With soft but steady steps, I approached the pedestal where the weapons lay. The air seemed to vibrate, charged with a mysterious sensation, as if each blade, each hilt, waited impatiently for the chosen one who would wield it. The runic engravings shone subtly: some gave off a faint, soft glow, like a barely perceptible murmur; others, on the other hand, emanated an imposing, almost aggressive presence that made my skin crawl just by approaching them.
I examined each one, but none caught my attention, at least until my eyes fell on a long, curved blade. It was different from the others, its shape reminiscent of a katana, elegant and lethal, its design truly fascinating. My intuition told me that this sword was not normal; rather, it felt as if it had been forged to cut not only flesh, but also the very essence of whatever its blade connected with.
I reached out and took it decisively.
The weapon reacted immediately.
