Hardcore Exorcist: Reborn to Grind

I look around.

I’ve been pulled into a shrine deep in the forest. The building’s a wreck—moss-covered, worn down by the weather, clearly abandoned.

I step toward the main hall. It’s an impressive structure, tall enough that I have to tilt my head back to see the roof.

It must have been grand once. Why let something like this rot?

Then again, all that thrives must wither, they say. Nothing lasts forever.

At this point, no one’s gonna mind me wearing shoes inside.

I wander the worship hall, where shafts of light pierce through holes in the rotten wooden roof.

Then something catches my eye—a lone sword, enshrined.

I recognize it. The same sword Kuro Kemurishima wielded.

It’s stuck, unsheathed, in the altar, daring me to pull it free.

I slip one hand into my pocket and stroke my chin with the other, sizing up the blade.

The metal gleams, reflecting a small figure—watching me.

I speak to the sword.

“Send me back.”

...Eh?

“I want to go back. Right now.”

You sensed me...? Well, aren’t you something else. No wonder you call yourself the pinnacle of martial arts.

“I’m leaving. No need for chit-chat.”

Wait. Just listen. Hear me out—

“No thanks.”

Hey! I waited for you, looking all pull-me-out-of-here! Where’s your manners, Ikaku Akamuro?

Smoke starts curling from the blade embedded in the altar. The smell of burning fills the air.

Damn it. This sword smokes. I hate it.

The smoke thickens, swallowing everything around me.

Shadows rise. Figures form and fall under the sword’s ruthless swings.

Blood splatters. Corpses pile up.

Just as the slaughter seems to end, another swordsman appears, claiming the blade. 

The carnage reignites—screams, grudges, pain, curses—an endless storm of hatred.

I grant power to those who seek it. Great power. I’ve fulfilled countless promises.
Many have fought over me. Always, I rest in the hands of a swordsman—one strong enough to wield me.
With me, a swordsman pushes harder, trains harder. When someone stronger appears, I simply change hands.

“You’re fickle. Aren’t you the one controlling the swordsmen?”

Heh heh heh… Who can say? When it comes to power, whether one has free will is trivial. Kuro Kemurishima was decent, but falling to someone without a sword…? That means you’re stronger.
So, prove it. Show me your worth.

The sword spews thick smoke. Cracks in its blade pulse with heat—that’s the source.

From the haze, an armored warrior steps forward.

“There’s a misunderstanding.”

Hmm? A misunderstanding?

“I don’t want your power.”

Scared? Too bad. I’m already interested.

“You’re a pushy salesman. I said no.”

Why not? You should want power. Avenger. Your dark flame resonates with me, guided you here.

“Why do all you magical tools peek inside minds?”

Heh heh heh. You can’t hide from me. Now, show me your power.

“Let me be clear. First, I don’t want you. Second, after seeing what you do, I still don’t want you. And third, hearing there’s a catch, I want you even less.”

Guh! Why won’t you want me?! You haven’t even seen my true power!

“Don’t you just make smoke?”

Well... I can do other things too!

“Oh? Like what?”

The smoke I produce is special. My wielder controls it like their own limbs. They can sense through it, feel their surroundings as if it’s an extension of themselves!

“Anything else?”

Uh... if you use it in a car, you can die from carbon monoxide poisoning.

“And?”

And?! It’s great for smoking food—jerky, you know. Oh! And while it smokes, the blade heats up. You can cook meat on it!

“So you just make smoke.”

N-no, that’s not— Hey! Are you even listening?!

“You fail. With such trashy power, how do you think you can control a human’s mind? You disgrace magical tools. Know your place. Find someone else.”

Gnnnh! How dare you! Hah!

The sword pulls free, spinning behind me. I track it with my eyes.

A girl, seemingly from nowhere, catches it and brandishes the blade.

She’s tiny—144 centimeters tall. The tips of her white hair glow red-hot. Her eyes burn with sadistic fire.

It’s a child in a white and red shrine maiden outfit.

“My name is Ashbrand. A thousand years ago, when I cut down a great demon, its burning blood cursed my blade. The breath of a fire monster lives within me. And yet… you’ve been rude the whole time! For making a fool of the Great Ashbrand—”

“Smoky Brat, I’ll say this once.”

“S-Smoky Brat?!”

“If you want that blade intact, send me back now.”

“Hah! ‘Intact,’ you say? Bold words, Ikaku Akamuro.”

I stride up, grab the smoky sword she holds, and crush it in my grip.

“Gyaaaaah?!”

“I said once.”

“N-not that it matters! I’m a demon sword! Being broken is nothing. Watch this!”

The shattered blade restores itself. The brat swings it, pride on her face.

I grab and crush it again.

“Waaah! Stop the grab-and-squeeze!”

She places her hands over the fragments, regenerating them with what looks like telekinesis.

“It’s nothing…! Stop! Stop the grab-and-squeeze! Aaaah!”

Once restored, she bolts.

“Phew. If I get this far... He’s chasing me?! Stop! Don’t come closer! You’re scary! Chasing me silent like that! Stop the grab-and-squeeze! Please! Gyaaaaah!”

Then she vanishes in a puff of smoke. No chasing her now.

Just then, a presence looms behind me.

The brat’s back, panting, sword ready.

“Come any closer and I’ll stab you! Grrrrr!”

She’s trying to scare me like a frightened kitten.

“Damn it. Why can this human act free in my world? Usually, when I pull someone here, I control their mind completely...”

“Smoky Brat, giving up yet?”

“It’s Ashbrand!”

“Whatever.”

“Tch... Fine. If you don’t want my power, I don’t care. Don’t come crying later.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

“No need to swear... Hmph. Then you don’t have to show me your power.”

“So... you’ll send me back?”

“However! You’ll atone for making me misunderstand.”

“Hah. Her too?”

“Hey! I can hear you! Don’t like your attitude either!”

I straighten my tie, stand tall, and clear my throat. “My apologies. I was out of line.”

“Eh... even being honest now... Hmph. Trying to win me over with that little personality crack? Clever for once!”

“That wasn’t my plan.”

“In light of your attitude, I’ll forgive you for making me misunderstand.”

My crime somehow just got lighter.

“So, how do I get back from this fine shrine?”

“Oh, simple. Win. Defeat me, and I’ll send you back.”

“I’m surprised. That actually sounds easy.”

“Hey! That’s rude! Apologize!”

Smoky Brat’s face flames bright red as she jumps up and down.