Murasame

Deciding to ignore the incident with Darryl, Marcus delved deeper into the explanation of cursed weapons.

"Alright, Constantine, let's go back to cursed weapons," Marcus began, his tone serious. "While many cursed weapons are indeed enchanted by witches, there are other sources as well. For example, some cursed weapons are corrupted divine weapons."

Constantine's interest was piqued, and he leaned in closer to listen, a little dumbfounded.

"Corrupted divine weapons?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in curiosity.

Marcus nodded solemnly. "Yes, that's right. Divine weapons, imbued with the power of gods or higher beings, can become corrupted over time, twisted by magic or other dark forces and even their wielders, depending on their nature. These corrupted weapons retain their abilities but also carry a taint that can corrupt the wielder."

"Wait, what do you mean by 'divine'?" Constantine interjected, his curiosity piqued.

Marcus paused, considering his words carefully before responding. "Well, Constantine, 'divine' refers to the realm of gods and higher beings. Higher being are entities with divinity who lack certain aspects and can't become full gods. However, while they're not as powerful as the major deities, they still wield considerable power and influence."

Constantine's eyes widened in surprise. "So, you're saying that gods actually exist?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

Marcus nodded solemnly. "Yes, that's correct. While some gods may have perished over the ages, many still roam the world behind the Veil, usually unseen by mortal eyes."

"What about the Church of Aeloria?" he asked.

Marcus's expression grew somber, and he paused for a moment before responding. "Ah, the Church," he murmured, his tone heavy with weariness. "Yes, it's all real. Aeloria…holds an important role to us. The Host is also real – although they rarely involve themselves with worldly affairs. However, the Church still wields considerable influence both in the human world and behind the Veil."

Constantine's eyes widened with interest. "So, what's their role in all of this?" he pressed, eager for more information.

Marcus hesitated, a shadow passing over his features. "There are… complications between the Church and the Outcasts," he explained carefully. "But it's not yet time for you to know all this."

Constantine nodded, sensing the gravity of Marcus's words. "I understand," he replied, knowing by now when to give up. The gods are real – well, of course they are. In a world where magic and monsters were abundant, the presence of the divine didn't seem that far fetched. He had a lot to process but now wasn't the time.

He knew that in due time, the secrets of the Outcasts would be revealed to him, but for now, he focused on the task at hand: choosing his weapon and preparing for the battles that lay ahead.

Suddenly, Constantine felt a surge of energy from the far end of the room, drawing him towards it. Absentmindedly, he followed the pulsing energy and found himself drawn to a glass case nestled in a corner of the weapons room. Inside, an aura of power emanated from a magnificent ōdachi, its form concealed within a sleek black scabbard adorned with golden accents.

The scabbard was polished to a shiny finish and a vibrant red hue adorned the hilt, woven with golden threads that shimmered in the dim light. The golden handguard, although smaller than on most katanas he'd seen, displayed intricate designs; the sword looked both sinister and incredibly elegant.

Though the blade was sheathed, Constantine could sense sharpness from it. Yet, there was something else, something darker. A malevolent energy seemed to radiate from the sword, sending a shiver down Constantine's spine.

As Constantine stood before the ōdachi, he felt a mix of awe and unease. Despite the sword's allure, he hesitated to touch the glass case, wary of the feeling it gave him.

Marcus and Kento approached Constantine, noticing the peculiar expression on his face as he gazed at the ōdachi. Sensing his curiosity, Kento put a hand on his shoulder.

"Constantine, you shouldn't linger too close to that sword," Kento warned, his voice tinged with concern. "It's not safe, even for us."

Perplexed, Constantine turned to Kento, his expression furrowed in confusion. "What is this sword?" he asked.

Marcus stepped forward, his expression grave. "That sword's name is Murasame," he explained in a solemn tone. "It's one of the most powerful and most dangerous weapons we posess. It's here for safekeeping, not to be used."

As Constantine absorbed Marcus's words, he felt a chill run down his spine. Murasame. The name seemed to echo in his mind. With a nod, he stepped away from the glass case, the allure of the sword tempered by the warning of its potential peril.

Intrigued by it, Constantine turned to Kento, his curiosity piqued. "Murasame… Why does that name sound so familiar?" he asked.

Kento's expression grew serious as he began to recount the folklore surrounding the sword. "Murasame, which means "autumn rain", is a blade often mentioned in Japanese folklore," he explained. "It's said to be one of the Tenka-Goken, or 'Five Swords Under Heaven,' renowned for its unparalleled sharpness and deadly cutting ability. There are many legends regarding its origin but we know that this sword here was forged by the famed swordsmith Muramasa.

"As the story goes," Kento continued, "Murasame gained its name from its ability to cut through the air with such speed and precision that it could split raindrops in half. Some say that the sword's edge was so sharp that even a single drop of rain falling upon it would be sliced in two. According to legend, Murasame possessed not only the ability to control rainfall but also the power to bring storms and tempests at the will of its wielder. It was said that those who dared to harness the sword's power could command the very forces of nature, unleashing torrents of rain and lightning upon their enemies."

"However," Kento cautioned, "with such great power came even greater risk. Murasame was said to be a double-edged sword - figuratively, at least; while it granted its wielder incredible power, it also exacted a heavy toll on their soul. Many who sought to wield the sword's power were consumed by its influence, falling victim to madness and bloodlust."

"Reality, of course, differs from folklore," Marcus interjected.

"Muramasa, who either crafted or reforged this blade, was a master swordsmith who lived during Japan's Sengoku period," Marcus continued, his tone reflective. "He was known for his exceptional skill and craftsmanship, but his blades earned a reputation for being both deadly...and cursed." he added.

"The legend goes that Muramasa's swords were forged with such precision and sharpness that they were said to thirst for blood," Marcus continued. "Once drawn, they would compel their wielder to continue fighting until either they or their enemies lay dead. This earned Muramasa a fearsome reputation and made his swords infamous and highly sought after."

"There's more to the story," Kento interjected, his voice carrying a sense of gravity. "In reality, Muramasa was not just a famous swordsmith, but also a mage; we don't know the type of power he had nor his purpose, but he created many cursed blades with very dangerous powers."

"The Outcasts have been tasked with retrieving these cursed blades over the centuries," Marcus added, his expression serious. "And one such blade is Murasame. Retrieving it was actually the very reason the five of us came to the human world this time."

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "After retrieving the sword, I caught wind of a mage cult abducting humans, and it led us to you. In a way, it seems that this sword is the reason our paths crossed," Marcus added, his gaze meeting Constantine's.

Constantine looked solemn, still gazing at the sword.

"It calls to me." he said.