Milk Muramasa App #2

Key: Sanguine415
Character: Milk
Skill(or transformation): Weapon soul; shooting for Muramasa as I've been informed that, in alignment with my original app, it is the last sword remaining. To reap souls for the dragon king
How well do you know the source material?(obviously not relevant if it's a transformation): If we're talking the historical Muramasas, those were considered cursed, blood lust laden blades of death as propaganda with the anti-Tokugawa movement. It also has to draw blood in legend before being returned to its sheathe; a fitting quality for a grim reaper.
Reasoning:
Life as a navalskeleton was quieter than Milk would have expected; he spent most of his days vibing before Treble's cart and contemplating upon his nature of unlife. Watching young love blossom and passions bloom, the skeleton felt alienated from a world that had moved on without him. He could not share a heated dog and make merry, not enjoy the spring bloom's breeze upon his face. No, Milk felt nothing; he merely was. His extraplanar senses allowed him to see and here, but his animated frame left the sensation hollow, lifeless.

Dead.

Seeking to find meaning in his own growth as a soldier, Milk faced down Deidamia only to be brutalized and tossed aside like trash. His swordsmanship was nothing to her fancy eyes; even his surest strikes weren't enough to penetrate her flab. Milk's depression grew.

Only then did Billy, his forced companion by means of a lost children's game, revealed his powers as a Saint. Awed and bitter, Milk sought to face this strength to at least gain some savor in defeating the boy. And yet, again he was thrashed about and laden as a pile of bones upon the ground, dreading the animation that maintained his bitter unlife as the boy danced around like it was a game.

The miserable naval skeleton would spend his days listening to Billy's exploits upon the missions, becoming a glorified cheerleader to his ward as he ambled on forth.

But a fateful alarm outside the city led Milk to view one of the few people he called a friend, Deidamia, being attacked by the city. It was that day, after offering input that was swiftly dismissed, Milk left with Billy to find the only man that had ever spoken pure sense to him. He went to Ermir's castle, and asked for the truth.

Learning of Vipor's corruption, and of the meaningless, perpetuated struggle; and faced with a choice between continuing to live hollowly with his blade useless by his side, or to reap souls once again for a purpose that actually mattered; an underdog's fight for change, Milk swore his fealty to Ermir and ensured Billy followed close behind.

He would become death, or die trying. Well, again. Permanently. Probably.