>>5723585>>5723587>>5723588>>5723603>>5723636>>5723696>Transfer his spirit into his sword.“Right–how about CALIBURN, then? Your spirit will rest with it until you’re ready to pass.” You settle on the flamberge for now; where better else for a warrior to rest than in his sword?
“CALIBURN, hm..?” The knight observes his reflection in the catch of the blade, where your lady’s eyes greet him back. He gently lays it to rest on the ground. “Certainly. The demon lord’s armor kind of gives me the creeps, but.. he’s an old friend. I’d be happy to be with him.”
“Very well. Just.. try to keep your spirit still. Don’t want to tear something by accident here..” You raise your dyadic wand, the powers of the dead at its tip. You never had a great handle on CADAVERINE MAGIC–as important your master’s work in the field was, she seldom tells you much about it–but you’ve just enough of a grasp on the basics to do this much, especially with the aid of an artefact’s power. You can use your wand as a sort of daisy chain, a means to afford spirits a path to cross from vessel to vessel: in this case, from your master to your wand to his sword.
You take a deep breath, shut your eyes, and whisper a quick prayer to any nearby higher power for success—and with the swish of your wand, you rend the knight’s spirit from your master’s body where it burns so hot it feels cold in your wand. You drag your wand back through the air like a knife through butter and channel his ghost to the blade on the ground. The sword leaps with the ghost's power, bounding up along the ground and crackling with spiritual energy, before clattering back to rest.
Your master’s body, near tips over with the loss of the ghost at the helm. You move to catch her in your arms.
“Urgh-..” Your lady groans in your arms, eyes gradually opening–slowly, rolling about in their sockets, occasionally hacking and spluttering out whatever foreign spirit’s still left in her. “..Oh, god. Why does my mouth taste like slime?”
[...]
“..I see. You butchered him as a chicken.” Your master kneads her forehead, still smacking her chops even after thoroughly washing the taste of slime gunk from her mouth with water. “Well–.. it should be fine.. I’ll have to send a letter to the king about the presence of a demon lord here for a more formal inquisition, but.. that zombie should be taken care of now. I suppose that merits a ‘good job.’ So.. ‘good job, Snuff.’ There.”
You beam. That’s an exceedingly rare thing to hear.
“Also, why is she naked.” Sigrid points at Molly, who stares back.
>You need to scrape some dungeon residue!>Sheathe the green knight sword, CALIBURN. >Perhaps this warrants a clothes beam.>[Write-In.] 