Going through Prince Thalorien's stats, I was certain that clash should have ended in my victory. But somehow, I failed to overpower him. In fact, it felt like I nearly got overpowered.
The only reasonable explanation was the strange-looking spear in his hand.
Sylethorn.
'What the hell is a living artifact?' I couldn't help but wonder.
Ding!
[A living artifact is a magical weapon with a consciousness of its own. These are the highest grade of weapons in this realm and are coveted by everyone. Unfortunately, living artifacts choose their wielders—not the other way around.]
I was taken aback by the response. This stingy system was never the type to give out free information, so why was it telling me this?
"Answer me, Demon!" Thalorien screamed, his voice not too deep, not too light either.
It was perfect.
The perfect voice.
"Demon?" I scoffed, my tone laced with envy. "Did you just call me a demon?"
My eyes flashed a threatening red—but that didn't faze Thalorien.
