My parents had come and gone. They dropped off plenty of supplies, and left with even more packed into their bags. My time here was netting a whole host of materials from all the monsters that I killed, and I had them sell some of it for me. From tanned hides and cleaned bones, to organs preserved by alchemical compounds. It was a big harvest, and my share of it would net me a lot of gold!

I’d also ordered some more entertainment for our next supply drop, and not just because I wanted to read shit. It was genuinely for training. To have something that would make me happy, which I could then resist with my menace magic.

I made my way out of the base, stretching in my metal armor. Moonwash could now work with fantastreel well enough to fix up my gear. My friend too was getting stronger.

My sword on the other hand had seen better days. Moonwash often sharpened it for me, but I noticed that the metal had gotten darker overtime. Perhaps it was because of the constant use, and the constant blood and gore that hugged its surface. No amount of maintenance could maintain it forever…

Oh well. It still works fine. Maybe even better.

A lot of that surely had to do with my building strength. Some of my Mutations had already reached the Level of 13. Luine and Baston were quick to remind me just how ridiculous that pace was, and I loved it.

Seriously. Are they trying to feed my ego? Because that’s how you feed my ego.

Tendrils of menace magic wormed itself out of my skin absentmindedly, and I weaved it into the sword. My emotions flared up ever so slightly to make the process easier, but the rest was yet to come.

I made my way back into the forest, after nearly a week of rest. Already, I could feel the presence of low-level monsters, somehow already having forgotten about the threat I represented just because I was absent for a few days.

It is time to remedy that.

An evil smile spilled out of my face as my emotions flared up, and so did my magic rage in turn. A tiger in the low level 10s stalked me, and I beheaded it in one swift motion.

“Who’s next? Who’s fucking next!?”

I charged, and monsters died by the dozen. From gigantic beetles called bigtles, to scurrying cat-like wolverines called catherines. I’m sorry to everyone who has that name, or maybe they’re happy about it! I don’t know!

A floader swept down from above. It was a flying spider born over level ten, a monster that did not naturally possess wings, but made the necessary membranes out of their own webs in between the legs. Their flight was silent, if not very fast, and I swatted this one’s ambush before it could ever take place.

All the legs on one side fell off upon my attack, and the monster immediately veered off course. It kicked off a tree before it fell, lunging for my gut to try and sink its fangs into me. The attempt was swiftly shut down by a kick, because my hooves were good for that too. I gleefully stomped its head into mush afterward.

My rampage throughout the forest continued, until I found something over the level of twenty. My level sense had truly seen some rapid improvements in the days I spent indulging in my most base and violent desires.

So I did it some more.

My opponent this time was glassmaw. A monster with a transparent body like that of a jellyfish, shaped like a horned warg except with a head entirely too big, attached to which was an even more oversized jaw filled with sharp teeth.

A wild Luine dropped down from the trees to warn me, just before I decided to confront the beast.

“What?” I snapped. My emotions were still on their menacing arc, and I only stoked the flames further to make up for this delay. That Luine caused!

“That’s a glassmaw.”

“I know.”

“Even I would hesitate to take those guys on. Not that I’d lose, but they can actually deal damage to me.”

“Then assassinate it if I lose. But I’m confident.” So saying, I flared up my magic once again, and slammed every bit of intimidation into my foe. From my eyes, to my aura, and even entire bullets of menace magic. The monster jumped to the side, but was still hit, its physical prowess far weaker than a bear’s even at a similar level.

And then the tendrils of mind magic came. They zoomed through the air like lightning, extending from the creature’s brain and seeking my own. It was stopped by my natural resistance, but it grew closer with every passing moment, for that was what mind magic was. Insidious and vile. Even without direct contact, it was enough to whisper primal thoughts of pain, suffering and fear. A laughable attempt drowned out by my menace mana and my own roiling emotions within.

I continued to charge, heedless of it all. The entity was not expecting this, and I reached the glassmaw before it could react. My greatsword reaped a massive harvest across its shoulder, and then another. I was already running before the monster could even shriek. It missed a swat of its paw, and I continued to cut into the creature’s flank as I ran across its side and then around, keeping a wide berth around its head and the terrifying maw therein.

I then noticed the wounds on its jelly flesh growing writhing tendrils that tugged and hugged each other, closing the wounds and the damage that I’d caused. The transparent flesh could very quickly repair itself.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Let’s cut something that won’t regenerate then!

The mind magic finally reached into my brain, before I could enact that plan. A splitting headache hit me like a freight train, followed by raw and unbridled terror. I wanted to run, crawl, die, and kill myself, that was all I could do! Except it’s not. What I want to do, more than anything, is to kill this motherfucker and feast upon its flesh!

My demonic brain resisted the attempt, and tendrils of my own magic attacked the very mind mana that linked us, pushing it out of my brain. Such a thing was possible with my menace mana, whereas mind magic had also shown throughout this fight, capabilities that could never be replicated with most other kinds of magic. To be this active in proximity or even inside another being was commonly accepted as something that just didn’t happen, but there was an exception to every rule. At least the element was still limited in a lot of ways, complex brainwashing couldn’t typically be done during a pitched battle such as this. Only mind-numbing pain and the rawest of emotions could be transmitted in such short notice.

I resumed my grand plan and reached my opponent's flank. A back kick managed to hit me before I could start, making me roll and stagger, even break a bone or three. But I quickly regained my bearings and began hacking into the glassmaw’s leg.

It shrieked at the first strike, and tried to jump away at the second. I quickly followed, and bone cracked in the next. Another attack widened the fractures, and one final beautiful slash snapped it entirely. The glassmaw could walk straight no longer.

It let out a long howl, and the headache of its magic was renewed, but it was nothing I could not ignore. I just kept on going, breaking every leg, made easier by how the bone was visible through its transparent flesh. I could aim easily for the weaker parts, but not the joints. I’d quickly come to learn that dislocated parts would just be stuck back together by the jelly flesh.

The guts, the intestine, livers and other things. I also aimed for all the other vitals that were in easy reach. The glassmaw forced itself to stand, carried only by its jelly-like musculature. It met me for one final bout, and I ran around it to evade its crushing maw.

A smart move, that. Targeting my sense of honor and respect. Emotions that I did have, but had little sway on me. Unless when it’s fun, and I was very confident in my victory.

I stabbed it in the back, along with many other kinds of attacks, until the creature Finally. Fucking. Died.

“I told you so,” I whispered aloud before Luine could even make her appearance.

“Yes, yes. More respect for your elders, maybe?”

“Do you want that?”

“Heh. No. Not really.” She bumped her fist with mine as I collapsed to the ground. “You really showed me what for back there. Good job.”

“Thanks. Now carry me.” I made grabby motions with my hand.

~~~

“This is amazing.” Moonwash gushed over my sword, the next time I had it sharpened.

“What? You’ve seen it like a thousand times before. Hell, you made it yourself. So good job patting your own back, Moonwash.” I spun the lever of our big magic well. It was actually my idea, which Moonwash brought to fruition. She created an industrial-sized contraption that spun a ridiculous amount of cloud feathers to create water and then routed all that water into a faucet. I was currently filling out a bucket.

“It’s exactly because I’ve seen it before that I am amazed. This is not the same sword you once had.”

“Uhm. I’m pretty sure no one switched out my baby. I would know. Also, I should name it.”

“Cursword.”

“What?”

“You could name your sword that.”

“Well sure. I could. But why would I?”

“Because this is now a cursed weapon.”

I blinked. “Wait, seriously!?”

“Yes.”

“Because of how often I’ve used it, coated in menace magic…” I took out the knife that Moonwash gifted me. “How about this? I have been feeding it menace magic as you asked. It’s more full of the stuff if anything, because the mana on my sword just gets cycled back into me. It’s very cool actually, it takes a whole lot less of my mental power and focus capacity to keep it up once I’ve finished the weave.”

“No.” Moonwash hovered her hand just above the object. “The knife has actually not become a cursed weapon, although I can feel something from it…”

“Haha. That sounds like bullshit.”

“It’s not. More importantly, whatever you do with that sword, it has definitely become cursed far faster. Hmm. Dump some more menace magic into the knife.”

I did as she said.

“Just as I thought. Most of it just dissipates into the air anyway, so it doesn’t actually matter that you spend more of your mana on this. Somehow, you cycling menace magic through your sword might be a better way of cursing something.”

“I see.”

“I want you to cycle your magic through that knife too. And then I have another theory.”

“Alright, I can do that. What’s the theory? Also, what does my sword being cursed do?”

“Your sword might be becoming cursed or infused faster because there’s a purpose and a will behind the magic cast into it, and it then enacts that purpose. As for what the infusion does… I’m not sure yet. The curse seems… young.”

“Heh. Bullshitting again.”

She ignored me. “From what I know of other cursed weapons, because I have only rarely been able to get my hands on them… Well, the most obvious thing is that they drive their hosts mad, which this one isn’t doing a good job of yet. As for beneficial effects, they just deal more damage, somehow. Swords slice deeper, spears penetrate harder, hammers break bones more easily. It can also come with effects that you’d expect from curses anyway, like making someone delirious, causing greater pain, making wounds harder to heal. That sort of thing.”

“Hey! I’m able to do most of those things with menace magic!”

She nodded. “That’s good. It would require testing, and we should get some concrete data now before the sword matures further. I would think that it would take on the effects you normally put into it. So intimidation effects, anti-healing, and others.”

“Wait, would that make me threading menace magic through it redundant, then?”

“I don’t know.” There was an excited quality to her voice. “Would it stack? Would it not? That’s what we should find out.”

“Yes.” I smiled. It was good to see my friend having fun, even if it could be so hard to tell most of the time.