[ WP ] A sword , with great power , can be only be used for good with those who have greatly sinned . Tell a tale of a man who must continually use this sword .

`` Draw your sword.'' The veins were bulging on his forehead; his own blade shivered in his hands, a coiled silver snake, perfectly poised to strike. `` Draw your sword!'' 
 
 I looked at him carefully. The veins in his forehead. Those manic, fearful, and enraged eyes. The tear-streaked cheeks. For the last time, I committed those features to memory. 
 
 `` Draw your -!'' 
 
 A sword clattered to the ground. 
 
 The veins twitched. Writhing beneath the skins in their dance of death. His face twisted into a look of horrified resignation as he stared at the handle sticking out of his stomach. With 
 
 `` I did n't even get to see it, once.'' He chuckled, then - the tired chuckle of a man who had nothing left to prove. 
 
 `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 With a thud, he fell to the floor. The sword was back in its sheathe - as though it had never left. 
 
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 XueMo - Blood-Demon. That is the name of my blade. 
 
 Have you ever heard of the legend of its creation? 
 
 Xia - the oldest Empire in recorded history - was about to be overthrown by the virtuous leaders of Shang. In order to defy the rebellion, willing to preserve his powers even if it meant going against the Will of the Heavens - the evil emperor of Xia ordered that a sword be made. 
 
 XueMo. The Blood-Demon. 
 
 The sword that bathed in the blood of saints, and quite nearly caused the fall of the Shang dynasty. The sword that ultimately disappeared. 
 
 And now, nearly three thousand years later - the same sword lies in my hands. 
 
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 Will continue sometime later
