Chapter 40: The Blade That Should Not Be
The chamber was vast and silent, carved into the mountain's heart. No light touched this place—only the soft, pulsing glow of the sword that hovered at the center.
Jean approached it slowly.
The air around the blade shimmered with heat and memory. Ancient inscriptions circled the dais in a forgotten tongue, yet Jean understood them. Not through study—but through instinct.
> "This blade was sealed to protect the world from the bearer, not to protect the bearer from the world."
The sword pulsed as if it heard her thoughts. Its aura was wild—not divine, not entirely demonic. It was something primordial, a raw forge of fury and destruction.
Jean reached out.
"Are you afraid?" a voice whispered from the dark. It was neither male nor female—neither kind nor cruel. It simply was.
"I've faced worse than fear," Jean replied.
Her fingers brushed the hilt.
Fire exploded through her mind—memories not her own.
Dragons screaming. Cities burning. Swords clashing.
A man in black wielding the blade against Antares himself. His face hidden, his aura absolute.
Then silence.
Jean staggered, gasping. Her knees buckled. Whitney howled beyond the sealed door, his bond with her surging with protective fury.
But Jean stood.
The sword hovered into her hand.
It felt like holding a star.
Then the voice returned, clearer this time.
> "I am Eclipsion. I was wielded by the Lost Master. You are not him."
Jean's grip tightened. "No. I'm better."
The sword accepted her.
Its flame turned silver.
And with it, a second voice rose—her own—but older, stronger, tinged with sorrow and purpose.
> "The Light will falter. The Blade will burn. The Emissary must choose which to follow."
---
Above ground, Charles Luther jolted awake in his meditation.
The room shook briefly.
He frowned. "She found it."
He turned to a waiting figure in the shadows.
"Summon Silvia," he said coldly. "The time for neutrality is over."
---
Far away, in a ruined temple deep within the Shroudlands, a colossal figure stirred beneath molten stone.
A dragon's eye opened.
Antares felt the sword awaken.
And for the first time in centuries…
He smiled.
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