Song Demon King

A black blade of her own...

Kuina's breathing quickened involuntarily. Her gaze firm, she looked around.

The sea of famous blades covering the mountains and fields left her dazzled and entranced, overwhelmed by this paradise for all swordsmen.

"Famous blades, famous blades, famous blades! Every single one is at least on the level of one of the Fifty Skillful Grade Blades, and some are even better. What is going on?"

"These were all made by one person? This three-tomoe mark feels strangely familiar..."

Though her heart was full of questions, Kuina silently surveyed her surroundings, searching for the blade that felt most familiar to her.

Who knew how long passed before she stepped onto a circular stone platform. Its familiar, ancient shape and texture made her stop instinctively.

"Wado Ichimonji? No, it's an imitation. But why does this imitation feel so familiar?"

Gripping the hilt and taking an iaijutsu stance, she found that both its feel and balance were exactly the same as Wado Ichimonji's.

"This is the one..."

"So it's this one. Then get some good sleep and call its name in your dreams. I don't have the time to let you and it understand one another over hundreds of years. Remember, only through a mirror can you see your truest self."

The voice gradually faded away. Just as Kuina fell into confusion, the world spun around her, and a gentle sea breeze once again brushed against her cheeks.

The sky was azure, and the familiar dojo and village lay behind her, plunging her into even greater bewilderment.

"This is... Shimotsuki Village?"

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Her feet moved instinctively as she unleashed Soru in an instant. Flawless, pure sword energy streaked in every direction. Kuina spun around, her eyes filled with deep wariness.

"Who are you? Why are you