He turned, looking toward the back of the shop. Past the forge. Past the workbenches.
In the corner, half-hidden by shadow, was a pile of broken weapons. Failed projects. Scrap metal waiting to be melted down and reforged.
The pull came from there.
"What's back there?" Kai pointed.
Hong glanced over. "Junk. Failed experiments, broken weapons, scrap I haven't gotten around to melting yet. Nothing worth your time."
But Kai was already walking toward it, drawn forward by that persistent pull.
"Kid, seriously, it's just trash—"
Kai ignored him. His Sword Law resonated with something in that pile. Something calling to him.
He reached the corner and started moving aside broken blades and bent hilts.
And there, at the bottom of the pile, he found it.
A sword.
A jian-style straight blade, maybe 28 inches long.
Completely covered in rust.
