They're a new translation but yeah.
Man weapon stories are so great. They're the Lost Odyssey dreams of Cavia games (except obviously way shorter and completely grimdark)
My favourites:
Phoenix Sword
This is an old story. A beautiful bird with brightly shining feathers lived silently and carefully in the depths of a forest.
One day, a child abandoned as a burden wandered into the depths of the forest. The bird took pity on the starved and sunken child, and pecked off one of its feathers to give to the child. The child brought it back and pleased his relatives, and he was able to live with his family again.
Hearing the story, people barged into the forest one after another, and told the beautiful bird of how poor, how unfortunate and how unrewarded they were. The beautiful bird took pity on them, and gave them one shining feather after another, and when it gave its last feather, the bird’s beautiful body was reduced to a sorry state. However the ugly bird did not have any regrets.
The ugly bird that lost its feathers was freezing in the cold, and the child from before appeared in front of it. He told it that he was searching a brightly shining and beautiful bird to repay his debts. The ugly bird was overjoyed, and told the child of its desire. “That was me. Please, would you not keep me warm in your chest?” But the child merely took one glance at the ugly bird and called it a liar, killing it with a huge sword and eating the burnt bird, afterwards he continued to search for the beautiful bird.
Nirvana Dagger
Ever since her birth, the girl has been told that she had a fiancée. She was brought up being taught how to be a proper wife, and at night, she offered prayers for her fiancée while facing the scenery outside her window. “Lord XX, I eagerly await the day of your arrival.”
Several other girls lived in the house that she lived in. They were all brought up being taught how to be proper wives, and at night, they offered prayers for their fiancées while facing the scenery outside their windows. “Lord XX, I eagerly await the day of your arrival.”
One day, the girls had an argument about whether or not the most brilliant of them will be the only one chosen by their fiancée. The girls stubbornly clung to their claim that they were best suited as a fiancée, and their caretaker spoke to them gently. “Don’t worry, you will all be Lord XX’s wives.” Hearing that, all the girls broke out into smiles.
On the day of the wedding, the girls were brought to a place with stone pavements that could be seen from their windows. One dagger was given to the girls. They were told that to meet their fiancée, they have to kill themselves right here. Hearing that, the girls fought for the dagger and committed suicide. Afterwards, a temple was built on where the girls died. The temple’s name was the name of their fiancée.
Faith
There was a famous singer living in a city in the far east. However, he was no longer able to sing in his later years. A monk appeared by his side out of nowhere and whisper to the singer: “you should pick up this sword.”
“If you kill a single person you’ll be able to sing one song. I you kill two people you will sing two songs. Go ahead and sing some unparalleled songs!” The singer picked up the song from the monk, hid in the night, and slashed at two bystanders. The next day, the singer can produce beautiful songs, and regained fame and fortune.
Afterward the singer sang a song for each person he killed, and sang two for every two he killed. He continually attained more fame and fortune. However, his desires could no longer be suppressed. If he killed his most important person, what kind of marvellous song would be produced?
And so the singer killed his wife and sang a song. He killed several of his children and sang multiple songs. He killed everyone in his family and he sang and sang and sang. He killed so many people on the streets that he cannot even sing fast enough. He killed and killed and killed and killed. In the end he didn’t sing anything as he killed himself. All that is left is a blood stained sword.
Moonrise
There is a legend of a blade that cooled a country wrapped in a hellish conflagration. Out of the misery of the endless flames came the people’s savior; a sword, surrounded by thousands and thousands of status made entirely out of ice.
A man searching for the world’s legendary weapons came across the sword. He bundled the sword tightly in a long roll of cloth, and took it in hand. But as he placed the sword in his pack and left, unbeknownst to him, the sword began to freeze the cloth; and, soon, froze him, too.
A priestess traveling the world came across the sword. She offered a prayer to the gods, and attempted to draw the blade. But frost quickly spread from her fingertips, up her arm, and all across her body. As she cursed the gods she had invoked, the sword froze her, too.
A slave woman, working in a cave, came across the sword. Hoping to escape her painful life forever, she gripped the handle of the sword and drew it out. But she did not freeze, nor was she able to thrust the blade into her breast. That night, the blade’s edge gleamed in the moonlight as she was beaten to death by her rapidly freezing master.
