The Sword Collector: Devil’s Justice

“Joan! I think I’ve found something you’ll like!” Ida called out to her sister. With her laptop in hand, the grey fox made her way out of her study, down the freshly cleaned hallway, and to her sister’s bedroom. Upon entering the bedroom, Ida had to readjust her black-framed glasses because she thought she had just teleported to a completely different house.

Although dimly lit due to the closed curtains, Ida could still see that Joan’s room was a mess. Littered across the floor were her sister’s used clothes and dirty shoes. On top of her desk, next to Joan’s laptop, were empty bottles of Summer Day cider—as well as scattered pens, pencils, books, and papers. Hugging against the digital alarm clock on her nightstand was a plate full of crumbs that had been sitting there since last week.

And amongst all, it was Joan herself, snoring away on her bed. Her face was deep into her pillow, her mouth was lightly spilling drool, and her body curled into a comfortable ball. She was sleeping in her stained white top, old white and pink checkered shorts, and yellow knee socks that were rolled down to her ankles. Her sleepwear was quite the contrast to Ida’s outfit, for she was wearing her blue buttoned-up shirt, a black skirt with small cyan polka dots, black leggings, and dark blue slip-ons.

The only thing in Joan’s bedroom that wasn’t a mess was her organised walls. Standing on shelves above Joan’s desk are her trophies and ribbons, which all range from first to fourth places. They are primarily for her swordsmanship over the years. However, there are one or two fourth-place ribbons for boxing, long jump, high jump, and athletics. On the wall above Joan’s bed is her sword collection, which hangs from wall mounts and is sheathed in scabbards. By the sheer number of them and the different types, Ida always thought she was looking at a wall of a sword exhibition in a museum every time she saw them. And Ida knows that’s not even half of Joan’s collection. The more special swords are either hidden and locked away or loaned out to museums across Everlends.

“Joan! I thought I told you to clean up your room two days ago!” Ida growled, kicking the leg of Joan’s bed and making it shake.

“AH! Yes officer! I do have a teddy bear license!” Joan shouted the last thing she said in her dream upon being startled out of her sleep. Once she realised she wasn’t dreaming anymore, she looked over to see her sister with her hands on her hips.

“Oh, hey E,” Joan smiled at her while her yellow eyes were still trying to open fully. “What brings you here at…” She then picked up her clock and squinted at it. “…Twelve in the morning? Damn girl, don’t you ever sleep?” Joan gave her a dirty look as she put the clock back.

“It’s twelve in the afternoon, stupid.” Ida corrected her with a glare that could kill. “Anyway, I have something that you might be interested in.” After Joan sat up in bed, Ida put the laptop on Joan’s lap to see what news she had brought for her.

“Mm, what is it?” Joan asked as she looked at the laptop. On the screen is a webpage of the Night Market and the products that people from all over Everlends are selling on it. Most of which were second-hand or junk, but those were not the ones that caught Joan’s attention. In the centre of the webpage is an image of a sketched sword that appears to be made out of bones. Joan’s eyes finally stopped squinting and went fully wide when she recognised the sword.

“Your newest addition,” Ida responded to Joan’s question with a proud grin. “Some ferret guy in Misty Village has been advertising the whereabouts of Devil’s Justice. I messaged him about it, and he said that he got it from his great-grandfather. His great-grandfather somehow got the sword and then lost it, but he knows the place where he lost it. I tried to get his Pay-Through so that I could buy the info for you, but he doesn’t have one. He says that he only accepts cash and can be found at the Misty Brew on most days.”

“Weird. Maybe he doesn’t trust Pay-Through?” Joan said as she looked up the location of Misty Village on the laptop.

“Judging from how he was messaging me, I think he doesn’t trust people,” Ida replied.

“Oooooo that’s cool! Misty Village is the only place where bog coffee grows.” Joan said as she researched a bit more.

“Bog coffee?” Ida’s face scrunches up at the thought of it.

“It’s a type of moss that’s naturally caffeinated. The villagers would dry the moss out, crush it into flakes, and sell them. From what I’ve read, they have an earthy taste. I’m going to buy one.” Joan then looks up at Ida while wagging her tail.

“Don’t let me stop you from buying some nasty weed coffee,” Ida said before putting her finger to her tongue. In return, Joan blows her a raspberry before getting herself back on track.

“There it is! The village is a day’s hike away, and they have a motel where I can stay! Thanks, Ida, I owe you!” After moving Ida’s laptop to the side, Joan jumped out of bed and zoomed all over her room.

“You owe me my cut of the money you earned. I don’t just do your homework for nothing, you know.” Ida said as she took a step to the side before being knocked over by her sister. Joan was too focused on her preparations even to notice her sister at the moment. While Joan was changing into fresh and proper clothes, she stuffed things into her weather-stained satchel. Ida couldn’t help but watch as her sister plucked the things she needed as if they were right in front of her.

“How the hell do you find anything in this room?” Ida said as she dodged a sock that was carelessly tossed over Joan’s shoulders.

“Organised chaos, sis, organised chaos,” Joan said as she slung her satchel over her shoulder and tied her hair up in a ponytail. Now dressed like a true adventurer in her brown jacket, yellow top, blue jeans, and leather boots, Joan is ready for adventure. Hanging from her belt in scabbards are her two swords: a short sword and a bastard sword, both with leaf-shaped steel blades that have a faint silver glow.

“Are you coming along?” Joan asked as she dashed to the kitchen to start packing food. “It would be fun like last time!”

“Oh hell no! You might have had fun, but I sure didn’t!” Ida gladly followed her sister out of her bedroom. “By the way, you need to make a wrist strap for your swords. You keep losing those things.”

“I do not!” Joan protested while stuffing nuts and chocolate pieces in a small plastic bag. “Monsters keep breaking them.” Memories of losing her favourite swords flooded back into Joan’s mind, making the fox frown.

“Am I missing anything?” Joan asked, mainly to herself, as she was patting her satchel and pockets.

“Probably this.” Ida then lifted Joan’s wallet, which she had left behind in her bedroom.

“Oh, right! Thanks, Ida.” Joan took the wallet and slid it down the back pocket of her jeans.

“I will call you if I haven’t heard from you in a day. Now go and get this bread!” Ida said as they hugged each other.

“You got it! Oh, and thank you for cleaning my room for me! Ok bye!” Joan gave Ida her farewell salute as quickly as she could before running out the door. Before Ida knew it, Joan was already making her way out of town and heading to Misty Village, ready for another adventure.

“No problem,” Ida replied without much thought. Just as she was about to walk back to her study, her brain finally processed what Joan said before she left. “Fuck! She did it again!” She growled as she realised why Joan was really in a rush.

It was a no-brainer to Joan how Misty Village got its name, for the place was surrounded by a constant mist that came straight down from Blindrock Mountain. Anything made from wood doesn’t last long in Misty Village due to the never-ending moisture in the air. So, to build structures, the villagers used the stones from the very mountain they lived next to, made them into bricks, and used them to create their buildings.

Just after Joan had booked a room at the motel, she went searching for the Misty Brew, which was easy to find since it was the only pub in the village. After stepping inside the pub and taking in the warm and rustic interior, Joan noticed the lack of patrons. It wasn’t due to bad business, but rather because of the early opening hours for those visiting the village. It was just after 1 p.m., and most workers in the village were still farming their bog coffee. Joan gave an internal sigh of relief. She hated crowds, huge ones. The loud conversations from people made it difficult for her to concentrate on her conversation. Not to mention that she always felt a bit claustrophobic whenever she was surrounded by many people in one room. Although she is used to being in large crowds (all thanks to her breathing exercises), she still avoids them if possible.

It didn’t take her long to find the ferret she was looking for. The middle-aged skinny thing had his head resting on the table. His fingers were still wrapped around a mug of half-drunk, warm beer. He was wearing a long, old leather coat, a dark green, buttoned-up shirt that was untucked, black trousers, and ragged black boots. Hanging from his belt is a longsword and a firearm. The longsword’s leather scabbard has holes in it, revealing the slightly rusty blade within. As for the gun, Joan thought that it was a type of 9mm pistol, but she didn’t know a whole lot about guns to make a proper judgment. She excitedly rubbed her hands together as she walked over to him. But not before stopping halfway, turning on her heels, and heading to the bar to order some things for herself.

“So, I heard some interesting things about your great-grandfather, Phil,” Joan said to the ferret after taking a seat at his table. In her left hand, she carries a mug of cold cider, and she swirls the straw around and around the brim.

The ragged brown ferret lifted his head and opened his eyes. He had hoped to see the ferret maid from his nap, but upon regaining consciousness, he saw the fox instead.

“It’s Phillip.” He mumbled while narrowing his eyes at Joan. Before he finished his sentence, he drank what was left of his beer to get rid of the dryness in his throat. “But yeah, what of it?”

“Well, he almost came back with something very valuable, right? I would love to hear it.” As she spoke, she was looking at his nose rather than his eyes. Making eye contact for too long made her feel uncomfortable. So, to not seem rude or disengaged, she focused on the person's nose instead, so that it appeared she was looking them in the eyes. Just as she finished asking her question, she slurped her drink through the straw.

The ferret raised his eyebrow at her, unsure of whether he should take her loud slurping as a sign of asserting dominance or her just being rude. Regardless, though, he will spill the beans. However, before speaking, he looks about his surroundings, making sure that nobody is eavesdropping. “Alright, but it’s a long story.”

“No problem, I like long stories, especially with a good meal. Speaking of which!” The fox’s tail wagged as the bartender placed a plate of soft tacos in front of her. “I’m Joan, by the way.” She then clapped her hands and rubbed them together before digging in.

After seeing that, Phil feels that he has a good idea of who he’s dealing with now. She wasn’t trying to be dominant or rude; she’s just an idiot, and he couldn’t possibly try to find a reason to take her seriously. He knows that she came here to find Devil’s Justice, just like the other adventurers before her, but she was being nonchalant about it. The information he’s selling is key to finding this lost sword, and yet she’s having lunch as if it were another Tuesday afternoon. However, after some thought, he realised that he didn’t actually care. He’s just here to make a quick and easy buck.

“Well, first of all, do you know the story behind Devil’s Justice?” Phil asked, resting his cheek in his hand.

“Sure I do!” Joan replied with her mouth full of tacos.

“A powerful necromancer, Telrox the Wicked, tried to take over hell with his apprentice, Breetlock. To do so, he needed a large army. So, he and his apprentice killed everyone in Fort Shield Breaker, Fort Long-Blade, and Fort Forever-life, which were the three largest forts in the world at the time. After killing the soldiers in each fort, they used their bodies to create their army of the undead. I believe in total, they had close to twelve thousand undead soldiers, which was the largest army of the undead in recorded history. Once his army was ready, they entered hell and failed miserably. Both Telrox and Breetlock were captured alive and were sent to the devil himself. The devil tortured Telrox by using his skeleton to make the sword that we now know as Devil’s Justice. He also turned his skin into leather and used it for the scabbard and strappings for the hilt. All the while, Telrox was still alive as well. Pretty brutal. Anyways, Breetlock somehow managed to escape, and that’s how we got the story. Breetlock believed that the sword holds some of Telrox’s power and that whoever wields the sword can control the undead. Oh, and fun fact, Breetlock gave up on being a necromancer and became a priest. I guess hell does that to a person.” It was just as Joan finished the story that she also completed her plate. She leaned back on her chair with a pleased stomach.

Throughout her info-dumping, the ferret was staring at her, waiting for her to finish. “Fucking nerd, I didn’t ask for a retelling.” Phillip thought to himself.

“Your turn.” Joan sat upright and began to slurp her drink again.

He rolled his eyes before beginning his tale. “Yeah. So, my great-grandfather was a thief who wanted to make a name for himself. He decided that he wanted to be the first person to steal from hell’s treasury. After doing some research, he found a way to hell through some forgotten catacombs. It was only after spending a few hours in the devil’s castle that he learned that hell doesn’t have a treasury. Go figures. Anyway, he didn’t want to go empty-handed, so he stole Devil’s Justice right from the devil’s belt. He ran out of hell but ended up getting lost in the catacombs. By the time he emerged, he was half-dead and had lost the sword. He didn’t want anyone else to find Devil’s Justice and take his glory, so he kept the secret of where the sword was to his grave.”

“So, how did you find out where it is then?” Joan asked, tilting her head to the side.

“He wrote it down in his diary, which I found hidden under the floorboards in my house,” Phillip replied, tapping his fingers on the table.

“I bet that’s a lucky find, but how come you never went to find the sword yourself? It’s worth a lot of money.” Joan asked, but now her head tilted to the other side of her shoulder.

“Because I want to live and I’m not suicidal,” he answered, squinting his eyes at her. “Besides, it would be easier and more profitable to sell the location instead. Speaking of which.” The ferret then held out his open palm towards Joan. “$100 and I will tell you where it is.”

“Bloody expensive,” Joan grumbled as she pulled out her wallet from her pocket. A bit of fishing later, she pulls out a crisp $100 bill and places it on his palm.

He hastily closes his hand up like a bear trap and stuffs it into his pocket. “Open any map app you have on your phone and give it to me; I will put in the coordinates.”

“Why can’t you just tell me the coordinates?” Joan asked, finally picking up on his discomposure and taking note of his paranoia, and all the while putting her wallet back in her pocket.

“Because I don’t want anyone to overhear and steal my business.” He looked at her as if it were a stupid question to ask. “Also, don’t read the coordinates out loud. In fact, don’t even look at them until you leave the pub.”

“Okie dokie.” Joan raises her eyebrow and hands him her phone. As he types away on the phone, he keeps looking over his shoulder, just in case somebody is behind him, something that Joan also takes note of. Once he feels alone, he looks over at Joan and notices her swords dangling from her belt.

“Shouldn’t you be carrying something a bit more powerful, like a gun?” He scoffed. “You will be facing creatures that can only be killed by silver bullets. Your swords will be useless.” He handed her phone back when he completed typing in the coordinates.

“Nah,” Joan said as she put her phone away. “Guns are good and all, but I find that a lot of monsters are more or less than bullet resistant, even if the bullets are silver. Speaking of silver, my swords have been silver plated, so I got that covered.”

“Ok, but what if you’re facing a person, especially one with a gun?” Regardless of how she answers the question, the ferret has already made up his mind that she’s a bigger idiot than he initially thought.

“I have my tricks,” Joan said, and with that, she got up from her seat and dusted the crumbs off her lap. “I'd better get going. Thanks for the info.”

“Thanks for the money,” he says, leaning back in his chair and placing both feet on the table. And with that, Joan went on her merry way. If she weren’t so excited, she would have noticed that Phillip had a big grin on his face.

“She won’t be needing this where she’s going.” A snicker escaped his lips as his tail dropped Joan’s wallet in his hand. It seems that thievery still runs in his family. “I think I have enough time for another drink before leaving,” Phillip said as his grin grew wider.