Ethan looked down at the Black Chaos Sword in his right hand, which continued to emit that humble, piteous metallic hum. The contrast between the blade's ferocious reputation and the way it was begging to devour the relic was almost absurd.
"Alright, don't get impatient," whispered Ethan, taking a couple of steps toward the colossal metal pillar. "Make the most of the fact that it's trapped."
[Go ahead, Master], encouraged Crul from his shoulder, watching with narrowed eyes. [Place the tip of the blade directly against the staff's surface. Let it sense the essence of divine iron and wood.]
Ethan raised the Black Chaos Sword and pressed the dark tip of the blade against the etched surface of the Monkey King's Staff.
