Chapter XLI (41)- A Dagger's Wisdom

Kizu did his best to not think about the sentient dagger over the next week. Unfortunately, Basil seemed a lot less reluctant to experiment with it.

“Pst,” Basil whispered to him in Enchanting C.

Kizu pretended to not hear, focusing on their lesson. Kateshi was explaining how enchantments on liquid objects could be applied. She demonstrated by enchanting a pool of water to glow red. It seemed to be an altogether higher degree of difficulty over the normal solid enchantments. Apparently gaseous enchantments were also possible, but only by absolute master enchanters. And only if it was first captured and contained in a vial or similar container.

“Pst,” Basil whispered again.

Kizu gave him a side-eye.

“I captured some rats, let’s stab them after class.”

“You sound insane.”

“I mean, I never claimed to be sane. You’re projecting onto me.”

“I am not going to stab rats.”

“Why not? They are known disease carriers. It only takes a single look into their beady little eyes to know how disgusting they are. You would be doing the world a favor by taking them out.”

“And what if I infected the knife with a disease as a result?”

Basil blinked. “That’s not possible. It’s a hunk of metal.”

“Have you ever met a sentient knife before?”

“I wouldn’t be so interested in this if I had, now would I?”

“Then you don’t know what’s possible or impossible when it comes to the knife. I remind you again that it wanted me to stab you.”

“I wonder what would have happened if you had,” Basil said. “You should have tried.”

“Kaga Kizu,” Kateshi said from the front. “Something you wish to share with the class?”

“No. Just discussing the uses of enchanted objects. Sorry.”

He gave Basil a side glare when the boy attempted to continue the conversation once Kateshi returned to her lecture. But Kizu knew he wouldn’t escape the boy’s pestering forever.

He fingered the wicked knife’s hilt under his uniform. Recently, he had taken to carrying it with him at all times, just in case Basil decided to try an experiment while he wasn’t there. The knife hadn’t spoken again, but Kizu strongly suspected its silence was due to lack of blood, not lack of bloodthirst.

After class Kiz escaped down to his little study corner under the stairs by the World Dungeon’s entrance. Despite how the stairs were murder on his broken leg, he still went to the study spot almost every day. Unlike every other study spot he had found in the academy, nobody else knew about this one. He liked the reliability of it.

He took out the enchanted tome of maps and leafed through it. He needed the library books to translate it. Something he absolutely dreaded attempting. His first Primordial translation had taken days just for a handful of sentences. An entire book might take years. Instead, he looked at the pictures drawn onto the pages. As he studied them, he noticed something peculiar. The 83rd page was different from when he studied it the day before. Notably different. Not just a few lines he might have forgotten. The page looked like an entirely different page. Even the outer walls of the map were shaped differently. He even double checked his notes on the side to make sure he was on the right page.

“It shifted,” Kizu muttered to himself. “The entire area shifted.”

If the dungeon actually changed as well, then the book he held in his hands was far more valuable than he first thought. It mapped out something unmappable.

Just to be sure, he took out some spare parchment and gave a quick sketch of a dozen different pages, deciding to compare them in the coming days. He wasn’t sure if that area alone could shift, or the entire dungeon moved.

But later in the week, his theory proved true. Every page he sketched was different from the page in the book. Some only subtly shifted. A pathway might widen or shrink slightly. But others drastically changed into different passages. Rooms opened and hallways closed, and they weren’t even always replaced. One page went entirely blank. He wished, not for the first time, that he could read the Primordial footnotes at the bottom of each page’s map.

Both the book and the amulet were invaluable for descending into the World Dungeon. He wondered why the cursed dagger had been buried with them though. It seemed out of place.

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Unless….

Kizu sighed. He pulled out the black dagger and unwrapped it. Then he ever so slightly pressed his thumb up against it.

A drop of blood soaked into the blade. He pulled his thumb back immediately. The pommel’s eye blinked awake.

“Hello!” it said to him cheerily. “I hope you have more than that. I’m parched beyond belief. It’s like giving a mummified man in the desert a mouthful of water.”

“I need to ask you about the phantom that led me to you,” Kizu said.

“Phantom?”

“Yes, the one with two different colored eyes. It’s been stalking me since I arrived at the academy.”

“If you feed me I can kill ethereal creatures like phantoms,” the dagger said happily. “Seriously, I’m low maintenance. Just like a pint or two every week. But don’t get the wrong idea. Ethereal creatures are terrible sources of a meal. I need blood before if you want anything done to them.”

“So you don’t know anything about my stalker?” Kizu thought about it. “Then how did it know about you?”

“How should I know? I’ve been asleep in that wooden box for an unknown duration.”

“What’s the last thing you remember from before the box?”

“Oh. I was down in the Labyrinth. My wielder wanted me to hunt vampiric spawn. I’m not super fond of the things though. They barely have a drop of blood left in them, and it usually tastes horrid. I was advocating to go back to the surface and maybe kill some puppies and kittens. I don’t usually like animal blood all that much, but it’s significantly sweeter in a baby.”

“Who was your wielder?”

“Oh, some guy named Roku. His aunt found me among some old artifacts down in a Labyrinth excavation. Gave me to him in her will. She never actually bothered to look into what I am though.”

Kizu thought the name Roku was familiar. He tried to recall where he might have heard it. But then again, it could also just be a coincidence.

“What color were Roku’s eyes?” Kizu asked.

But as he asked, the dagger’s own yellow eye drooped and closed. Kizu sighed and dripped a few more drops of blood on it before repeating the question.

“I don’t know. Black I think? Maybe brown. Something dark. I don’t really pay attention to those sorts of details.”

Just one color though. That meant Roku probably wasn’t his stalker.

“What’s his family name?”

“How should I remember? These sorts of things are hardly a priority in my life. I don’t even know your name.”

Kizu was hesitant to let an evil looking sentient blade know his identity. But after a moment of deliberation, he decided to give it his name and introduce himself. What was the worst that a name could do?

“Kaga Kizu? Nice alliteration. Gives it an extra punch. Your parents definitely knew what they were doing. Uncommon enough to stand out but short enough to be remembered.”

Kizu rolled his eyes. “I doubt they gave it that much thought.”

“Nah, humans put all sorts of thought into these things. Trust me,” the dagger’s eye winked at him. “Now, Kaga Kizu, how about we talk a bit about lunch?”

“Why were you created?” Kizu asked instead.

“What do you mean?”

“Enchanted items usually have a focused intent. You don’t have any glyphs etched into you. So, the enchantment must have been straight from the mage without any help.”

The blade scoffed at him. “Shows what you know about enchantments. The only intent I have is to get another drink. I hate feeling sleepy. I feel like I’m on the cusp of sleep all the time when I’m awake and not drinking. That’s even worse than wasting my time while asleep.”

Kizu empathized with the dagger. So much so, that he gave him a few more pity drops of blood. His red blood soaked into the black metal, leaving no sign of it.

“That tasted phenomenal. But it’s like feeding a starving man a cherry. Not exactly the most filling meal.”

“Are you related to vampiric spawn?” Kizu asked. “You both seem desperate for blood.

“Hardly. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m missing key features belonging to spawn. Like toenails and elbows.”

“But they didn’t create you?”

“No way. At least, I don’t think they did. My memories from that far back are a bit foggy. But I’m pretty sure my creator had blood. Like seventy percent certain. But I can do whatever those guys can do but better! They’re all just wannabes. I’m the real deal. Go stab someone and you’ll see.”

“What do you want besides blood?” Kizu asked. “If you had an unlimited supply, what would you do?”

“Probably go find something interesting to entertain me. You know what they say, bread and circus is all you need to find happiness.”

Bread and circus. He didn’t want to know what a blood thirsty dagger found entertaining.

“What do you know about divination magic?” Kizu changed the subject. He needed to get the conversation rolling again if he didn’t want to drain himself dry of blood. He needed that stuff to cast spells.

“Divination magic? Nothing. I’m more into the stabbing action over the spell sort of thing. Unless you want to stab a diviner, then I could maybe help you out. Have you tried looking in that book over there though?” The dagger’s eye gestured over to the divination tome Kizu had been studying for weeks.

“Of course. I’m almost finished with it.” He looked forward to when he could finally return the book and check out a new one.

“Oh. In that case you should try contacting the owner of it. The owners of those kinds of books are all eggheads. They usually scribble their name on the back page. I know because I once had a wielder who just sat around and studied me all day. Dripped chicken blood on me, just enough to keep me conscious while starving. Absolutely dreadful experience. Thought I might die of boredom.”

Not expecting much from a library book, Kizu still decided to humor the dagger’s idea. He opened it and flipped to the back. He gaped at the handwritten message.

“This book is the property of Kaga Anna.”

He didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. For weeks, he had been looking for something concrete that was tied to his sister. And he’d carried it around in his bag the entire time. Her schoolbooks had been donated to the library.