On a bright and cheerful morning, just as the sun peeked through the curtains and cast a warm glow across the room, Acetash was peacefully snoozing away, dreaming of grand adventures and perhaps a nice breakfast. Suddenly, a strange noise shattered his blissful sleep—an odd, muffled snoring that seemed to echo in his ears. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up slowly, tilting his head in confusion. "Huh… what's that noise?" he mumbled, trying to pinpoint the source. Just as he was about to dismiss it as his imagination or perhaps the groan of the old house, a new sound erupted—smooth, high-pitched, and utterly elegant. It was like a voice from a well-trained opera singer, but with an edge of fury that could melt steel.
"WHAT?! Did you call me… noisy?!" the voice roared, and suddenly, from nowhere, a shimmering sword materialized out of thin air. Yes, out of *absolutely nowhere*. It floated mid-air, spinning slightly as if annoyed at being summoned without warning. The sword's voice, dripping with indignation, reverberated through the room, making Acetash jump so high he nearly knocked over his bedside table. With a nervous gulp, he stared at the talking weapon, blinking in disbelief. "Uh… did I just hear that right?" he muttered, eyes wide. The sword, clearly offended, glared back at him, its blade gleaming with an almost sarcastic shine.
"Did you call me noisy?" it repeated, voice rising to a dramatic crescendo. "I am an honorable sword of great renown! I do not take kindly to being disturbed in my slumber—or being called 'noisy' by some random, sleep-deprived mortal!" Acetash's jaw dropped as he realized he'd somehow managed to wake up a sentient, talking sword, which was now glaring at him as if it wanted to give him a lesson in etiquette.
"Whoa, whoa! I didn't call you noisy!" Acetash stammered, raising his hands defensively. "It's just… I heard snoring, and… well, I thought maybe I was dreaming or hearing things. I didn't mean to offend your honor, sir sword!" The sword paused, seemingly considering his words, before giving a huff that sounded suspiciously like a dismissive snort.
"Humph," it retorted, "If you're going to wake me up with your pathetic snoozing, you could at least have the decency to apologize properly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a reputation to uphold—and a nap to reclaim!" With a dramatic flourish, the sword floated back into the air, spinning lazily as if it had never been angry at all. Acetash blinked, rubbing his eyes again, unsure whether he was still dreaming or if his morning had just taken a turn for the bizarre.
From that day forward, every time Acetash heard a suspicious noise in the house, he couldn't help but wonder—was it just the house settling, or was it the legendary, high-pitched, very annoyed sword, ready to call him out on his snoozing? One thing was certain: mornings would never be the same again.
Acetash, rubbing his bleary eyes and stifling a massive yawn, blinked groggily at the floating figure before him. "Huh? … Wait, is that…?" His eyes widened as he finally took in the full sight of the sword—an astonishing masterpiece of craftsmanship. The handle was a gleaming handle of pure gold, intricately carved and set with shimmering diamonds and precious gems that sparkled like stars caught in a jewel box. The blade itself was a dazzling silver, embedded with sparkling gems that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly light. But what truly caught his attention was the rose made of deep blue quartz, delicately perched at the sword's base, giving it an air of mysterious elegance and strange beauty.
"Wow," Acetash muttered, blinking in disbelief. "That's... a jewelry sword? I mean, it's beautiful, but… what kind of sword is this? It looks like it belongs in a palace, not just some random weapon." The sword hovered proudly, as if it knew it was the most stunning thing in the room, radiating an air of aristocratic arrogance mixed with a touch of mystique. Acetash couldn't help but wonder—was this sword enchanted? Was it some legendary artifact? Or maybe… was it just a really fancy decoration? Either way, he was pretty sure that waking up to a jewel-encrusted, gem-tipped sword wasn't exactly part of his usual morning routine.
He rubbed his eyes again, still half-asleep, but the sight of the ornate weapon had firmly etched itself into his mind. "Well," he said with a nervous chuckle, "if you're the 'noisy' sword, then I guess I better watch my step… or I might wake up a royal treasure instead." And with that, he gave the sword a cautious glance, wondering what other surprises this bizarre morning had in store.
The sword swung dramatically through the air, its gem-encrusted blade shimmering as it cut a graceful arc. Its voice, sharp and regal, echoed fiercely: "I'm not noisy! You bastard... don't you dare call me noisy again, or I'll turn your life into a nightmare you won't forget!" The words resonated with a mix of indignation and pride, as if the sword took personal offense to being misunderstood or insulted. Acetash blinked in surprise, eyes wide, as the jewel-encrusted weapon seemed to glow with an almost fiery aura, its elegance masking a fiery temper. He hesitated, realizing that this wasn't just any ordinary sword—this was a weapon with attitude, and it clearly had no intention of being called "noisy" without consequences.
Acetash, still rubbing his eyes and stifling another yawn, held up his hands defensively, trying to soothe the fiery sword. "Alright, alright... calm down! I just woke up, I need to process what's going on here," he muttered, reaching out cautiously to grab the jewel-encrusted hilt. But as soon as his hand made contact, a jolt of shock shot through him—"Ouch!" he exclaimed, dropping the sword instantly. The weapon spun mid-air and clattered to the floor with a resounding clang. The sword's voice boomed with fury, dripping with contempt: "Don't touch me, you little pest! Why am I stuck here with an imbecile like you?..." Its tone grew even more furious, practically snarling. "You... do you even know who the fuck I am?!"
Acetash froze, eyes wide with shock, as the sword's words hit him like a freight train. His heart pounded in his chest, realizing that this wasn't just some ordinary weapon—this was an ancient, powerful, and incredibly irritable artifact with a personality to match. He took a cautious step back, trying to keep his composure, while the sword continued to rant, its voice echoing with a mixture of disdain, fury, and a hint of pride. For all his life, Acetash had never imagined waking up to a talking, cursing, gem-encrusted sword that thought it was royalty. This was definitely going to be one strange day.
Acetash's eyes widened in shock as he took a cautious step back, his voice trembling with disbelief. "Pardon?! Me? Am I supposed to know who the hell you are?" he blurted out, staring at the jewel-encrusted sword with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. The sword, floating arrogantly in mid-air, snapped back with a regal, haughty tone, "Huh?! Of course you have to know me... I am the Princess of Swords, the legendary blade of kings and conquerors! How could you possibly not recognize me? Do you have no respect for history, mortal?"
Acetash, feeling both annoyed and oddly amused by the sword's pompous attitude, smirked slightly, rubbing his temple as he muttered under his breath, "God... such a talker… and so full of himself." His eyes flicked over the ornate sword, pondering whether this was some kind of ancient artifact with a massive ego or just a very, very dramatic weapon. "And why is that so?" he asked, crossing his arms skeptically, already feeling the beginning of an argument that could last for hours. The sword, undeterred, puffed up even more, ready to defend its royal status in the most flamboyant way possible.
The sword, with an air of regal arrogance, snorted loudly. "Hmph! I must be in the hand of the rightful owner… not some stupid fucking loser kid like you," it declared, its voice dripping with disdain. "I am Tania, the greatest fairy princess ever of Senvinte! And you? You're just a pathetic excuse for a wielder, loser..." Acetash, trying to stay calm despite the chaos, simply muttered, "So you're Tania..." and reached out again, grabbing the sword cautiously. But the moment his hand made contact, a surge of electric shocks shot through his body, causing him to yelp and jerk back.
"Don't touch me, you moron…! Don't…! Stop!!!" the sword screeched, sparks flying as it pulsed with energy. CURSEYOU! You will be cursed… son of… h-hoe!" The last words echoed loudly, and the room seemed to crackle with the surge of magical chaos. Acetash stumbled back, his face a mixture of shock, pain, and disbelief, realizing he was now caught in a wild, foul-mouthed argument with a jewel-encrusted, royal fairy sword that clearly had a vendetta—and a mouth to match its fiery personality.
A massive blast of electrical shock erupted from the sword, filling the room with a deafening crackle of thunder and a blinding flash of sparks. The air thickened with smoke, swirling around the stunned figure of Acetash, who staggered but somehow remained standing. Coughing and blinking through the haze, he straightened up and, with a surprisingly confident smirk, said, "I got immune to this, talker sword…" His voice echoed with a mix of defiance and amusement as he stared at the now-smoking Tania.
Tania, her voice trembling with a mixture of outrage and disbelief, sputtered, "Wha-what…? You can't be serious… my electricity is far beyond your tolerance, mortal! Do you have a death wish or are you just incredibly stupid?" Sparks still crackled around her, her voice echoing with the pride of a princess scorned and a power insulted. The smoky aftermath left a tense silence, with the legendary fairy sword glaring fiercely at Acetash, realizing he might just be more stubborn—and more immune—than she'd ever anticipated.
Acetash, with a dark, almost sinister smile spreading across his face, leaned closer to the smoking sword, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and menace. "I'm a devil... actually," he said softly, but with an unsettling tone that made the air feel heavy. His smile deepened into something creepier, and a dark aura began to swirl around him—one that could send shivers down anyone's spine. "Don't... you dare forget that, now. Don't... you?" His voice was low and threatening, like a predator warning its prey.
Tania, trembling with a mix of shock and indignation, snapped, "So you're not human?! That now makes sense." Her voice quivered with a mixture of surprise and frustration, sparks still crackling ominously around her.
Acetash chuckled darkly, amused by her reaction. "You a fairy in sword shape?" he teased, arching an eyebrow and playfully circling her with a mocking grin. "Or is that just your little disguise, huh?"
Suddenly, the sword, overwhelmed and flustered, squealed in a high-pitched voice, "Nooooo!!! H-Stop shaking me!!!" as she flailed wildly, sparks flying and her voice rising in frantic protest. Acetash couldn't help but laugh, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he continued to toy with her, thoroughly entertained by the chaotic scene unfolding before him.
In the midst of the chaos, Acetash, with a nonchalant smirk, raised a hand to the smoking sword and quipped, "Stop shocking me with your mana… it's useless now, huh huh." His voice was light, almost teasing, as if he was bored of the ongoing barrage of electrical attacks. Despite the sparks still crackling around him, he continued to stand tall, unfazed by the storm of energy that Tania was unleashing. Then, in a moment that only added to the mounting tension, he lazily looked around and mockingly called out, "Someone help meee!" his tone dripping with sarcasm as he played up the helpless victim. But his grin only grew wider as he turned back to the furious fairy sword, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Huh huh huh… there's no one left to save you now," he murmured softly, his words sealing the fact that he was fully aware of his own power—and that he had no intention of backing down anytime soon. The room seemed to tighten around him, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats, as Acetash prepared for whatever came next, confident in his dominance over this fiery, magical chaos.
Tania, her voice tinged with frustration and disappointment, huffed, "You're not fun at all." Her fiery energy flickered as she continued to unleash her electrical fury, clearly annoyed by Acetash's calm and teasing demeanor despite the chaos. Acetash, raising his hands with a mixture of exasperation and amusement, sighed deeply and said, "Oh, stop being nasty for a second. For the love of God." His tone was tired but playful, as if he was dealing with a stubborn child rather than a legendary fairy sword. Just as she was about to protest again, Acetash, with a quick flick of his magic, cast a brilliant spell that silenced Tania's voice instantly. The moment he wove his magic skillfully, her words were cut off mid-sentence, leaving only a stunned silence in the room. The sword, now completely mute, hovered in place, as Acetash looked at her with a smug smile, clearly pleased with his cleverness. The tension in the room shifted, the only sound now being the faint crackle of residual sparks, as Acetash relaxed, knowing he'd gained the upper hand—at least for now.