‘Minamoto no Yoshitsune, you cannot draw the swords because you are yet to be strong enough to master us!’
Minamoto took out the dark swords of Impulsion, looking troubled. In his mind, their overlapping voices still echoed. The White Queen looked at him, smiled and said, “Yoshitsune, your successful acquisition of the swords proved your ability to draw them.”
Minamoto understood that he might not be strong enough to crush Lü Bu. Therefore, when he could successfully evade from Lü Bu’s control, he took out the trophies captured during his invasion of heaven — a long and a short dark sword of impulsion. Yet, he realized that he was not able to draw them out from their scabbards, and when he attempted to do so, he would hear that same repeated sentence.
War broke out as expected in Wonderland. Lü Bu and Minamoto encountered each other in countless battles which they were locked in stalemate every time. But Minamoto knew that Lü Bu never actually exerted himself, while he himself strenuously fought with all his effort. Minamoto understood that the pair of dark swords would be indispensable if he were to defeat Lü Bu. He spent days and nights trying to solve the swords’ enigma.
Minamoto could only put it aside for the moment after the White Queen consoled him. Suddenly—
‘Minamoto no Yoshitsune, do you truly want to pull us out?’
It was the first time that Minamoto had heard the dark swords say something different. Without hesitation, he responded.
‘Let go of your power...’
“Let go of my power?”
Two samurais, one tall and one short, stood in front of Minamoto, with a contorted, malicious monster faces on each of their arms. They raised their swords, preparing to strike Minamoto—
Minamoto woke up from fright. Yet, he saw that he had already pulled out the two swords; two waves of overwhelming willpower surged inside his head prompting a headache, the intensity of which was like of his skull splitting. The power overflowed from his body as if the dam holding his strength had failed catastrophically. As his last drop of power drained away, the dark swords abruptly deformed into a vast of black mist, enveloping Minamoto, forcing him to shut his eyes in pain. Soon, he felt the pain fade, and so he opened his eyes and observed his surroundings...
‘My name Imanotsurugi...’
‘And mine Usumidori...”
Minamoto was startled by their voices. At his side was a huge pair of arms with monster faces on them, holding an enormous katana. The eyeballs on the faces spun madly in their sockets. The ghostly pneuma of the arms was cold and chilling, however, Minamoto felt a sense of kinship with them as if they were a part of his body...
‘We shall serve you and you only, Minamoto no Yoshitsune.’