The Nightmare Wizard
Chapter 112 — The Sword of Chaos

Chapter 112: Chapter 112 — The Sword of Chaos

William passed through the portal feeling only slight discomforts; the sensation was similar to his arrival in this place from the magical world, but on a smaller scale. Due to being transported so many times, his body had already grown accustomed to this type of travel.

Upon entering, he was surprised by the radical change: from a forest overlooking a desolate mine to a majestic hall. The walls were made entirely of marble, and its columns had reliefs that told various stories—wars, conflicts, and even the figure of a moon being torn apart with a great army beneath it. The next mural reflected the combat between these two great armies. These images resembled the story from the book he had read beneath the mansion.

Anubis followed him a second later, carrying the three unconscious humans suspended in the air like broken dolls.

As soon as they crossed, five figures approached from the ends of the hall: tall, imposing women with fierce gazes and athletic bodies. They were a combination of humans and jackals, reminiscent of warrior priestesses from a temple due to their ceremonial tunic-like attire. They had elongated ears, golden eyes, visible fangs, and thick tails that swayed tensely behind them.

"From today, he is your master. You will refer to him as The Supreme. His words are above mine, and any act of disobedience..."

He didn’t finish the sentence, but his gaze was lethal, showing a firm decision that would brook no appeal.

The women immediately knelt without saying a word. Anubis handed them the three unconscious humans, and the jackal women were surprised to see their master carefully carrying three human slaves.

"Take care of them; ensure they lack nothing," he ordered.

Then, he guided William toward a side stone door adorned with multicolored gems. With a wave of his hand, he opened it, and both entered a gigantic study. The study had a desk custom-made for the giant jackal, who stood over two and a half meters tall. Huge bookshelves laden with scrolls and stacks of books, in addition to ancient maps hung on the walls, suggested that Anubis had been searching for something, as the maps had many scratches with comments about his findings.

William gazed around the room, impressed by Anubis’s private collection.

"Give me a moment," Anubis said, approaching one of the walls.

There, he began to turn and slide several hidden locks camouflaged within the wall’s cracks. Each click made the wall tremble until finally, a secret hatch opened with a low hiss.

Behind it, there was only an empty room with a shelf in the middle, and on it, a sword sheathed in a black scabbard with purple engravings that shone as if breathing.

Anubis reached out and took the weapon; a painful groan escaped his throat. His muscles tensed, his fangs clenched. The mere act of holding it caused him obvious pain, but he held firm.

He advanced to William and, without a word, placed the sword on the desk, stepping back with absolute respect.

Just then, two servant women entered. One carried a tray with two golden cups, the other a selection of unknown and unappetizing appetizers: small tentacles, fragments of black meat, and fruits that seemed to subtly move.

Anubis shot them a murderous glare, and both retreated visibly trembling; it was clear they had arrived at an inopportune moment.

"Supreme," he said in a controlled voice, "this sword has been passed down for millions of years within my family. According to records, one of our ancestors crafted the sword using only pure black steel, which is well-known to be impossible, because black steel, when heated, becomes more volatile and transforms the purer it gets. The most skilled smiths can only create weapons with 70% black steel; my family is the only one that has achieved two pure weapons. The difference is that this is not a common sword: it is alive, has a mind of its own, and anyone unworthy suffers a violent reaction upon touching it... as I did a moment ago. During its forging, it absorbed the soul of my ancestor, erasing all his memories as if he were a newborn."

Intrigued by the story, William raised his hand and placed it on the hilt. He expected some attack from the sword, but nothing happened; there were no wounds or even a prick.

The sword allowed itself to be taken, and a voice emerged in his mind; it sounded like a small child just waking up.

"For centuries I have slept, awaiting a master like you. I am the Sword of Chaos, and it is an honor to be wielded by a Supreme."

The blade emitted a blinding flash, and before William could react, the sword plunged into his chest.

"Agh!" William exclaimed, surprised by the sudden situation, letting out a groan of pain. But there was no pain; the instant the blade touched his flesh, it simply disappeared, as if it had entered his body without cutting him.

"W-what was that?" William asked, bewildered.

Anubis smiled for the first time with genuine satisfaction.

"It’s a living weapon. It stores itself within its wielder’s soul. You just need to imagine it in your hand... and it will appear."

To demonstrate, Anubis raised his own hand, and his sword emerged with a soft glow, as if rising from his palm. Then he made it vanish with the same gesture.

William imitated him, imagined the sword, and there it was: it was lighter than a feather, but when he gripped the hilt, it felt incredibly solid. Intrigued by the sensation, he took his old sword and struck it with the new one.

The blade of his old weapon was cut like butter. Effortlessly. Without resistance, which left William completely stunned; he hadn’t expected to destroy his sword with no effort at all.

"Impossible..." he whispered.

Anubis watched him carefully before saying in a soft voice, "I can repair it... even improve it a little, if you wish to keep it."

William hesitated for only a second before nodding. Anubis lowered his gaze with almost visible relief on his face. Deep down, he feared being discarded; he had gathered all his courage to become a Supreme’s slave... and still, a part of him feared being replaced at the slightest hint of something better, as it was common knowledge that Supremes grew too fast and were almost invincible, so not just anyone could stand by their side. Even his ancestor, who was once a Supreme’s right hand, possessed a power that had never been seen again; it was said he was just one step away from having a Supreme’s power himself.

Due to this feeling of inferiority compared to his ancestor, he feared his new master might discard him on a whim, but now it seemed his new master was not someone who valued things for their utility, but for emotions.