After watching those paintings on his way and being enlightened in the many different and disturbing ways people could die, he reached a large hall.

On the dome of the hall, a painting of cherubu could be seen. It was the first painting about something other than death. This made it stand out even more. Seemingly showing how important this hall was.

But something else grabbed his attention. In the center of the hall, a throne could be seen and next to that throne, stood a woman.

She was an extremely beautiful woman. She had long purple hair and red eyes. The purple haired woman looked at him before saying with a faint voice,

“Welcome, my master.”

Upon seeing that woman, standing next to the throne, Azrael couldn’t help but become dazed for a short while.

Her clothes were simply too daring, and while they left little to the imagination, they were also very stylish and somehow holy.

She was dressed in a short sleeveless black corset dress with a zipper on the front, revealing her alluring cleavage. This dress resembled a bridal dress but stopping short at her butt a little like a one-piece swimsuit.

Her hands covered in a pair of black gloves, while her arms were buried under lavish puffy sleeves with fluttering long strips of light floating around her arms.

As for her legs? Azrael’s eyes trailed on those long and beautiful legs. Those fair legs were also encased in black, ivory stocking long enough to reach until the middle of her milky-white thighs. The contrasts between her white thighs and her black stocks gave such an immoral feeling.

Finally, a long black veil adorned her long and beautiful purple hair.

Azrael was breathless. He had seen many beautiful women in his short life, but it was the first time that he felt his heart beating so relentlessly.

She wasn’t just beautiful. For him, what stood out the most, other than her attire that was particularly eye-catching, was her aura. It was neither cold nor warm. Nor arrogance or pride. It was an aura of pure indifference. As if everything was beneath her notice. As if in her eyes, every being were equal.

The woman, seeing his dazed expression asked again,

“Master?”

"... You aren't a loli…"

He blurted out before understanding what he said.

The woman tilted her head in wonder,

"A loli? What… Is a loli?"

This brought him back from his dazed state. Inwardly he couldn’t but scold himself. Still, his face revealed nothing of his earlier embarrassment as he said,

“*Cough* *Cough* Nevermind… I do not know whether or not I am your master. But your body is currently in my possession and was given to me by my father.”

He simply ignored the question about the loli and answered the one about being her master.

“I see.”

The woman answered curtly, disinterest clearly reflecting in her eyes. This short answer made the atmosphere fall in a strange silence.

Azrael was used to silence. As such, he did nothing to dispel it. Observing this hall was truly interesting. He feels as if his vision was blurry as if there was something else he was supposed to see but couldn’t. He couldn’t explain this feeling, but it was truly frustrating.

“Master.”

The proximity of the voice brought him out from his reverie. When he faced the source, he was surprised to see that the previously far woman was now only one step away from him.

“Who are you exactly? What is this place? What about that battlefield?”

The woman looked at him deeply before answering,

“This place and the previous one were created from a connection of our soul. As for who I am..”

She stretched a finger toward him. The moment she touched his forehead, he suddenly felt like a gush of information entered his brain. She wasn’t talking, but he felt like she was telling him all her secrets.

-----

{Truly, I robbed many lives. Neither the race nor the genders mattered. Even gods fell under my blades.

I've confronted many existences of a countless number, slaughtering all those near me. In the end, this body was wet with the blood of many victims.

My only wish is to kill,

My only use is to kill

Fight. Fight. Fight. Kill, kill, kill kill kill.

Right now, I am something that should not exist. An amalgamation of pain, hatred and resentment. Sure enough, I can no longer remember exactly how much time has passed since. My memories are nothing more than the battlefield all my incarnations battled on.

I want you to kill. For I am a weapon of death.

Do not brandish me, if you do not have the resolve to kill.

I do not remember all the abilities I can bestow you, perhaps I have no more than those I know. You’ll have to

When you hold me, you’ll be filled with prudence, for I will show you the future. I will allow you to make wise choices.

When you hold me, you must be filled with justice. But what is justice? Justice is a subjective feeling and my justice is death. Do not brandish me if you do not have the resolve to kill. The more powerful your desire to kill, the stronger you’ll become.

When you hold me, you will be filled with fortitude. Your stamina and defense will be greatly enhanced, making it so you can battle far longer and would be harder to wound. You'll be immune to all physical negative effects such as curse and poison.

When you hold me, you will become filled with temperance. Your mind will never tire as long as you are battling with me in your hand and you'll be immune to all mental negative effects.

My blade is destined to bring pain as it will leave ghastly wounds on your enemies, making them unable to heal for a short time.

My blade is destined to bring reality as it will destroy all magic that stands in your way. All barriers might as well be non-existent in your path.

Your blade is destined to bring death as it will shave off a part of the lifespan of anyone wounded by it.}

----

The vision faded and he was now back. It feels as if an innumerable number of years went pass in just a few seconds.

The woman kneeled in front of him, and lowered her head.

As he watched the kneeling woman in front of him, he couldn’t help but be a little dazed, now he understood a little more the present situation.

A weapon of death and virtues. That was why the cherub could be found here. Since they were the representative of the virtues. Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance. Those four virtues were the four cardinal virtues.

This weapon didn’t seem to come with particularly powerful active abilities, but those 6 passives were already a game-breaker if used well. This weapon wasn’t any weaker than [EXCALIBUR]. In terms of pure boost on the power of the user, it was likely stronger. There’s no way this weapon was one from a known myth. He might not be an expert, but such a weapon should have been known. The question now was,

‘Just how was my father able to create this?’

"What is your name?"

"I do not have a name."

Her voice was faint and indifferent. He understood that she truly didn't care about such things. But, well he couldn't possibly call her "Hey" or "You" every time.

"I see…"

He wasn't really good with name. He scratched his head as he tried to think about one. Finally, remembering her deep red eyes, he traced the corner of hi own eye and said,

"I have decided. Your name will be…"