Blood Nemesis - Chapter 13: Research Outpost 1

There was a time where I was summoned to a different world. I spent more than a year as a Priestess from a different world. I fulfilled my role and decided to return to my original world. Before leaving, I confessed my feelings to my escort knight. And from there I was heartbroken. After returning to the original world for a year and half, I was summoned again. What? Apparently this time, nobody summoned me. I was sent out to a great extent and have a lost love. I cannot face anyone now! No one knows that I was a former Priestess and I can only quickly return to my original world. Even so, it does not seem to work out very well…

I opened my eyes to find myself in another world. For some odd reason, I ended up as a sword. Before my eyes laid a plain full of magic beasts, and so, I launched my body and flew in search of a partner, a wielder (females only). Wait. Absorbing magic stones gets me skills? Oh hell yeah! This be fun! More, more, give me more! Gimme all your magic stones! Okay, yeah no, but I am accepting anything anyone’s willing to give. This tale is one that follows your everyday nerd, normal as could be, save for the fact that he happened to reincarnate as a sword.

The Great Norther Wall. The Dragon Knights. The Lords of the Winter Mountains. The Descendants of the Primordial Dragon. These are the various titles of the Grand Ducal Clan Ragnar, which boasted a rich, thousand year history. Theo Ragnar resolved himself to aiming for the throne of that very same clan. ‘These cursed chains weren’t something I could slip out of. They were meant to be broken with strength.’

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”