Abyssal augmentation.
Compatible.
Kurenai looked at him.
"…You just turned a precision style into a boss-killer."
Leo rested the sword on his shoulder.
"Good," he said. "Because the next thing we fight won't go down easy."
Later that night.
Fuuma Estate
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Leo sat at the low table, the Hell Blade resting beside him—wrapped, but still faintly leaking that dark, liquid aura that made the air feel heavier.
Ryuji leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"So," he said, calm but sharp, "that's what your blade does."
Leo shrugged. "Looks like it."
Aoi smiled softly from across the room.
"Water," she said. "Fitting. It has always been your element."
Leo scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… thanks."
Yuuko, who had been silently watching the blade the entire time, finally spoke.
"This," she said slowly, "actually answers a long-standing question."
Ryuji glanced at her. "Oh?"
Yuuko adjusted her glasses.
"There was a theory among high-tier mages regarding Hell Blades."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. They're cursed, evil, and bad for your health?"
Yuuko ignored him.
"The theory was that Hell Blades do not have fixed abilities," she continued.
"They are not fire, ice, lightning, or darkness by default."
Aoi tilted her head. "Then what are they?"
Yuuko looked directly at Leo.
"They are amplifiers."
Ryuji's eyes narrowed slightly.
Yuuko continued:
"A Hell Blade resonates with its wielder's core nature—their dominant element, their mana signature, and their spiritual alignment."
She pointed toward the wrapped sword.
"Ingrid's core was black flame—destructive, overwhelming, and consuming through heat."
She looked back at Leo.
"Yours is water—adaptive, flowing, persistent."
Leo frowned slightly. "But the black water?"
Yuuko nodded.
"That is the Hell Blade's native property merging with your element."
She tapped the table for emphasis.
"Normal water: physical impact, flow, control."
"Hell property: erosion, consumption, return of energy."
"Combined: layered attacks and matter conversion."
Ryuji let out a low whistle.
"So the blade didn't change him," he said.
"It synchronized with him," Yuuko replied.
Aoi smiled. "That means it chose correctly."
Leo looked at the sword for a long moment.
"…So it's not just a weapon," he said.
Yuuko shook her head.
"It's a catalyst."
Ryuji added quietly:
"And a responsibility."
Leo snorted lightly. "Yeah, yeah, don't get possessed, don't destroy the village, standard stuff."
Yuuko gave him a flat look.
"I was actually going to say something more important."
Leo blinked. "Oh?"
Yuuko leaned forward.
"If Hell Blades amplify their wielder…"
She paused.
"…then if someone stronger than you takes it—"
Ryuji finished the sentence:
"—it becomes exponentially more dangerous."
The room went silent.
Aoi's smile faded slightly.
Leo reached over and pulled the blade closer to him, resting a hand on the wrapping.
"…Then I guess," he said quietly, "I don't let anyone else touch it."
Kotarou, who had been leaning against the doorway the entire time, finally pushed himself upright.
"I think," he said, "you're all missing the big point."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Kotarou gestured toward the wrapped Hell Blade in Leo's hands.
"If Ingrid's core was flame and it turned into black flame…
and Leo's core is water and it turned into black water…"
He spread his hands.
"…then the same should apply to every element."
Yuuko's eyes sharpened. "Go on."
Kotarou tapped his own chest.
"My element is lightning."
Leo squinted at him. "Yeah?"
Kotarou smirked.
"If I picked up that blade," he said, "it would become black lightning."
There was a brief pause.
Ryuji tilted his head. "Theoretically… that checks out."
Yuuko nodded slowly.
"Yes. Elemental inversion through hell-aspected mana infusion."
Aoi looked slightly concerned. "Black lightning sounds… dangerous."
Kotarou grinned. "All lightning is dangerous."
Leo snorted. "You're not touching my sword."
Kotarou raised both hands. "Relax. I'm not trying to steal it."
He leaned forward, eyes locked on the blade.
"I'm saying this confirms something bigger."
Yuuko crossed her arms. "Which is?"
Kotarou spoke more seriously now.
"Hell Blades don't just amplify."
"They corrupt and evolve."
He looked at Leo.
"Your water didn't just get stronger. It gained a second property."
Leo nodded slowly. "Yeah… the black water eats through things."
Yuuko added:
"Dual-layer elemental manifestation. Physical + metaphysical erosion."
Ryuji looked at Kotarou.
"And if someone with earth took it?"
Kotarou answered immediately.
"Black earth. Gravity-type effects. Maybe decay fields."
Aoi whispered, "Wind?"
Yuuko replied:
"Black wind—vacuum shear, pressure collapse."
Leo blinked. "Okay that sounds broken."
Kotarou pointed at him.
"Exactly."
He took a breath.
"That blade isn't just dangerous because it's strong."
"It's dangerous because it scales to whoever holds it."
The room fell quiet again.
Ryuji's expression hardened slightly.
"So if an S-class mage got it…"
Yuuko finished:
"…the result would be catastrophic."
Leo tightened his grip on the wrapped sword.
"Good thing," he said, forcing a grin, "I'm the one holding it."
The blade pulsed again—stronger this time—like it approved of that statement.
Aoi noticed.
"…It really did choose you," she said softly.
Kotarou smirked.
"Yeah," he added, "and Ingrid wants it back probably."
Back in Hell
The abyssal hall of Hell was silent.
Not respectful.
Not fearful.
Watching.
Ingrid stood at the center of the obsidian platform, her expression calm—too calm.
Below her, the lake of black water churned like a living thing, sensing its knight.
The demons surrounding the chamber kept their distance.
They had all heard.
Her Hell Blade was gone.
Taken.
Claimed by a mortal.
And now—
She lifted her remaining hand.
Without hesitation, she cut off her right arm.
The blade passed through flesh and bone in one clean motion.
The severed limb fell.
It did not splash.
The moment it touched the black water, the lake ignited.
Black flames roared upward, twisting with the liquid darkness, devouring the arm, dissolving it into raw hell-mana.
Ingrid did not scream.
She didn't even flinch.
Her eyes glowed brighter.
The flames wrapped around her shoulder.
Muscle reformed.
Bone rebuilt.
Skin sealed.
Her arm regenerated, stronger, marked with new infernal sigils that pulsed like a heartbeat.
A massive magic circle unfolded beneath her feet—layer after layer of demonic script rotating in opposite directions.
The black water rose into the air, suspended.
Condensed.
Forged.
The demons felt it immediately—
A new Hell weapon was being born.
Not replicated.
Reforged.
Because a Hell weapon is not just metal.
It is a contract.
A throne.
A declaration of authority.
The black flames compressed into a core—denser than before, darker than before.
Where her previous blade had been flame given form—
This one was judgment.
A long shaft of infernal metal extended from the core, forming into a polearm—longer than a sword, crowned with a jagged, crown-like head.
Black fire ran through its veins like molten blood.
The air screamed.
When Ingrid reached out and grasped it, every demon in the chamber dropped to one knee.
The pressure alone forced them down.
She examined the weapon.
Her voice was quiet.
"Not the same," she said.
The flames shifted color—black at the core, violet at the edges.
"Better."
She spun the polearm once.
The black water below her split in half from the residual force.
A demon knight dared to look up.
"My General… your new Hell Blade…"
Ingrid corrected him without looking:
"Not a blade."
She rested it against her shoulder.
"A Hell Glaive."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Leo carries my old authority."
A faint smile formed.
"So I will simply create a new one."
The weapon pulsed in response.
Stronger.
Heavier.
More violent.
She turned toward the throne chamber.
"Prepare the gate to Nomand."
She grinned. As her cape moved
"This time," she said softly, "I'm bringing the correct weapon."
Far away—
In Gosha Village—
Leo's Hell Blade pulsed once.
As if it had just been challenged.
To be continued
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