Chapter 0109

Tempest stared at the inmates of the jail the mages called a Weapon Pavilion and thought of a time when she was imprisoned.

Unloved.

Unwanted.

Undesired.

Anger, hatred, pain, mistrust, misunderstanding, confusion and helplessness. Her mother always looked at her with a myriad of emotions. She can be loving at one time, hateful the next. She would lash out, then become the sweetest woman in the world. She would beg and plead for her forgiveness then beat her until she was too broken to run.

Then one day, her mother took her to a hospital and left her there. She’d wash her hands of the freak she gave birth to.

It wasn’t her fault.

She was just a child who born a bit differently.

She tried to be good.

She tried to fit in.

She tried everything she could to please her mother.

After the incident, she went back to take a look. Her mother was still the same. The only difference was the victim. It was her normal brother instead of her who was beaten.

She’d left the dysfunctional place she called a home to avenge her true family. Then she tried to live like a normal person when she was beyond normal.

The weapon spirits remind Tempest of the cage called childhood, where she was used as the scapegoat of the family. Everything wrong in their lives was her fault because she was different. She’d left the cage.

Every now and then she’d be reminded of it.

This time, she’d take them with her.

“I’ll take you with me, but I make no promise.” She’d take them out, release them back into the world, but where they end up is their own fate.

“A chance is all we asked.”

Tempest grabbed a weapon and tossed them into her space ring, one after another until she came to the last one, the ugly weapon spirit who attacked her.

“Sorry for attacking you.”

“Oh you don’t have to be sorry.” Tempest said airly to lighten the gloom in the room. “I’ll make sure you end up in the hand of the worst cultivator I can find.”

“Oh magnanimous mage, holding a grudge against little me is not worth your time.”

“Too late.” Tempest smirked and tossed the ugly weapon into her space bag.

Tempest will do what she says. She’d give the ugly weapon to the worse cultivator she can find, and she already has the person in mind, a certain silver hair opaque eye cultivator who likes to mess with other people’s fate.

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Tempest wandered around the vault, looking for a weapon without a weapon spirit for her to use.

Nothing suits her fancy.

They were all too heavy, too crude or too wrong for Tempest.

Tempest had forgotten Cardis lecture about looking for a weapon to suit her instead of her perceived notion of a strong weapon.

Greatswords and broadswords don’t suit you.

“I want to the world to know I am strong. A big-ass sword sends the right message.”

Your body type isn’t built for big, heavy weapons. Sword or daggers fits you better.

“What am I supposed to do with a dagger, cut vegetables?”

Sword then.

“A big sword. I wanna do an Omnislash and look cool as Cloud did when he confronted Sephiroth. Final Fantasy VII was so cool. I remember I got the final form of Cloud’s limit break and it the cut scene he used the very same attack to confront Sephiroth. Then Final Fantasy Advent Children came out. I was like ‘yeah that’s Cloud right there’. I can tell by the sword. In the final fight, he used the famous Buster Sword to fight Sephiroth. The animation and CGI were amazing.”

Tempest continued to prattle on about the awesomeness of Final Fantasy VII, how good the story line was, how she cried when Aeris died and how she fights Sephiroth over and over without getting tired of the killing the guy.

Ventus didn’t interrupt her.

The game and the characters of the game were special to Tempest.

Little entertainment was provided in the psychiatric ward where Athena was dropped off. Most of the leisure activities teenagers enjoyed during this time were denied her. One of the staff took pity on their temporary charge. She brought her old Playstation gaming console for the girls to enjoy. Athena and her sisters could all play the game at once, so they joined hands to play the game. When one was busy, another took her place and progress through the game. It was an enjoyable pastime for them. They were able to complete the game within one month of intense playing. There was an impromptu party the girls threw for their win.

Suddenly a ray of light caught Tempest eye.

Much to Tempest dissatisfaction, it was a sword.

Tempest instinctively knew this was her sword. She didn’t have to like it.

The sword was a double edged short sword with a hilt and a guard that wouldn’t be out of place during Medieval Europe. There were no frills, gemstones or ornate carving attached to the hilt. It was a simple plain silver color hilt. The blade of the sword gleam with a brilliance aura tinged with a touch of frost and cool breeze that robbed the warmth of anyone stupid enough to touch it.

Tempest grabbed the sword with one hand. Unlike her previous attempt with Cardis broadsword, Tempest easily picked up the sword with exerting much effort. It felt like Tempest was holding a heavy cloud, cool yet unsubstantially. The short sword reacted to the water and wind part of Tempest, settling right into her grip like it was made for the future her.

That’s right, the future her.

Right now, even though Tempest called it a short sword, it was still too long for her. The sword was about 45 cm long or about 18 inches. It is a decent length for a full-grown adult. Tempest is only 110 cm tall or 43 inches. Tempest can say the short sword is half her size without exaggerating too much.

The grip of the sword is a bit better. Tempest can hold the sword with one hand. When parrying or blocking an incoming attack with a sword, Tempest knew she was going to look like one of the newbie swordsmen who have their sword knocked out of their hands.

Tempest swung the sword a couple of times in a series of arc. She tried to copy Cardis sword technique he showed her before. Unfortunately, Tempest might be a swordswoman in the making, and she isn’t a swordswoman now. Her attacks and movement were clunky at best.

“Bearable.” Tempest hmphed as she tossed the sword into her space ring. It might not be the mighty weapon of her dream, but it can be her current weapon.

Somewhat resolving her weapon choice dilemma, Tempest began to skip around the vault in an elated manner. She grabbed swords here and there and tossed them into her space ring.

Even though she looted many weapons with weapon spirits, her current shopping spree is different. The weapon she’s taking with her now is going to be sold for cash or melted down for scrap metal. Selling a weapon with a weapon spirit might cross the bottom line of the guild, but it is a different story selling weapons without a weapon spirit.

When she let her guard downs and grabbed another sword, she was sent flying.

“What the hell is it this time?" roared the little mighty cultivator.