Nightfang
"This is no ordinary sword…
It is a living darkness."
Before worlds were born… before even the stars existed beneath the endless void… there was only one realm.
A place known as The Void Beyond Creation.
There was no light.
No time.
No life.
And yet… one thing existed there.
Hunger.
An endless, eternal hunger sleeping within the darkness itself.
Once every thousand ages, that hunger awakened and slowly gained consciousness.
That was the true beginning of Nightfang.
When Umbraxis descended upon the worlds, a fragment of its power broke away and gained life of its own.
That fragment was born from:
hatred,
betrayal,
death,
and vengeance.
At first, it existed only as black smoke.
Then… it became something alive.
A blade.
The first person to awaken the sword was Azharoth.
When he first entered the Abyss, he spilled his blood upon the Altar of Umbraxis.
His blood fused with:
the souls of a thousand dead warriors,
Abyssal metal,
and the cursed Eclipse Flame.
And then…
The darkness began to whisper.
From those whispers, Nightfang was born.
The first words the blade ever spoke were:
"Feed me… and I shall devour the heavens."
At that moment, Azharoth realized the truth.
This was not a weapon.
It was a living entity.
Nightfang's appearance was terrifying.
Its blade was forged from black crystalline metal covered in glowing crimson cracks.
The handle resembled a living spine, pulsing like flesh and bone.
Shadows moved around it constantly.
During the night, the sword beat like a heart.
Many who merely looked at it descended into madness.
The Powers of NightfangSoul Devouring
Every soul slain by Nightfang was consumed forever.
With each devoured soul, the blade grew stronger.
Shapeshifting Form
The sword could transform into anything its wielder desired:
spears,
chains,
giant swords,
claws,
or weapons beyond imagination.
Eclipse Flame
Nightfang wielded black fire known as the Eclipse Flame.
This cursed fire could burn through holy magic itself and wound even immortal beings.
Whispering Corruption
The blade whispered constantly into its owner's mind.
Slowly…
it nurtured anger,
fed revenge,
and consumed sanity.
Abyss Rift
With a single slash, Nightfang could tear open dimensions themselves.
The first time Azharoth wielded Nightfang beneath the night sky, he attacked an entire Celestial Fortress alone.
The next morning…
The fortress walls were blackened.
The soldiers had transformed into shadow statues.
Every soul inside had vanished.
Only a single child survived.
When they asked the child what happened, the child whispered:
"The sword was screaming…"
But Nightfang always demanded a price.
Those who used it slowly changed.
First, they lost sleep.
Then they began seeing shadows move on their own.
After that came uncontrollable rage.
Then the voices began.
And finally…
Their souls fused with the blade forever.
Even Azharoth — a man who knew no fear — was terrified whenever Nightfang became silent.
Because after every silence…
the sword demanded blood.
During one great war, Azharoth unleashed Nightfang's full power for the very first time.
The sky turned black.
Blood rain fell from the heavens.
Thousands of souls screamed at once.
That night became known forever as:
The Night of Black Rain
The sword's greatest secret was eventually discovered.
Nightfang was not merely forged.
It contained a fragment of Umbraxis's own heart.
That was why it could endlessly consume life itself.
To stop it, the ancient rulers created the Seven Eternal Seals and imprisoned the blade within a sacred temple guarded by immortal sentinels.
But there was one fatal flaw.
One single day existed when the temple remained unguarded.
And on that day…
your grandfather took the sword.
"There is something you must understand," the old sage said.
"All the powers I described…
every terrifying ability…
only manifests completely when Nightfang is wielded by a Shadow."
Its appearance, powers, and even its color changed depending on its owner.
To each wielder, it granted different abilities.
In the final battle known as the War of Fallen Heavens, Azharoth unleashed Nightfang once more.
The heavens split apart.
Dimensions shattered.
Gods died.
Even the Shadows themselves feared what they witnessed.
But after the war…
Nightfang vanished.
Some believed it had finally been destroyed.
Others whispered that the blade was searching for a new master.
But now…
it has found its way to you.
The Will of the Blade
Nightfang possessed a personality of its own.
The sword judged every wielder.
Weak minds were consumed.
True rage earned its obedience.
That was why your father conquered entire kingdoms with it.
And yet…
you have only used a fraction of its true power.
Not even one percent.
Never forget this:
If the blade fully accepts a Shadow as its true king…
even the gods themselves may be unable to stop what follows.
There was one final secret.
Sometimes, a crimson eye opened in the center of the blade.
Whenever that eye awakened…
every living thing nearby perished instantly.
Even Shadows feared it.
One man finally gathered the courage to ask:
"What do the Shadows fear most?"
The sage's expression darkened.
Then he answered:
"The day Nightfang chooses its final king…
even darkness itself will tremble."
The entire hall fell silent in fear.
Another man whispered nervously,
"What are you trying to say?"
The sage slowly closed his eyes.
"What I mean… is this."
"Nightfang still has not chosen its true owner."
"And when it finally does…"
"Neither light nor darkness may survive the day that follows."
He looked toward the horizon.
"As for what will happen after that…"
"We can only wait and witness the end."