"I'm here to buy spatial rings for the four of them. I know you have the good-quality ones; the bigger the storage, the better."
Benson nodded. "Alright, give me a second. I'll go look for them. You can check out the store while I go get them."
Vladislav moved through the shelves alone. He looked at the different types of weapons on the shelves stored in glass cubes.
Every weapon he saw looked top-quality, whether it was a spear, bow, or any type of weapon. Here in this shop, it was the real deal, even though he didn't know much about the quality of weapons. The pressure, the aura the weapons inside the glass cubes exuded were enough.
He walked around, looking for the sword section. It was hard to find because the shop was so vast that he probably wouldn't be able to see everything it contained.
After minutes of walking, he finally found the sword section. Dozens of swords were displayed: longswords, greatswords, estocs, etc.
One of the swords caught his eye.
It was a longsword. It had a long hilt covered with black leather. Its blade was sharp and long. Running down the blade were small mana crystals, probably there to enhance the power of the weapon. The crystals glowed bluish, like the ocean.
It looked beautiful. The person who crafted it was definitely a great blacksmith. But just as he was about to look at the other weapons, he suddenly felt a strong feeling and aura pressing on his body—a call—something was calling him.
He looked around, trying to see what it was, but saw nothing. He first thought that it was killing intent, but then he dismissed the thought.
Killing intent brings fear, and I'm not feeling it. It feels more like an invitation.
As he looked around, he felt that the strong aura was coming from the far back of the shop.
He didn't know what it was, so he moved blindly toward the aura that was calling him so intently.
The further he walked toward the aura, the stronger it got.
What is this feeling? And why is it that the closer I get, the stronger it becomes?
He kept walking deeper into the shop, to the point that he saw dust on some shelves.
It seemed like no one had come here in a while.
He looked around, seeing so many weapons and artifacts gathering dust.
It seemed these things had been here for a long time.
As he walked deeper, the feeling grew stronger.
It's close…
The aura grew closer and closer.
He turned a corner around the shelves and suddenly stopped.
Vladislav froze mid-step as he looked at the katana from afar.
So far, from what he had seen, every type of weapon in this shop had a variety—but not the katana section.
There was only one weapon.
A black, ominous katana sheathed in an obsidian-black sheath.
It stood ten meters away from him, but it felt like he was already face-to-face with the katana.
It wasn't in a glass box like the others; it was just on a stand in the open air.
Unlike the other items he had seen back there, gathering dust, the katana was clean—no signs of dust.
As he looked at it, the calling felt much stronger than before; the pressure it gave off was dark—too dark that Vladislav hesitated to get close at first.
He gulped and then moved toward it.
"So this is where that aura was coming from. But why didn't Grandma notice such an ominous energy leaking from this weapon, and only I did?"
Normally, awakeners of a higher rank are more sensitive to aura. The aura the katana was releasing was very strong, and Mary would have sensed it and rushed to him, but she didn't for some reason.
Is it only me feeling it?
He stopped in front of it.
Standing before the black katana felt like standing on the edge of a cliff in the dead of night—his body leaned forward, as if something unseen was pulling him in. The sword did not simply intimidate; it suffocated him.
The katana was breathtaking, and the pressure it gave off was darkly intoxicating. It was ominous, yet alluring.
The sheath was forged from lacquered wood hardened with void-forged metal; it was flawless black, absorbing. Across its surface, faint silver-violet patterns rippled like waves in still water, shifting subtly when viewed from different angles.
Etched in ancient silver-violet script was its name:
"Nox Abyssalis"
The letters appeared burned into the sheath itself, glowing faintly in dim light, as though written in the last embers of a dying star.
Beneath it, carved in solemn, timeless letters, were the words:
"He who gazes long into the abyss shall find the abyss gazing back."
Vladislav's eyes widened after reading those words.
"Fuck, those are the same words I heard in my dream earlier when I was in the carriage… so fucking ominous," he cursed.
"Does that mean the dream was caused because of this blade… n-no way… did you lead me here on purpose…?" Vladislav muttered.
"Nox Abyssalis…"
The moment he muttered that name, the blade shook and started trembling. Vladislav jumped back in response. "What the actual fuck was that? Is that sword alive or something?"
Though he jumped back, he was not scared—only surprised.
The katana stopped trembling.
He moved closer again and looked at the sheath.
The hilt was bound in scaled leather, and faint runes were etched into the crossguard.
He slowly moved his hand and lifted the katana by the sheath. He gripped the hilt. It felt cold.
Damn, why is it so cold?
The hilt was wrapped in black ray skin, cold and almost lifeless to the touch, as if it had absorbed the chill of the abyss itself. Over this, the grip was bound with a thread of midnight-violet silk, almost imperceptible in dim light, so tightly that his fingers felt subtle resistance, as if the blade itself were testing his grip.
He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his palm as he tried to unsheathe it.
"Fuck, that hurts!" he groaned.
He tried to remove his hand, but it was stuck on the grip.
The fuck?
The pain did not last long and vanished.
He looked at his palm.
There was a tiny wound that was already closing.
"Did you just drink my blood? What kind of weird katana are you? That is some demonic shit," he cursed.
After it sucked his blood, he was able to feel a connection with the katana that was not there before
He was then able to unsheathe the katana.
The lights of the shop flickered as it was drawn.
When Nox Abyssalis was drawn, the air itself recoiled. A chill spread outward, heavy and suffocating, as if the area around Vladislav was sinking beneath invisible waters. Shadows stretched unnaturally, drawn toward the blade.
The faint hum of the katana was not steel singing, but the whisper of the void—low, endless, and hungry. To those who stood against it, the sword felt less like a weapon and more like a rift in the world, a reminder that darkness is infinite and mercy does not dwell there.
"This… this is on another level. How can a weapon make me feel like this?"
He looked at the dark blade of the katana, which seemed endless, like staring into the heart of the abyss, with faint violet glimmers that rippled like drowned starlight.
He swung the katana, and it sliced through the air silently. Every swing carried silence, as though the world held its breath.
Each strike was sharper than he had ever felt with his training katana. The sensation it gave was intoxicating—the thrill of infinite power humming through his veins.
As he swung, he felt like the katana belonged to him all along.
"It feels almost as if… It's alive," Vladislav said, smiling as he continued slashing.
The balance was flawless, deceptively light, making the blade feel as though it moved before thought itself.
"It's perfect, obedient, light, and perfectly balanced. And for some reason, it does not make any sound when I slash."
He felt like he could cut through anything. He wrapped the blade with his darkness.
It absorbed the darkness as if it belonged to the blade to begin with. "You fit well with my darkness affinity."
The blade trembled in response.
He then stopped swinging and looked at the blade once more. "This must be hella expensive. Well, it is not like we cannot afford it, but for Mr. Benson to get something like this—it must have cost a fortune. Scratch that, where the hell did he get something like this?"
He sheathed the katana. "I must convince Grandma at all costs before someone else gets it."
He then turned around and got startled.
Benson and Mary were standing right in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes.
When the lights flickered earlier, both Benson and Mary had felt an energy. Noticing that Vladislav was nowhere around, they moved toward it and found him swinging the katana.
Benson pointed at him with a trembling finger. "My old age is not catching up to me, right? Because tell me he did not just unsheathe that cursed sword. Are my eyes deceiving me?"
"No, they are not," Mary, too, was shocked. "He did. He actually did it!" she smiled.
Vladislav was puzzled by their reaction. "Uhm, is there something wrong?"