The Black Swordsman

The all-powerful swordsman of the world of Aincrad was a sight to behold. The flowing Cloak of Darkness complemented his raven-black hair; those piercing eyes which read every movement of his opponents even before they moved, were of the same shade - black. He was famously known as the ‘Black Swordsman’, for even his sword, named the Elucidator, was black.

He evoked fear in the fiercest of foes; no one had ever see that calm and reserved face lose its cool. With the woman he loved, and the Elucidator by his side, the Black Swordsman was feared and respected all across Aincrad as an entity rivalling heavenly powers. His swordplay was so intense and enchanting that his enemies found themselves in awe at his skills. He seemed to erect a glittering wall of black metal with his swinging sword, through which no one could penetrate.

His wisdom and knowledge about Aincrad was second to none; he practically knew everything there was to know about. Yet his immense power and immeasurable knowledge didn’t turn him into a proud or haughty person; on the other hand, he was generous to a fault. The Black Swordsman was an enigma; he was aware of his powers, but felt distressed about it. He feared the collateral damage that his devastating sword skills caused. He acted only in self-defence or when his significant other found herself in danger.

As time passed, the guilt gnawing at his mind grew to such an extent that he started becoming reclusive, depending only on forest food and living his days off in a ramshackle cottage deep in the woods.

Every world has its Ragnarok, and Aincrad was no exception. The Creator of Aincrad descended from the heavens. He had decided that the current world had descended into corruption, debauchery and anarchy; and that life on Aincrad must come to an end.

But the Black Swordsman could not allow that to happen. Aincrad was the world he loved and fought for all his life. For the sake of humanity on Aincrad, the Black Swordsman emerged from his reclusive state and took on a God, not a task for a mortal. But the Black Swordsman was no ordinary mortal. The cataclysmic battle raged on for months, for neither side was willing to bend its knee in capitulation. The clash of pride with heavenly power was a fearsome sight; craters and mountains were destroyed in an instant by a single slash of the Elucidator.

Finally, as a moment of breakthrough, Asuna, his love, sacrificed herself by falling in front of the Swordsman when he was vulnerable to the Creator’s attack. The black skies rumbled with thunder and warning strikes of lightning emanated by the power humming from the Elucidator. The Black Swordsman’s facade was finally broken; his angst was beyond consolation. The Creator sensed the heartbreak of the almighty warrior and plunged his trident straight into the Swordsman’s heart. And he didn’t defend, for he had lost his reason to go on living. He received the thrust straight to his chest. It was a heartbreaking sight; the god-like mortal wielding demonic powers, reduced to a helpless man who lost the love of his life. Blood dripped from the ends of the trident, which was lodged inside the ribcage of the Swordsman, presenting a macabre sight.

But his soul refused to accept harsh reality. Bearing the pain caused by the trident in his chest, he yelled like a wounded lion and jabbed back at the Creator. The Swordsman expected him to dodge, but the Creator was smiling. He received the sword thrust to his chest.

“Guess you earned the life on Aincrad for a few more millennia.”, the Creator said, the ends of his mouth crinkling to form a slight smile. And he disappeared into the night sky as golden sparkles.

Finally, the legendary Swordsman who defeated a God; laid down his famed weapon and rested his tired body, waiting for Death to envelop him in its sleepy state. He finally felt free of his guilt as he joined his woman in the next world.