The Academy’s Weapon Replicator

“... “

Frondier silently observed the monster for a moment. The dark monster, too, for some reason, didn't attempt to attack and just stared blankly at Frondier.

The dark monsters, newly born from the fragments of Helheim, were immature in their thinking. They were filled only with endless malice and bloodlust towards humans.

The strategy of binding the mountain of corpses into one mass was also due to ‘orders’ received, not their own thinking.

Therefore, it was natural that upon facing Frondier, a human, they would be unable to contain their bloodlust and would rush to kill him. But for some reason, they stood rooted to the spot, staring at Frondier.

──Their instincts as monsters told them.

If they tried to attack Frondier now, something worse than death awaited them.

Kr, Krurrk, Kegegeg!!

Having made its judgment, the dark monster turned its back and fled. It didn't know what Frondier was planning to do, but the look in his eyes wasn't that of someone intending to kill a monster.

The dark monster retraced its steps, flying back over the barrier it had climbed. It didn't even think about looking back.

What Frondier's eyes held wasn't killing intent. It was─

“Where do you think you're going.”

Shwiiik-

Puk!

Frondier sharpened the Obsidian and plunged it into the dark monster's back.

The monster hung suspended in mid-air, impaled. He hadn't created any specific form of weapon.

He simply manipulated the residual Mana, shaping the Obsidian into a long branch and piercing the monster with it.

“There's something I want to try.”

Frondier looked exhausted from the repeated battles and severe Mana depletion. However, a smile played on his lips. It wasn't a bluff, nor was he out of his mind. He had shown a similar smile right before using the ‘fireworks’.

Did Frondier know what kind of thoughts that languid smile evoked in his enemies?

“Will you help me?”

The dark monster didn't understand a word Frondier said, but.

It understood one thing clearly.

Frondier wasn't thinking of killing the dark monster.

He had no interest in the dark monster's death. Frondier's eyes, resembled those of a child tearing the wings off a dragonfly.

Squeeze.

Just as he had retrieved the black substance that had covered the monsters, Frondier now pulled on the dark monster itself as if it were Obsidian.

In that instant.

Kieeeeek!!

The dark monster shrieked. It was a scream of terror rather than pain. The sensation of losing oneself, of a newly born life being transformed into something non-living without even the act of killing.

Literally, Frondier was retrieving the dark monster as ‘Mana’.

“Ugh, ugh, urgh...!”

Of course, such a dangerous act wasn't without its consequences for Frondier. The moment he tried to retrieve the dark monster, the sensation he felt was more of disgust than pain.

He was attempting to draw Mana from the world of the dead into his own.

A complete theft, taking ownership through the medium of Obsidian, from two entirely separate realms that rejected each other. It was a transgression beyond mere killing, a forbidden territory.

An ordinary person attempting this would have long gone mad, their soul overwhelmed by the screams of the dead, the stench of corpses, and the very image of death.

But Frondier.

“Be quiet...!”

With just those words, he dismissed the world of the dead and.

Shwoo!

In an instant, he grasped the dark monster in his hand. The monster lost its form, becoming nothing more than Obsidian. No, it became a ‘fragment of Helheim’.

“Ugh! Uurgh...!”

Frondier barely managed to suppress the urge to vomit. The aftermath of the battle with the dark monster hit him all at once.

The fact that all of that aftermath amounted to just a few dry heaves was proof that Frondier wasn't normal. Whether he realized it himself or not.

“...It's definitely a bit different.”

Frondier examined the fragment in his hand. Its outward appearance was similar to the Obsidian he always used, but the aura it exuded and the way it moved were fundamentally different.

‘...The monsters born from the fragments.’

Initially, Frondier had been quite puzzled to hear that dark monsters were born from the fragments of Helheim.

The creation of something could be dismissed as the work of a god trying to hinder Frondier. If it were a god, they could easily raise a mountain with a mere thought.

But could a god truly create monsters using only the fragments of Helheim? If the fragments were truly identical to Obsidian, then with just a bit of force, they would simply become metal. How could they produce monsters with their own will from such a simple material?

Obsidian was the residue left after ‘something’ had been done to the fragments of Helheim. That was Frondier's previous assumption.

And now, he had the answer.

‘The fragments of Helheim possess a will from the very beginning. The god simply extracted that will appropriately.’

Whether the fragments of Helheim themselves loathed humans, or whether the god instilled that loathing after extracting them.

Whichever it was, even a god couldn't create monsters from something that had no will at all. If that were possible, they wouldn't have used the fragments of Helheim in the first place.

‘The monsters born from the fragments, the will possessed by the fragments themselves, metal with a will...’

And, the authority of the owner.

Frondier had just felt it. The feeling of seizing ownership of the Mana from the dark monster.

Surprisingly, the sensation wasn't unfamiliar.

‘Excalibur within the lake was the same.’

In the past, Frondier had entered the lake to obtain Excalibur. While he couldn't pull out that Excalibur, he had held it in his hand.

The feeling of retrieving the dark monster just now was similar to that experience.

‘I understand now. What the fragments of Helheim are. No, how Helheim has influenced this world.’

The fragments of Helheim that remained in this world after Ragnarok, not completely disappearing.

The history built by humans after that, the footsteps and weapons of heroes.

And the legends of weapons choosing their own masters, like Excalibur and Gram.

‘The power emanating from Helheim was the prototype of Ego Swords.’

Ego Swords, weapons with their own will. Tracing their origins led to Excalibur, Gram, and others that chose their own masters.

If he wanted, what Frondier held now could also potentially become another Ego Sword with enough time and effort to find a way.

“Well, that's a story for later.”

Frondier looked at the battlefield with a more relaxed expression.

Thanks to the recent retrieval, his depleted Mana had recovered considerably.

Perhaps some monsters had witnessed the gruesome sight of the dark monster being sucked in, as surprisingly, a few of them showed signs of fear.

The retrieval of the fragments, the dark monsters. If Frondier could continue doing this.

The dark monsters shouldn't even be here right now.

An act that required no Mana and instead replenished Frondier's Mana, the greatest threat on this battlefield.

The dark monsters that had been painstakingly brought forth to overcome the human barrier.

“In games, sometimes,”

From this very moment,

“there are times when I steal the weapons that the enemies have devised to deplete my health.”

They would become Frondier's offerings.

“It's quite amusing, isn't it.”

To see their sorrowful efforts end up killing their own allies.

Frondier smiled, incongruously with the content of his words.

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