Artie/Memories

## Chapter 1

Mysterious powers dwell in the weapons I create.

They're magical weapons that never break, never rust...and guide their owners to victory.

Years ago, some people were afraid of my weapons, and they often chased me out of their shops.

Master was the only one nice enough to take care of me. He died from a disease long ago, though.

Now that I've taken over Master's shop, at the very least, I've got to protect it.

Not only that, but if people have strong weapons, there'll be no more deaths...and no more crying.

That's why I kept creating weapons. Ones that were strong. Ones that would keep their owners alive...like magic.

## Chapter 2

One day, there was talk in town about how our country's military had been decimated by an enemy witch squadron.

The witches formed shields that deflected everything away, preventing any of our attacks from getting through.

My weapons are augmented with magic power, but apparently they were useless against those shields.

That witch squadron's quickly invading the land, and before long, they'll be at our doorstep...

I've *got* to do something. I'm a witch *and* a blacksmith, so there *must* be something only I can do.

That's it—I'll try increasing the magic power I augmented my weapons with. Their usually amplified strength just won't cut it anymore.

I've got to use an even greater amount of magic power. It'll take time, but I *will* get it done.

Since then, I tenaciously focused magic power into my weapons. To fight against the witch squadron. To protect as many of the townsfolk as possible.

...And, to create a power that'll decimate the enemy.

## Chapter 3

After a great deal of trial and error, it was finally complete.

By pouring every last ounce of my magic power into it, I created a weapon that could break through those witches' shields—

A magic sword.

It had the might capable of annihilating 100 soldiers in a single swing.

It was a true symbol of power. Its might will crush the spirits of anyone who lays eyes on it, and wars will end in an instant.

Back then, I felt so proud of these hands. These hands that created a weapon that would protect everyone.

When the witch squadron finally came and attacked us, the army used my sword. Then...tragedy struck.

A single swing decimated the witch squadron. The battlefield was littered with what remained of the witches...and among them, a little girl...

What...What in the world did I...? This isn't the weapon I created. It's just a tool for murder.

At that moment, I finally realized...what it truly means to end a war, and what I did to achieve that.

...I took one look at my hands, and all I saw was filth.

## Chapter 4

I quit being a blacksmith.

My weapon *did* protect lives, but it also stole many more of them away. And, the sight of all those bodies just...

I was holding on to false beliefs. In the end, weapons are nothing more than tools for murder.

Days passed by, then I met her.

Richesse, the Merchant of Death.

She held her hand out to me and said she needed my power to protect the lives of many.

But, I brushed her hand aside and told her to stay away from me.

"I refuse...Many have died from a weapon I created...and in such a horrifying way...There's *nothing* someone like me can protect..."

But, Richesse grabbed my hands and said, "Would you still say that if I told you there are lives these hands have saved?"

## Chapter 5

My weapons saved lives?

No way...After all, I'm...

Richesse then took out an old sword. I recognized it. This sword was something I forged years ago.

It's a magic sword that will never break, and guide its owner to victory. When I forged this sword, the only thing I thought about was protecting lives.

"Thanks to this sword, everyone survived. Here's your proof."

Richesse then handed me a bundle of letters. They contained the words of gratitude of many people. Richesse says she's been searching all over for me to make sure I got them.

Ahh...that's right. I was making weapons to protect lives—not destroy them.

But, the threat of the witch squadron scared me into creating a weapon that steals lives away.

No more mistakes.

This time, I'll swing my hammer like how I did before, and create weapons that protect lives.

Magic weapons made only for keeping their owners alive.

## Chapter 6

"I'll be the one who decides who's worthy of wielding your weapons, so keep on making them—weapons that protect lives."

With those words, Richesse became my own personal merchant.

There are many people who need my weapons for protection. Richesse delivers my weapons to them.

Among them are people who need weapons for killing. But, Richesse hides me away from them, and always stays by my side protecting me.

She's even started calling me "partner".

It's just, I'm still uneasy about calling myself Richesse's partner. Not while my hands look as filthy as they are now, at least...

I've got to save a lot more people. When I do, though, can I finally call myself Richesse's partner?

But, just as I thought, my hands only bring about tragedies.

I heard a rumor. That sword which destroyed the witch squadron had turned into an evil sword, raging out of control and attacking anyone who approaches it.

## Chapter 7

I augmented that evil sword with my magic power over a long period of time. I'm sure that same magic power is what's raging out of control.

The only way to stop it is to destroy it. But, challenging that evil sword needs even more magic power than what dwells in it.

That's far beyond what I can conjure up...but I've *got* to do it. That's my responsibility as the sword's creator.

If doing so burns away all the life I have left, so be it.

Then, as my hand trembled, Richesse firmly placed hers on top of it.

"If that's what needs to be done, my power is yours to use, partner."

Richesse, why...?

As I stood there dumbfounded, she spoke to me with the same bright smile she had on the day we first me.

"We're partners. We share sins, pain—*everything*. So, don't you even think of carrying this burden alone."

In actuality, I knew I shouldn't involved Richesse. This sin is mine to bear. But, I didn't have it in me to brush her hand away.

Yes, that's right. I create, and Richesse delivers. That's who we are.

From this point on, I'll keep creating weapons that protect lives, using these hands that Richesse—that my partner believes in.