Black energy coiled through the room like the breath of a monster. The walls were cracked, the stone beneath the sword trembled, and the air smelled of blood and metal.
The woman pulled her metal hood lower. The faint blue light that had briefly run across her clothes faded, and she stepped forward like a living shadow.
This time, the sword's pressure wave couldn't push her back.
In a soft, slithering whisper, the sword murmured:
"Do you want power?… Power that will bring the world to its knees… Just pull me out of this prison…"
The woman's eyes turned icy. Her pupils froze.
Her hand slowly rose.
"Power… I want power… to kill my sworn enemy…"
The sword's hilt opened its mouth. Sharp teeth scraped against each other like tiny blades.
The stone around it cracked.
Just one touch… one contact… and the sword would be free.
Creeeeak…
The massive door of the chamber opened with a long groan.
"What are you doing?"
It was Zeno.
He tilted his head, hands in his pockets, expression indifferent… yet his eyes were deeper than ever.
The sword instantly withdrew its energy.
The woman blinked, as if waking from a dream.
"You…?"
Zeno glanced at the commander's bones. Then at the dead soldiers. Then directly at the sword.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
The sword laughed harshly.
"Ohooo… what an interesting being… You smell of power… You're better than this woman… Take me. I'll give you power enough to tear the sky apart…"
A faint gray aura trembled around Zeno.
The woman stepped back.
"Don't get close! That damn thing is alive!"
Zeno walked forward calmly.
The sword's energy surged toward him—but this time, it reversed.
It was as if the energy was being pulled from the sword into Zeno.
For the first time, the sword trembled.
"What…? Why is my power… being—"
Zeno stopped in front of it.
No excitement. No anger.
Just a cold stare.
"You talk too much."
He slowly raised his hand.
Not to grab it.
To press it down.
With nothing but his invisible aura, he forced the sword deeper into the stone.
The rock beneath cracked.
The black energy wailed.
The sword screamed in fear:
"What are you?!"
Zeno's eyes darkened to a deeper gray for a moment.
"Me?…"
A crooked smile formed.
"I'm just a normal guy who doesn't like noisy things."
The pressure increased.
The sword's teeth cracked.
The red veins along its blade dimmed.
And suddenly—
KRRRRAACK!
The sword split in half.
The dark energy vanished like smoke.
Silence.
The woman stared in disbelief.
A sword that had devoured a commander in seconds… destroyed with a simple motion.
Zeno slowly turned his head toward her. His gaze looked normal… too normal.
"And you? What were you doing here?"
Sweat ran beneath the woman's metal hood, a drop sliding down her temple.
Her eyes trembled for a moment, but she quickly regained control.
"I… I came to clean the room. When I entered, I saw the sword had killed everyone…"
The room still smelled of blood. The commander's dried bones lay inside his armor. The walls were slashed and cracked.
Zeno narrowed his eyes slightly.
He didn't speak.
He didn't move.
He just looked.
That alone made her sweat more.
"He… didn't believe me…"
Suddenly, Zeno bent down. The movement was slow—but unexpected.
His face came closer.
"So… you're not hurt?"
Thinking he might be simpler than he appeared, she straightened up and normalized her tone.
"No… I'm fine."
Zeno replied calmly,
"That's good. Let's leave this room. It's dangerous for you here."
She paused briefly. Then, in a controlled voice, said:
"Can you pull that sword out for me?"
Zeno tilted his head slightly and looked behind him.
"That black sword?"
She quickly answered,
"No… the other one. The one next to it with the golden hilt."
Raito's sword.
The blade embedded in stone to restrain Kleinor—the Shinigami Demon King's sword. Deep cracks surrounded it, as if the earth itself refused to let it go.
Zeno asked curiously,
"What do you need it for?"
She replied smoothly,
"I have to take it to sharpen and clean the blade."
Zeno answered coolly,
"Then clean it here."
She gave a short laugh. A little too artificial.
"No… that sword needs special tools to sharpen it. I have to take it to the workshop."
Zeno stared at the sword for a few seconds.
"Hmm… must be important then."
Without straining.
Without focusing.
He wrapped his hand around the golden hilt.
KRRRK…
The stone cracked.
And with one simple motion—
Raito's sword was pulled free.
The blade flashed in the air. A gentle pressure filled the room.
A sword said to be movable only by Raito or a Great Archangel…
Rested in Zeno's hand like an ordinary object.
He held it out to her.
"Here. Your sword."
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second.
But she quickly controlled herself.
"One moment…"
From her belt filled with tools and daggers, she pulled something out.
A silver bracelet. Smooth on the surface, but under the light, tiny engraved lines became visible.
Zeno asked curiously,
"What's that for?"
She answered calmly,
"Nothing… just so I can hold it properly. This is my lucky charm."
She lifted the bracelet. The metal gleamed cold and lifeless.
Zeno's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh… so you believe in those things."
She lowered her brows.
"Believe in what?"
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Luck… fate… stuff like that."
Suddenly, the smile vanished.
His face grew serious. His voice lowered, heavier.
"I don't believe in those things."
She remained silent.
Zeno continued,
"Luck means staying weak—then when you lose, you say you were unlucky."
His eyes locked onto hers.
"Fate means quitting halfway or not trying hard enough—then when it fails, you say it wasn't meant to be."
Silence.
For a moment, the woman truly fell into thought.
Not because of his words…
But because of the boy who, without effort, had pulled a sword that even heroes feared to touch.