Stormrage

He walked over to Stormrage to study the spirit carefully. It was a jabbing/piercing-style blade. Not very suitable for cutting or slashing.

Whatever the case may be, a weapon was still a weapon. He swung it around, trying to make sense of it.

Stormrage had transformed from a beast-type Spirit into a weapon-type Spirit after he tampered with its soul. It was still a spirit, but it was fundamentally different from any normal one after he moulded it to fit his requirements.

One of the larger differences was that it couldn't enter the spirit world any longer. It now existed in a purely corporeal state, like a manifestation would, only, permanently.

"That was partly what I had in my subconscious when I moulded it. A manifestation that can remain by me at all times."

And it worked out in the end. The silver sword glistened with eagerness, as though ready to obey his commands.

"Soon," he said.

But there was one major problem with that.