The panel chimed softly, the scrolling fragments of text finally slowing, settling into something readable.
đź”» [Results compiled]
đź”» [Muramasa entry found]
Jin leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, and read.
Muramasa was, by every account the system had managed to gather, an enigmatic figure. Little concrete survived about where he'd come from, what he'd looked like in his youth, or even the exact century his name first appeared in written record. What survived instead were the blades.
He'd become famous not simply for his skill with a sword, though the records agreed that skill alone would have earned him a legend of his own, but for what he forged. Swords capable of cutting down demons, real ones, the kind that apparently once walked the old world the way monsters walked this one now. Eight blades total, each one supposedly carrying some fragment of the man's own will pressed into the steel itself.
