CHAPTER 30: CHAPTER NO.30 MURAMASA EVOLVES!

[Location: Dungeon, Basement No.5]

I blinked, staring at the two glowing spots in my hand. Boss drops... C... A... This was the real deal.

[Item: Poison-Fanged Vermis Fang]

[Rarity: C]

[Type: Weapon Material / Crafting Component]

[Description: A fang from the ruler of the swamp. Emits faint venomous aura. Can be used to craft weapons or sold for high value.]

...

[Item: Vermis Venom Sac]

[Rarity: A]

[Type: Alchemy / Consumable Material]

[Description: A sac filled with concentrated venom from the Poison-Fanged Vermis. Extremely potent. Can be used for poisons, traps, or alchemical concoctions. Handle with care.]

...

Tti-ring!

[Extraordinary Material Detected!]

Whooshing!

The notification barely finished echoing in my mind before a strange vibration rattled through my hand. Muramasa.

The blade trembled violently, humming with a raw, hungry resonance that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The polished steel flushed darker, as if drinking in the very shadows around it. A crimson aura began to crawl up the blade’s edge, coiling like serpents.

"...You greedy bastard," I muttered, tightening my grip.

Muramasa wasn’t just reacting—it was demanding. The moment the venom sac’s aura bled into the air, the sword behaved like a predator sensing prey.

Whoooosh!

The atmosphere around me thickened. The dungeon itself seemed to respond. The jungle-swamp silence shattered as vines rustled, hidden beasts skittered away, and stagnant waters rippled outward. Everything living in the area felt it—an aura of devouring malice leaking from the sword.

"Don’t tell me..."

[Item Bound: Muramasa Blade (Replica)]

[Condition Met: Predator Material Acquired]

[Initiating Evolution Sequence...]

The words blazed across my vision.

The sword roared. Not a literal sound, but a resonance inside my skull, like the scream of steel clashing endlessly against flesh and bone. My knees threatened to buckle under the sudden gravity pressing down.

Muramasa’s body split open with glowing fissures. Crimson light oozed from within the blade, not bright but oppressive—like liquidized hate solidifying into form. The fang in my palm disintegrated into powder, sucked into the blade like it was nothing more than kindling.

Then—

The venom sac floated, pulled by an unseen gravitational field. It twisted mid-air as black-green venom seeped from its seams, but instead of spilling, the ichor streamed directly into the sword. The steel hissed, steaming as though quenched in blood.

Ksssshhh!

I gritted my teeth. My palm burned even through the Armament Core. Muramasa was drinking me dry just by holding it. The lifesteal effect turned inverted—siphoning my vitality as fuel for its metamorphosis.

The system chimed:

[Warning! Bound Item Evolution in Progress. User HP being consumed as catalyst!]

My HP bar plummeted like a stone. 92%. 80%. 67%.

"Damn it, you’re going to bleed me to death for your lunch?!"

I wanted to drop it, but I couldn’t. The binding chains weren’t physical, but spiritual. Muramasa was shackled to my soul, and if it wanted to eat, I had no choice but to choke down the pain.

My vision blurred. Heat seared up my arm. For a moment, I swore the blade wasn’t in my hand anymore but embedded inside me, threading its edge through my bones, carving my veins into a new circuit of malice.

[HP Critical: 19%]

[Emergency Passive Activated: Sovereign Haki – Conqueror’s Will (Dormant Surge)]

BOOM!

A pulse of my will exploded outward, not intentionally, but as instinct. My Conqueror’s Will lashed against the sword’s devouring hunger like chains across a rabid beast.

The crimson glow of Muramasa dimmed slightly, stabilizing, though the oppressive aura continued to throb.

The system’s monotone voice cut through the storm:

[Evolution Complete.]

The weight in my hand changed. Muramasa stopped trembling. Slowly, the searing heat ebbed, leaving only a cold, venomous chill that clung to my arm like icewater running beneath the skin.

I opened my eyes.

Muramasa had transformed.

The blade, once steel-silver, was now a deep black edged with a faint green gleam, like poison smeared permanently along its curve. Vein-like patterns of crimson ran along its length, pulsing faintly as though the sword itself had veins. The hilt, once plain, now carried a serpent motif, the guard curling into fangs that dripped with venom.

The swamp air around me hissed when the blade caught the light—like even the dungeon rejected its presence.

A new notification appeared.

[Item: Muramasa – Venomfang Replica]

– Rank: ??? (Bound)

– Effect: Increases physical damage output by 45%.

– Lifesteal: Converts 10% of inflicted damage into HP.

– Malice: The longer combat continues, the sharper the blade becomes (+3% damage per minute of continuous battle).

– Venomfang: Attacks carry a stacking venom effect (applies poison that weakens enemy vitality and regeneration).

– Bound to User. Cannot be dropped, stolen, or sold.

– Limitation: Being a replica, its growth potential is capped unless ???.

HOOORAY SHIT!

The only sound was my own ragged breathing, the faint drip of venom sliding down Muramasa’s newly evolved edge, and the steady thrum of my heartbeat still racing from being siphoned nearly to death.

I staggered back, lowering the blade, but the aura it released did not lessen—it expanded. A choking pressure rolled out from Muramasa like concentric ripples of malice, making the stagnant swamp water bubble faintly as though boiling. The nearby flora, thick with damp rot and predatory hunger, recoiled. Vines shriveled back against the walls, moss turned black, and even the hidden predators that had been watching me from the underbrush scattered with panicked rustles.

Muramasa’s rebirth hadn’t just been an upgrade—it was an announcement.

The dungeon itself seemed to shudder, like its heartbeat had skipped. My Observation Grid picked up erratic pulses of movement further ahead—wolves, insects, serpents—creatures breaking formation and fleeing deeper into the labyrinth. Not because of me. Because of the thing in my hand.

I raised the weapon and studied it closely. The blade no longer looked like forged steel. It resembled something alive, an organ shaped into a weapon. The faint, pulsating veins of crimson weren’t decoration; they throbbed in rhythm with my pulse, tethered directly to me through the binding contract. When I shifted my grip, the veins pulsed faster, like the sword was eager—hungry—for the next kill.

I swallowed. My throat was dry.

"Great. I’ve officially become the caretaker of a demon sword that thinks it’s a starving snake."

But even sarcasm couldn’t smother the truth: this thing was power. Real, terrifying power. Its aura alone dwarfed what the Replica Muramasa had been. The damage boost was higher, the lifesteal doubled, and now the venom effect—stacking poison that could shred an enemy’s regeneration. Combined with Malice, the blade wasn’t just built for short bursts; it was a long-haul executioner.

Still, the cost had almost been my life. If Conqueror’s Will hadn’t flared up in that instant, I might’ve bled out on the dungeon floor before the evolution finished. My HP bar had only just begun crawling back from the critical red, the faint trickle of lifesteal working off residual dungeon pests I’d unconsciously killed with the pulse of will.

The system’s window flickered again.

[Trait Unlock: Blade Resonance]

[Description: Due to synchronisation between the user’s Conqueror’s Will and the bound weapon Muramasa, resonance effects may trigger during extended combat. Effects vary depending on user state, enemy strength, and battlefield conditions.]

[Warning: Resonance may lead to unstable results.]

...

"Unstable results? Yeah, because nothing screams safe like swinging around a venomous murder-snake sword that wants to eat me alive."

My laugh came out ragged, half a cough. The blade pulsed in my hand, like it thought my sarcasm was foreplay.

’Alright then, let’s tally the results: Before this frickin’ demon blade went and evolved, its physical damage output was 35% if I’m not mistaken. Now it’s 45%. Lifesteal went from 5% to 10%. Malice shot up to +3% per minute instead of just one. And then—because apparently this thing thought I wasn’t already cursed enough—it gained Venomfang, stacking poison that’ll rot enemies from the inside out. All in all? Yeah. That’s one hell of a payday.

But staring at the writhing veins running along the blade’s length, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just signed a blood pact with something that didn’t ask nicely.

The air still hadn’t normalised. Muramasa’s presence radiated out like wildfire, oppressive, suffocating. It wasn’t just a weapon anymore—it was a declaration.

It was then, a new message popped up.

[With the death of the Boss, the interior of the dungeon will revert back to its original state.]

Suddenly, my sight blurred for a bit, and they were restored back to normal, along with a slight bit of dizziness assaulting my senses. When I took a look around, I found myself inside a normal basement with brooms and all of that.

The lights overhead shone brightly, and the black liquid filling the tunnel, which was an old hearth now, was all gone, too.

"...So I’m back?"

The world steadied, like someone had flipped a switch. One second I was knee-deep in poison swamp hell, every inch of me drenched in blood, venom, and the weight of Muramasa’s hunger. The next, I was staring at... broomsticks. Dusty shelves. A cracked concrete wall with water stains. The faint hum of an old bulb overhead.

My legs almost gave out.

"...Are you shitting me?"

The dungeon was gone. No swamp, no wolves, no choking miasma trying to crawl into my lungs. Just a broom closet pretending it wasn’t a gateway to a murder dimension.

My hand tightened on Muramasa. The blade—Venomfang Replica now—was still pulsing in my grip, veins glowing faintly under the light. Its aura didn’t vanish with the dungeon; it lingered, like a poisonous aftertaste. I could feel it, even here, breathing with me.

The normality of the basement only made it worse.

For a moment, I just stood there, breathing hard, watching a droplet of venom slide off the black-green edge and hiss when it hit the concrete floor. The ordinary room rejected the sword’s presence, like it didn’t belong in this reality.

A system ping cut through my daze.

[Dungeon Clear Bonus Granted.]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Current Level: 20]

’20, he says~’

Anyway, I’m hungry, donno how much time has passed. Hope, Grayfia didn’t come back to check.

Yeah, that would whole other can of worms.

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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