"The Sword That Kills, The Sword That Gives Life"

A double-edged sword is a dangerous weapon. On the surface, the danger is obvious. A double-edged sword can kill not only the enemy, but its wielder as well. But, what if the wielder and the enemy are one and the same? What if the warrior's worst enemy is not on the outside but rather within?

A warrior's worst enemy is, in effect, himself. It is himself he must defeat on a daily basis: his undisciplined nature, his rebellious temper, his dishonorable qualities, his lusts, his own violence. So, he has been granted a different kind of double-edged sword: the sword that kills, the sword that gives life. With it he can kill, though not without tremendous pain, that which plagues him, that which haunts him, that which insists on claiming him as its slave. The sword that kills can kill his darkness, eradicate his terrible fears, destroy his inner demons.

But the sword that kills is not enough. Otherwise we have nothing but a dead warrior, spent and decrepit, useless to any but vultures. So the sword that kills becomes the sword that gives life, investing the warrior with new strength, a newfound vigor. Investing the warrior with integrity, and showing him the way to true enlightenment. This life-giving sword (whatever name it may be given) becomes the warrior's trusted tool and his most powerful ally. It teaches him to die to his rampant darkness and embrace a new light.

Sadly, many fail to see beyond the sword that kills. They use it not to put an end to their soul's darkness, but to feed it, a-la-SoulEdge, and turn it against other, weaker fighters whom they perceive as enemies. They never find the sword that gives life, for they shun its light, choosing instead to envelop it in their despicable darkness, corrupting its true nature. They spurn a Kenshin-like redemption to continue in their Battousai conquests, not knowing that they have become nothing more than shadows.