The blade was obsidian black, darker than night, as if it drank the light instead of reflecting it. Its surface was smooth and glass-like, yet not fragile.
The sword kept the composite shape—a long main blade with a second edge running close along its spine—but the inner gap between them was slightly widened. This made the air pass through more cleanly, letting the blade cut faster without losing weight.
Small jagged ridges rested near the base, not for show, but to catch and redirect an enemy’s weapon during close clashes.
The edge was not flashy. It was thin, straight, and cruelly precise.
The balance leaned forward, the blade fragnts grew broader as it continued away from the handle.
"This...is not your typical sword," the bushy-brow man said.
William nodded, "Well, we can see that...but what exactly makes it perfect for ?"
He could tell that the blade had been made with long hours of precise working to make it perfectly aligning despite the unusual texture.
"Why don’t you pick it and try it yourself?" He suggested.
William humd before nodding. The truth was, he was itching to hold the sword.
He could tell that this sword had sothing different from the usual weapon he co across.
While there was no energy radiating from it, its structure, the polish of the blade, the deep raven shade...it was pulling him closer to the weapon.
’Let’s see...’ As his fingers curled around the handle, he realized the handle was made of hard tal with leather clad around it.
"Whoa...it’s heavy." William exclaid as he lifted the blade with one hand but had to use the other hand soon to keep it stable.
"It’s around sixty kilograms, so yes, it’s heavy."
Emma’s brows elevated, "Is it the tal of the blade? Then...isn’t it a blunt weapon rather than a sword?"
The man grinned and said, "It could be both; if you know how to use it, you can cleave soone’s head or hamr it to a paste."
William humd, "Sounds intriguing. Well, should I give it a test?"
The man nodded, "Co with . There is a testing room on the other side."
Emma and William exchanged a glance and followed the man deeper into the workshop.
Not so long after, they entered a hall which was completely empty except for the straw dolls kept on the other side; naturally to test weapons.
The man, who had introduced himself as Galleo, said, "Beware, you can seriously injure yourself if you get even a little over-excited. Pay attention to its movent and protect your body all the ti."
That got Emma a little worked up, the girl prepared to use her ability to heal William—who looked over-excited already—if things went wrong.
William held the blade and grew closer to the training dolls.
Holding the blade with both hands, he gave it a swing
The blade carved the air with a low hiss, heavy but controlled. The second swing followed, wider, faster, the montum pulling his shoulders along with it. The reach was good—better than expected—and the edge passed close enough to the nearest straw doll to ruffle its bindings without touching it.
William exhaled and stepped forward.
On the third swing, sothing changed.
A sharp, hollow sound rang out.
The blade fractured.
Obsidian-black segnts split apart along hidden seams, separating mid-swing without warning. For a heartbeat, the fragnts lagged behind, suspended in the air like broken pieces of night—then they moved.
They cut.
Each shard followed the path of the original swing, slicing through the air in staggered arcs. The straw dolls were struck an instant later. One lost its head cleanly. Another was torn open across the chest, straw spilling out in a dry rush. A third was cut in half before the sound of impact even reached William’s ears.
His eyes widened.
The sudden loss of resistance threw his balance off. The hilt felt wrong in his hands—too light, too empty. William took an unsteady step, boots scraping against the ground as he pulled back, muscles tightening to keep himself upright.
"So that’s how you behave..." he muttered.
The fragnts didn’t scatter wildly. They hovered just ahead of the hilt, trembling, waiting.
William adjusted his grip, slowing his breathing. He rolled his shoulders, then swung again—this ti with restraint.
The shards responded late, dragging behind the motion, cutting wider than he intended. Two straw dolls were shredded unevenly, their stands snapping as they collapsed.
"Tch."
Another swing. Smaller. More deliberate.
This ti, the fragnts followed closer, their paths tightening. The air humd as if sliced by invisible wires. The remaining straw dolls shuddered as clean lines appeared across them before they fell apart piece by piece.
William lowered the weapon, chest rising and falling.
It was difficult. Unstable. Unforgiving.
But as he looked at the ruined testing ground and the silent, drifting fragnts of the blade returning toward the hilt, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
He was starting to understand it.
He was starting to like having this as his backup plan.
Returning to the other two, he saw the man grinning ear to ear.
"I bet you liked that," he said.
William nodded without hesitation, "It’s perfect for close and mid-range battles."
The creator added, "And if you will, you can use that knife attached to the tail of its handle as a projectile too."
William’s brows elevated before he held the small ring at the base of the handle and slowly pulled it—revealing a seven inches long knife coming out of the handle.
"Sweet, that covers everything I was looking for." The blond one muttered.
Emma was happy to see her lover being satisfied with his new weapon
That child-like smile on his face was too adorable to resist. She wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him right now. But she held herself back for the ti being and asked the man, "How much for the blade?"
The man humd. Crossing his arms he said, "You can’t exactly pay for this blade using coins."
William looked up as he rested the blade on the side and asked, "What do you an? Are you not willing to sell it?"
The man shook his head and said, "I need material as a paynt for that blade. Material from a specific monster."
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