She slowly turned in place, her gaze sweeping across the room in awe.
Her eyes drifted toward one side of the room.
A neatly arranged set of weapons rested there, mounted along reinforced racks.
Swords, spears, axes, staffs—each one polished, well-maintained, and radiating a faint aura that marked their quality.
Bliss stepped closer, inspecting them with a trained eye.
"…E to C rank," she murmured quietly.
There was a clear progression in craftsmanship and aura.
The lower-ranked weapons were simple and practical, while the higher-ranked ones carried a sharper presence, more refined, more dangerous.
It was an impressive collection for a dorm room, even by elite standards.
She stepped back and lightly stomped the ground once.
Then again.
Her brow twitched slightly as she felt the floor beneath her boots barely react.
"…The whole thing's really sturdy," she muttered to herself.
