Forsaken By The Gods, I Made A Contract With the Demon King

The dual kusarigama lay before me on the training ground's stone floor, its twin sickles gleaming in the afternoon light. Each blade curved wickedly, connected by a length of sturdy chain that seemed to mock my inexperience. Discover exclusive tales on mvl

I'd chosen this secluded corner of the training grounds deliberately - far from curious eyes and potential casualties.

"Right," I muttered, picking up the weapons. "Let's figure this out."

The training manual I'd downloaded and skimmed from the web, suggested starting with basic stances and single-blade techniques.

Master one sickle before attempting to coordinate both.

Sound advice, probably.

But as I held both handles, feeling their weight, I knew I'd ignore that completely.

The first challenge was simply finding a comfortable grip.

Hold the sickles too tight, and the chain's movement would be restricted. Too loose, and I risked losing control entirely. I settled on a medium grip, thumbs aligned with the handles for better control.

Starting position, feet shoulder-width apart, sickles held at waist level, chain forming a gentle arc between them.

Simple enough.

Then, I took a deep breath and attempted my first move - a basic spin with the right sickle while keeping the left stable.

The chain immediately betrayed me.

Instead of flowing smoothly through the air, it wrapped around my torso like an angry snake. I spent the next few minutes fighting my way free, already questioning my life choices.

"Okay, let's try that again."

Second attempt, I put more force into the spin.

The chain responded better, creating a satisfying whoosh through the air - right before the momentum carried the sickle straight toward my face.

Only a desperate backward lean saved me from an embarrassing injury.

"This is harder than I thought!"

Third attempt, less force, more control. The chain tangled around my legs this time, nearly sending me sprawling.

I caught myself against a training dummy, dignity thoroughly bruised.

"There has to be a trick to this," I growled, untangling myself yet again.

I spent the next hour just experimenting with the chain's behavior. Every movement of either sickle affected the entire weapon.

The chain wasn't just a connection between the blades - it was an integral part of each technique, carrying momentum and energy in ways I needed to understand.

Gradually, patterns emerged.

The chain responded best to circular motions. Sharp changes in direction made it unpredictable, but smooth transitions allowed for better control. Like essence itself, it needed to flow naturally.

I started with simple exercises.

Holding the left sickle steady, I made slow circles with the right, watching how the chain moved. Small circles at first, then gradually larger as my confidence grew. \\

The rhythmic movement became almost meditative.

When that felt comfortable, I switched hands, repeating the process with the left sickle.

My left arm was noticeably weaker, the movements less precise.

Another thing to work on.

The real challenge came when I tried coordinating both sickles. My first attempt at a simultaneous spin ended in chaos - the chain knotted itself somehow, leaving both blades dangling uselessly while I fought to untangle them.

But then I noticed something interesting.

During one of my attempts, I'd unconsciously channeled a bit of essence into the weapons. The metal had responded, humming faintly with power.

I tried it again, deliberately this time.

A thin stream of essence flowed through my arms into the handles, then along the chain connecting them. The effect was immediate - the weapons felt more alive, more responsive to my intentions.

With essence flowing, I attempted another basic form.

The right sickle spinning vertically, the left horizontally, creating a sphere of moving chain between them.

To my surprise, it worked.

Not perfectly - the sphere wobbled and occasionally collapsed - but it was progress.

Encouraged, I moved on to more complex patterns.

Figure eights with alternating sickles. Crossing patterns where the chain wrapped around itself before unwinding.

Each success was small, but significant.

The failures were spectacular.

More than once, I ended up wrapped in chains like a mummy. The training dummies suffered too, acquiring new cuts and dents as my control slipped. But each mistake taught me something new about the weapon's behavior.

I discovered that the dual kusarigama could be used defensively as well as offensively. By keeping both sickles moving in coordinated patterns, the chain created a protective barrier. Not as solid as a shield, but potentially useful for deflecting attacks.

Sweat soaked my shirt as I worked through basic combinations. Strike with the right sickle, use the momentum to power a sweep with the left. Let the chain wrap around a target before pulling with both blades.

Each movement had to flow into the next, like links in a chain.

The weapon demanded constant awareness. Any lapse in concentration could turn either blade against its wielder. The chain followed the laws of physics ruthlessly, punishing every mistake with tangling metal and stinging impacts.

But when it worked - when both sickles moved in harmony, the chain singing through the air between them - it was beautiful.

Deadly, yes, but beautiful.

I was attempting another complex form, both sickles spinning in parallel while I worked up the courage to attempt a crossing strike when a familiar voice broke my concentration.

"Well, this looks like quality entertainment!"

The chain, naturally, chose that moment to remind me who was really in charge.

The sound of Toby's voice shattered my concentration. The carefully maintained rhythm faltered, and the chain reacted with predictable vengeance. One sickle wrapped around my arm while the other spun wildly, forcing me to dodge my own weapon.

"Oh man," Toby's laughter echoed across the training area. "Please tell me someone recorded that. You looked like a cat fighting with yarn!"

I finally managed to untangle myself, my face burning. "How long have you been watching?"

"Long enough to seriously question your life choices," he grinned, hopping down from his perch on the fence.

"Though I have to admit, there were a few moments where you almost looked like you knew what you were doing."

"Thanks," I said dryly, gathering the chain.

"Your confidence in me is overwhelming."

Toby walked closer, examining the weapon with genuine curiosity. "Two sickles though? Really? Most people can barely handle one end of a kusarigama, but you just had to go for double trouble."

I resumed my practice, starting with the basic spinning forms I'd been working on before his arrival. The essence-infused metal hummed as I moved, both sickles creating parallel arcs through the air.

"It's about versatility," I explained, transitioning into a figure-eight pattern. "Two blades means more options for attack and defense. Plus..." The chain tangled slightly, and I had to pause to correct it. "Plus, most opponents won't expect it."

"They won't expect you to tie yourself up in knots?" Toby smirked, but his eyes followed the weapon's movement with interest.

"Though I guess if you actually master it..."

He trailed off as I successfully executed a crossing strike, both sickles weaving past each other while the chain formed a complex pattern between them. It wasn't perfect - the follow-through was still awkward - but it showed potential.

"See? Getting better," I said, perhaps a bit smugly.

"Better at not hitting yourself, you mean." Toby picked up a training sword from the rack. "Want to try it against a moving target?"

I hesitated. "You sure? I'm still learning the basics."

"Exactly why you need a practice partner." He took up a ready stance. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

"Just make sure to safeguard your head," I agreed, settling into my stance. "And no complaints if you get tangled up."

What followed was equal parts training and comedy. Toby would attack with basic sword patterns, while I attempted to either block with the chain or counter with the sickles. More often than not, I ended up entangled in my own weapon while Toby struggled to contain his laughter.

But there were moments - brief flashes where everything clicked.

The chain would flow perfectly, redirecting Toby's blade while one sickle swept in for a counter. Or both blades would move in harmony, creating patterns that even Toby admitted looked "almost impressive."

"You know," he said during a break, "most people would have given up after the first fifty times of getting wrapped up like a festival present."

I was unwinding the chain from yet another tangle and didn't bother to answer.

He gestured at the weapon. "You must really enjoy suffering. Are you a masochist or something?"

Again, I didn't bother to answer him.

We continued practicing until the sun began to set, Toby alternating between actual advice and merciless teasing. Despite the countless tangles and mistakes, I could feel progress. Each failure taught me something new, and each success built on the last.

The dual kusarigama was proving to be exactly what I'd hoped - a challenge worthy of my new path at the academy.

Now I just had to master it before Intructor's training killed me.

"Same time tomorrow?" Toby asked as we packed up. "I mean, assuming you survive Professor Vale's morning torture session."

"If I don't show up, check the training grounds for my corpse."

His laughter followed me as I headed back to my room, the twin sickles now carefully secured at my sides.

The Kusarigama was definitely not easy to handle and I was nowhere near proficient enough to use it in actual battle but with training and some time, I would surely get better!

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