Dark-crimson sword mist wriggled around the blade like a living thing.
Within the groove at the crossguard, it was as if blood were slowly flowing, exuding a suffocating pressure.
"This world-ending divine sword… it may have a name that once shook the heavens."
Chiusen's voice was heavy.
"It feels more like a fragmented incarnation of some supreme will."
"It seduces the strong, grants them peerless power, and in the end turns its wielder into a puppet that knows only slaughter—devouring everything. Even High Gods from the god realm cannot escape it!"
"The ancient Sword Sovereign warned us that its very existence may be a vicious curse aimed at our world."
Suggwoth stared at the sword.
He could sense a malice within it—something far beyond the limits of his understanding.
"Impossible to destroy?" he asked.
"At least by any means we know," Chiusen replied, pointing toward the rune-chains that had almost fused into the sword itself.
