Arthur emerged slowly from his hiding spot, keeping his presence as undetectable as possible. The wind still stirred his pale blond hair restlessly.
The tornado was still there. Even at a distance, its size was impossible to ignore. The terrain around it still bore the marks of its passage.
The village they had searched and used as shelter was barely standing.
Several structures had been partially torn from their foundations, leaning at impossible angles. Fragments of stone and wood were scattered everywhere, meters and meters in every direction, mixed with dark dust that the wind still dragged slowly across the surroundings.
Even the ground had changed. Long, deep furrows marked the tornado's path, stretching across the earth like scars.
Arthur lowered his gaze for a moment.
He remembered perfectly the moment the storm had appeared. It had materialized instantly, without any warning. The sudden spike in pressure. The way the current had tried to envelop him.
If he hadn't reacted immediately, he would have been lifted off the ground without effort and sucked into the tornado's core.
Fortunately, he had circulated his four enhancements unconsciously, reinforcing his body and stabilizing his center of gravity just as the wind's force tried to drag him away. Even so, his feet had lost contact with the ground for a brief instant.
Only a second—but more than enough to understand how dangerous it was to face that thing directly.
His gaze returned to the horizon.
The tornado continued advancing in the distance, and it wasn't moving at random. Arthur could perceive a pattern in its trajectory.
It was following Sunny. And despite the distance, the sheer scale of the phenomenon made it impossible to lose sight of it. It was like a dark signal moving across the desolate landscape.
Following it seemed like a logical option. If Sunny was still alive, he was probably trying to escape that thing.
Arthur took a step in that direction, then stopped.
It wasn't a good idea.
Moving behind a tornado meant entering its territory. Even keeping his distance, there was no way to know if the creature could detect him—and if the tornado suddenly changed direction… Arthur wasn't sure he could escape easily.
Moreover, the mere movement of the phenomenon was already altering the environment. Following it meant constantly exposing himself to that danger. It was too risky.
If Sunny had managed to survive this long, he had likely found some way to evade it.
Arthur decided to trust that. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the other point of interest they had seen before.
The first village.
Unlike the current village they had found, that settlement had already been destroyed when they discovered it. Only the remains of ancient structures were left, eroded by time and by the constant passage of storms.
If there was something hidden in this region, the other village might be a good place to search. It was better to continue with the original plan he and Sunny had devised yesterday. If there were answers in that place, they needed to find them.
Arthur began to move, the same way he had at the start of their journey.
The wind blew steadily, but without the unnatural violence of the tornado. The landscape remained silent, motionless, as if nothing had changed in centuries—or even longer.
Eventually, the next village appeared before him, and just as he expected… it was completely empty.
There was no trace of recent life.
The structures that still remained standing showed clear signs of age. The stone was worn, the surfaces marked by countless storms that had battered the region for years, perhaps centuries or millennia.
Some walls were partially collapsed, while others barely held together or could barely be identified as walls at all. The place conveyed a sense of absolute abandonment.
Arthur advanced cautiously, keeping his senses alert for any anomaly.
He entered several structures. Most were nothing more than the remains of what had once been dwellings.
He checked old furniture, finding only tools whose purpose was difficult to identify. Cracked tables and incomplete chairs. Structures warped by time.
But nothing. No trace of life, and no sign of danger either.
Only abandonment.
After several hours of finding nothing relevant, Arthur decided to get a better view of the surroundings.
He climbed one of the tallest structures still standing, using the remains of a partially damaged staircase to reach the highest point. From there, the landscape stretched unobstructed in multiple directions.
That was when he saw it—another possible trail of answers.
Another village, but much farther away. Barely visible on the horizon and extremely difficult to distinguish with the naked eye, but unmistakable for someone with his eyesight.
Arthur observed it for a few seconds, memorizing the exact location before descending, a renewed hope settling into his body.
If there were multiple settlements in this region, then a pattern existed—and patterns led to answers. Without wasting more time, he began to move once again.
The path was relatively calm at first.
The wind blew strongly, but not abnormally for that territory, maintaining that constant sound that had already become part of the background of everything. Arthur kept a steady pace, not hurrying too much, but never relaxing either. His perception remained expanded, attentive to any anomaly in the flow of aether or sudden changes in the environment. He didn't expect the journey to be completely safe, but at least during this stretch, everything seemed to stay within predictable limits.
Even so, he didn't let his guard down for an instant.
After what had happened with Sunny, he knew perfectly well that those creatures could appear without warning and turn a controlled situation into an immediate problem. He had no intention of being caught off guard again.
But to his misfortune, he felt a small change in the pressure around him.
It was subtle, but unmistakable. The air stopped behaving naturally, acquiring an irregular density that instantly altered his perception of the environment. Arthur stopped immediately, his expression hardening as he turned his head north.
The sky seemed to darken at a specific point.
The wind began to circulate differently. It wasn't simply stronger—it was… directed.
A tornado had formed again, suddenly, and it was coming straight for him.
Arthur clicked his tongue in irritation as he circulated his enhancements, the flow of power running through his body with familiarity. He had been detected. No doubt about it. These things didn't wander at random like mere natural phenomena. They were actively hunting them.
"Perfect… just what I needed."
Without wasting time, he began to move.
The sound of the wind rapidly increasing behind him made it clear that the creature had no intention of letting him escape. The speed at which the air pressure changed confirmed that the tornado was closing in much faster than would be normal even for an ordinary storm.
The ground trembled slightly with each passing second, small vibrations running through the earth as the creature advanced, destroying everything in its path.
Arthur increased his speed immediately, but the tornado was approaching too quickly. Escaping in a straight line wouldn't work.
Even with his enhancements, he couldn't outrun something that was literally compressed wind in continuous motion.
He needed cover. He needed something that would interfere with the movement of the air. Something that would reduce the creature's natural advantage.
His eyes scanned the terrain quickly as his mind evaluated possibilities. The thought of activating [Former King] crossed his mind, and he almost did it unconsciously, but he managed to control the impulse at the last moment.
His eyes swept over scattered rock formations, uneven terrain, small elevations… something that could actually stop a phenomenon of that magnitude. But he knew there was only one way to escape, and then he saw it.
A cave.
It wasn't particularly large, but the entrance was narrow enough to restrict airflow.
'That might work' he thought.
Without stopping to think too much, he changed direction immediately and ran toward it, adjusting his trajectory as the wind began to intensify at an alarming rate.
The creature reacted almost instantly.
The wind yanked at his body violently, as if trying to stop him before he reached his goal. Loose fragments of stone began to slide across the ground, dragged by the current of air.
Arthur leaned his body slightly forward, stabilizing his center of gravity while focusing on coordinating his legs. He couldn't afford to lose speed now.
The pressure increased with every passing second… and the sound of the wind was no longer a simple constant whistle, but a deep roar that made the air itself vibrate.
He entered the cave barely a few seconds before the tornado reached the entrance.
The change was immediate.
The roar of the wind became deafening, amplified by the enclosed space of the cave. The airflow compressed violently against the opening, trying to force its way in, as if the creature refused to let him escape.
Arthur advanced a few more steps inward, watching cautiously what was happening behind him.
The creature tried to follow him, but it couldn't fully enter. The space was too narrow to maintain its original form.
The airflow began to compress, losing stability as it tried to adapt to an environment that limited its natural movement. The pressure increased erratically, generating chaotic currents inside the cave's entrance.
Then something strange happened.
Arthur's face went pale.
The tornado split.
One part remained outside, spinning violently, as if trying to maintain its main structure intact. The other compressed itself, deforming to enter the confined space of the cave.
In that moment, he understood that the creature truly had no intention of letting him escape.
Arthur retreated several steps, quickly assessing the situation. There wasn't enough space to maneuver freely.
The current of wind inside the cave was unstable, but extremely dangerous. The flow wasn't uniform, creating unpredictable zones of pressure that could crush his body at any moment. Escape was no longer an option.
He would have to kill it.
Arthur took a deep breath, calming his mind as he expanded his Aether Sense.
The flow of Aether inside the tornado was chaotic… but not completely disordered. There was structure. There was a pattern.
Arthur frowned slightly as he analyzed the circulation of energy.
This wasn't simply wind spinning at random. There was coherence in the movement. An internal logic.
He remembered that in the Waking World, tornadoes had a key zone called the central vortex. The point where rotation was most intense. The point where the phenomenon remained cohesive.
If that same logic applied to this creature… then there must be an equivalent. A center—or in this case, the actual creature should be at the center.
Arthur observed the movement of the wind inside the cave more closely, ignoring the deafening noise that filled the space and reminded him strongly of the Aether storm from the other zone.
Even though this was a storm created by a creature, it should function the same way.
The pressure was immense. Even with his enhancements active, he could feel the constant tension trying to unbalance his posture. Being fully absorbed would be dangerous, even with his current resistance and augmented physique. This creature was clearly of a higher rank and class than him.
His body could be destroyed before he had a chance to act if he miscalculated the timing—but he didn't have many alternatives.
Static Void could interfere with the flow of Aether. If he managed to affect the center of the phenomenon… he could destabilize the entire structure and create an opportunity to kill it. It was risky, but it was viable—or so he wanted to believe.
Arthur took a step forward.
The wind reacted immediately, as if the creature had perceived his intention.
The pressure surged, generating a high-pitched sound as the air compressed against the cave walls. Fragments of rock detached from the ceiling, falling to the ground with sharp impacts.
Arthur launched himself forward without hesitation—and the wind engulfed him instantly.
His body was dragged, losing firm contact with the ground as the current tried to incorporate him into the rotation. For a moment, the pressure was almost unbearable.
His armor and enhancements were the only things keeping the creature from crushing him.
The pressure shifted without warning, alternating between pushing and tearing, as if the air had become an invisible machine bent on dismantling him from every possible angle.
Arthur didn't try to resist directly. He simply couldn't.
Every attempt to regain stability was immediately countered by a new variation in the current, a different force acting on his body with precision. The interior of the tornado wasn't chaotic… it was controlled.
He decided to wait. He needed to reach the center. Only there could Static Void affect the creature's entire structure. Only there would he have a real chance.
The problem, obviously, was surviving until that point.
The pressure increased progressively as he was dragged inward, as if the creature were compressing space itself around him. His armor creaked for the first time—a dry sound barely audible over the deafening roar of the wind. Another crack appeared, then another.
Every moment spent inside the rotation increased the strain on his body, on his bones, on every layer of protection keeping him whole. His breathing became irregular, not from lack of air, but from the difficulty of maintaining control over his own diaphragm while opposing forces tried to collapse it.
The flow of Aether grew more intense the closer he got to the core. He could feel it. He was close. He just had to hold on a little longer.
The point where movement ceased to be mere rotation and became cohesion. That was where the creature was. He knew it.
His armor creaked again, this time far more alarmingly. One of the side plates deformed, unable to withstand the differential pressure acting on it.
Arthur made an immediate decision and redirected his four enhancements. The flow of power abandoned his body and concentrated entirely on the armor. Fortunately, the change was immediate. The structure stopped yielding so easily.
But the price was also immediate.
Without enhancements directly reinforcing his body, the pressure began affecting his organs far more intensely. A sharp pain appeared in his ears, and then his vision wavered.
Internal pressure increased dangerously fast, as if something were trying to expand inside his skull without enough space to do so. His right ear emitted a high-pitched ringing, then another.
His field of vision contracted slightly, small black spots appearing at the edges. His eyes were beginning to suffer from the pressure differential.
He could feel them threatening to damage themselves if he continued waiting too long—but he still wasn't at the center. It wasn't time to act yet.
He waited another second. Tried to endure one more. Then the flow of Aether became extremely dense, and the coherence of the movement reached a critical point. Without waiting any longer, he activated Static Void.
The reaction was immediate.
The world around him stopped abruptly. The perfect rotation of the tornado lost continuity the instant Static Void enveloped the entire storm. The wind ceased to exist. The pressure stopped shifting. Everything hung suspended in a motionless instant.
The entire tornado froze—but the price was brutal, and Arthur noticed it immediately. The number of fragments he began losing was overwhelming.
He felt the loss of fragments as if parts of his own existence were being torn away one after another, not giving him time to react. Each fraction of a second using Static Void consumed fragments at an alarming rate.
Even with the benefit of his Aspect Legacy, the expenditure was much faster than he had anticipated. For an instant, he thought he wouldn't have enough time.
The frozen storm released him, and his body fell downward without any resistance. He landed on his feet through sheer inertia and instinctive control, barely maintaining his balance. He decided to invoke [Veiled Edge].
The Memory materialized as a spear, and Arthur looked toward the center of the phenomenon.
His Aether Sense told him exactly where the creature was—but his eyes saw nothing. It was completely invisible. A presence impossible to perceive through normal means.
The loss of fragments increased again.
He redirected his enhancements once more, withdrawing them from the armor and returning them to his body. Without losing an instant, he threw [Veiled Edge] directly toward the point where his Aether Sense indicated the creature's position.
As the Memory traveled through the air, he began running forward. And just as he expected… the creature reacted. He had only frozen the storm's effect, not the creature itself. It managed to dodge the spear—but that was the point. A distraction.
In the next instant, Dawn's Ballad appeared in his hand mid-motion, its blade manifesting as Arthur adjusted his posture. He calculated the position based on the slightest perturbation his Aether Sense had detected at the moment of displacement.
He cut in a precise arc—but the resistance was immediate. A solid sensation where there should have been nothing.
The pressure that Static Void had been containing began to lessen slightly—and Arthur didn't stop.
He pivoted his body and executed a second descending cut with Dawn's Ballad, guiding himself entirely by perception and experience. This time, the blade passed through the invisible figure.
There was no doubt this time. He felt the separation. The structure breaking. He felt the presence that had held the phenomenon together split into two distinct parts.
The pressure on Static Void dropped abruptly, and Arthur deactivated the attribute immediately before fragment consumption became dangerous.
The world regained movement with a jolt, and the air collapsed in on itself. The tornado disintegrated as if it had never possessed a real structure to sustain it.
And then the spell spoke:
[You have slain a Fallen Devil: Obscured Tempest]
[Your aether grows stronger]
'¿A Fallen Devil? Huh.'
Arthur remained motionless for a few seconds, letting his breathing return to a steady rhythm while the distant echo of the battle still vibrated in his senses. His body still remembered the impossible pressure of the storm, the sensation of being compressed from all directions at once, the constant threat of being reduced to nothing if he made the slightest mistake.
He knew that there existed creatures whose true danger lay not in their direct physical strength, but in the nature of their abilities.
Creatures that didn't need to be resilient if they could avoid being harmed in the first place.
The ability to protect itself with an entire tornado as an outer layer… made that thing an absurdly difficult enemy for most Awakened to kill. Without Static Void, he wouldn't have even been able to approach the core.
Anyone else would have been torn apart long before understanding how the creature even worked.
Arthur let out a slow exhale.
He had won, but the cost hadn't been small.
He let himself fall backward, resting his back against the uneven wall of the cave, allowing his muscles to relax for the first time since the pursuit had begun.
Aether Core: [4/7]
Aether Fragments: [3478/4000]
Arthur stared at the numbers for several seconds.
He had been on the verge of obtaining his Tyrant core, and in this fight, he had ended up losing almost four hundred fragments… At this rate, Nephis had probably already surpassed him.
He clicked his tongue slightly.
The idea didn't bother him particularly… but it didn't please him either.
He closed the runes slowly and let his head rest against the cold rock behind him.
He sat there for a while, not bothering to measure the time.
Moments later, his breathing gradually stabilized, the flow of Aether returned to normal circulation, and the mild pain in his ears began to dissipate. The small dark spots that had appeared due to the extreme pressure also faded from his vision.
Even so, he wasn't in any condition to immediately face another fight of that intensity. And considering that there could very well be another tornado waiting for him outside… he wasn't in a hurry to return to the surface.
At that moment, he began to examine the cave. Strangely enough, it was quite illuminated for how deep it was.
With no other reason to pass the time, he decided to explore it.
He stood up slowly, noting that his body still felt slightly stiff—but functional.
He began advancing cautiously into the interior, pulling a torch from [Bound Vault] and lighting it easily.
The cave extended deeper than he had initially expected. The tunnel didn't seem entirely natural. Though the walls retained the irregularities typical of rock, there was a strange sense of continuity, as if the space had been shaped rather than formed solely by natural processes.
The silence was so profound that every small movement seemed amplified.
Arthur frowned slightly as he advanced.
Even in underground areas, there was always some ambient sound. Small air displacements or falling rock fragments. Indications of movement. But here, there was nothing. Not even the sensation that time was affecting the environment.
After several minutes of exploration, the tunnel finally opened into a much larger chamber.
Arthur stopped as soon as he crossed the entrance, remaining still for a few seconds, letting his perception adjust. Then he pulled out another torch, and the chamber began to reveal itself.
It was considerably larger than he had imagined.
The ceiling rose to an irregular height. Rock formations descended at gentle angles, as if the space had been shaped. The walls weren't completely smooth, but neither did they show the chaotic erosion typical of common caverns. There was a sense of order in the geometry of the place, a strange harmony in the distribution of space that suggested deliberate intervention.
The floor was surprisingly uniform, barely interrupted by slight natural irregularities that didn't seem to affect the terrain's stability. It was a preserved place. Protected.
The torchlight finally revealed the center of the chamber.
An altar stood at the heart of the space. Perfectly clean, without visible cracks or marks of erosion or use. As if it had been placed there recently… or preserved actively against the passage of time.
Arthur advanced one more step into the chamber, raising the torch slightly to better illuminate the structure.
The material of the altar didn't reflect light normally. It wasn't completely opaque, but neither did it show the rough texture of common stone.
Its surface seemed to absorb part of the illumination, creating the illusion that the object existed with a sharper definition than the rest of the environment.
His gaze slowly moved across the surface. He identified no visible symbols, nor were there unnecessary ornaments. It was a simple structure.
Behind the altar, embedded directly into the rock wall, was something square-shaped. It wasn't resting against the wall, nor had it been placed on a surface. It was part of the rock itself.
As if the stone had been molded around it… or as if the object had existed there before the cave took shape.
The instant Arthur saw it… he felt a familiar sensation. Though it was strange to call it familiar, he had definitely never felt anything like it—yet his soul reacted as if it already belonged to him.
As if a part of his existence had recognized the presence of that object before his mind could consciously process it.
A slight tension appeared in his chest. Subtle, but impossible to ignore, like something inside him wanted to get closer. Not out of curiosity, nor interest—but out of pure need. As if part of his being was incomplete… and that box represented a solution.
Arthur frowned, because now he did recognize the feeling. It was the same thing he had felt before entering the portal. The same thing he had felt the first moment he appeared at the Forgotten Shore…
'Here we go again.'
He advanced slowly, keeping the torch raised while his perception expanded cautiously around the altar. As he approached, the light revealed additional details on the floor.
Runes, carved with precision around the base of the structure.
Arthur stopped immediately upon seeing them.
There were few runes, but they were traced with precision. They didn't seem to form a complete ritual circle or a complex activation matrix, but rather a specific sequence of symbols placed with a very clear intention. Arthur observed them for several minutes, but he couldn't understand them. They didn't match any system he knew. Even so, they didn't seem random either; there was coherence in their structure, an internal logic indicating that each symbol had a well-defined purpose.
Before continuing his analysis, he decided to eat. He invoked [Bound Vault] and took out some meat along with a small set of spices, preparing it while still glancing at the runes out of the corner of his eye, as if at any moment some pattern would reveal itself on its own.
While he cooked and then ate, he tried to communicate with Sunny. However, the Memory they used for that purpose didn't have enough range. It was an Awakened-ranked Memory, and considering how strange distances—and even time—could be in this place, the connection simply didn't reach that far.
With nothing better to do for the moment, he continued observing the runes, searching for any detail he might have missed. He tried to identify repetitions, symmetries, any structure that could relate to systems he already knew. Nothing fit.
Eventually, he decided to rest.
The next day, he tried again.
First, he attempted to communicate with Sunny once more, but the result was the same. No response.
He then focused again on the runes, mentally reviewing all the types he knew: spell runes, ancient runes, formation symbols, arcane languages.
After a tedious and somewhat frustrating period, he decided to stop focusing on the runes for now and instead analyze the object embedded in the wall.
He activated Realmheart.
The flow of aether became visible to his perception immediately—and he noticed that the object was attracting aether. Not aggressively or unstably, but steadily, as if it had been specifically designed to receive it.
Arthur attempted to interact indirectly with the object.
Instead of touching it, he decided to alter the aether around it to observe how it responded. He activated Static Void in the object's vicinity, affecting the nearby flow with the intention of disrupting the pattern he had detected with Realmheart.
Nothing happened—and that was worse than if something had happened.
It didn't react in any visible way. It didn't activate, didn't change the rate at which it attracted aether, nor showed any sign of possessing a defensive mechanism. The flow continued exactly as before, constant and stable, as if Arthur's intervention had had no effect.
'How did Static Void not work!?' Arthur thought, now worried and even angry.
If the attribute had produced no effect, that left him with few immediate options.
With no results, he returned to the altar, clearly confused. The presence of the runes, the constant attraction of aether toward the box, and the total absence of response to Static Void were not good signs.
He decided to analyze the situation from another angle.
He closed his eyes and entered his Soul Sea.
Inside that space, surrounded by his purple sea and four cores of the same color, his attention immediately went to the runes floating in the sky of his consciousness: Realmheart, Static Void, and Destruction. He observed their structures carefully, trying to find similarities with the symbols he had seen before the altar.
He searched for repeated patterns, structural relationships, or any indication of connection that might help him understand the altar's runes. He found nothing. The structures didn't seem to share designs.
That forced him to broaden his focus.
Arthur began reviewing his attributes one by one, then his Aspect—both current and former—and any element that might be related to the Djinns or Aether.
Eventually, while reviewing his attributes once more, his attention stopped on one in particular.
[Djinn]
Description: [You are a descendant of the Djinn race, known as the People of Life. Your blood preserves that heritage as a natural affinity with the deeper laws of the world.]
Arthur had thought about the Djinn a few days ago, but now, with the box before him constantly attracting aether and with runes impossible to understand, the context had completely changed.
He began mentally noting everything he knew.
The Djinn were an extinct race. Their understanding of the world's fundamental laws had been considered dangerous enough to justify their eradication—and that had always been the strangest piece of information.
If they truly were a peaceful race, what could have led to their destruction?
Knowledge alone seemed an insufficient reason to provoke such an extreme reaction… unless that knowledge represented a direct threat. But there were many other ways.
Why didn't they try to have the Djinn explain how to use Aether and spare their lives?
Why didn't they simply absorb them into their citizens—or whatever they were—and maintain control over them?
Why choose to kill them?
Arthur wasn't naive enough to be swayed by the idea that they were a peaceful race. There are always exceptions to everything, and he knew perfectly well the capacity for Destruction that Aether possessed.
He had recently unlocked the first step of the Destruction rune himself.
Aether wasn't merely a source of creation or manipulation—it also had the potential to destroy absolutely everything. The description of his own Aspect Legacy made that clear.
So perhaps the clue lay there.
The Djinn might have been a peaceful race… but that didn't mean all of their members shared that stance at all times. If they were truly considered a threat, it was possible that some decided to defend themselves or resist.
That fit better with the extreme reaction they had provoked.
Even so, that conclusion didn't bring him any closer to understanding the runes before the altar. He still couldn't read them, still couldn't associate them with any known system—but perhaps that wasn't the point.
If these relics were created by Djinn… then perhaps they didn't need to be interpreted, but recognized.
What was the best way to recognize a relic created by Djinns and for Djinns? The answer was so obvious that Arthur couldn't believe how stupid he had been for not realizing it sooner.
Blood. The answer was blood.
Another clue was also in the description of the [Djinn] attribute.
"…Your blood preserves that heritage…"
His blood preserved that lineage. It was the way to verify and prove that he was a Djinn. And the method was simple. He just needed to demonstrate it.
At that moment, Arthur exited his Soul Sea and headed toward the altar. As he walked, Dawn's Ballad materialized in his hand.
Once standing before the altar, he raised the sword and cut his hand. The cut was deep, intended to draw a good amount of blood, since the density of Aether in the environment would close the wound before he finished.
He waited a few seconds, and the blood began to flow. Extending his hand, he let a couple of drops fall onto the altar—then directly pressed his palm against the surface.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, through his Aether Sense, he perceived the particles beginning to move wildly, abruptly changing the constant flow that had been running through the chamber.
It was as if it had recognized a signal it had been waiting for for millennia.
Moments later, he saw the object detach from the wall and float slightly toward him. Unconsciously, Arthur extended his hand—and at the slightest contact, the object became enveloped in white particles—like those of Memories—and these were absorbed into him.
At that moment, the spell spoke—and Arthur could have sworn it sounded almost pleased.
[The altar accepts the offering it was made to receive.]
[A will once carved into fate awaits its rightful inheritor.]
'WHAT THE FUCK?'
[You have received a Memory: Blood Armor.]
'I need to see the description NOW!'
Name: [Blood Armor]
Memory Rank: Sacred (Awaiting its rightful owner)
Memory Type: Armor
Description: ["This is a gift from me to myself. Advice: Do not use or bind it until you become a Master. Knowing myself, I'm sure you wanted to understand what the runes said, so I hope this answers at least some of your questions: 'Spill the blood of one who has harmed the blood of our blood.'"]
And below, it read:
[Bind the relic?]
Arthur swallowed hard and let himself sink to the ground, staring at the description and the rank. The only thought running through his head was the last part of the description: "Spill the blood of one who has harmed the blood of our blood."
'It wasn't asking for my Djinn blood… it w-as asking for m-my War God blood…'