Five hours later, Cyan's eyes opened, calm and focused, his eyelashes tainted with dust. The magnificent light of the torches attached to the walls welcomed him, and he sat up, his hand on his forehead, memories of the past battle flashing before his eyes. He twisted his head, surveying the chamber, searching for the minotaur. Ah, there it was - its electrified carcass, lying on the ground, a testament to his strength and determination.
A grin spread across his face as he stood tall, his chest heaving with exertion. "That's right, I killed that motherfucker and won," he thought to himself, a sense of pride swelling within him. He walked closer to the body, his leather boots echoing through the chamber, the sound of his footsteps like a drumbeat, marking his victory.
With a flick of his wrist, sparks of crimson lightning danced on his arm, and the short mid-ranged sword appeared in his palms. He gripped the unique designer hilt, the metal cool to the touch, the weight of it familiar, comforting.
The sound of his boots echoed through the chamber, a dramatic flare to his movements, as he reached the body and stabbed it, blood gushing everywhere like a faulty pipe. He kept stabbing, the blood getting on his clothes, the fabric slowly absorbing the red liquid. The air was thick with the scent of blood and death, a stark reminder of the battle's intensity.
Some of the blood flowed on the ground like a river, entering the cracks in the stone floor, the sound of it dripping onto the stone, like a metronome, marking the passage of time.
After opening a huge hole in the body, he placed his hand inside, his fingers moving through the flesh and insides of the minotaur. The warmth of its insides warmed his hand, and he pulled out a black stone that shone with a bright white hue, like a gem. The light of the torches danced across its surface, like a beacon in the darkness.
"I wonder what's going on?" he thought to himself, his eyes fixed on the gem in his hand, the stone shining like it was alive, the light of the torches casting an eerie glow on his face. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and smoke, and the distant sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, a slow and steady beat that seemed to match the pounding of his heart.
"Identified as a rune," Orion's voice whispered in his head, the sound like a digital whisper, devoid of emotion, yet laced with a hint of curiosity. "Rune classification: Arcane Core. Estimated function: amplification of magical energies."
"A rune? What does it do?" Cyan thought, lifting the stone towards a light source, the reflection casting a faded purple hue on the walls. "It's a stone that serves as a heart to rare unique monsters, giving them unlimited growth in strength. Break the one you currently own, and you will understand far better," Orion's voice explained, the words like a series of 1s and 0s, devoid of inflection.
"Break it?" Cyan's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with possibilities. After a few minutes of contemplation, he threw the stone as far away as he could, the stone shattering into hundreds of pieces on the wall, the sound echoing through the chamber like a crack of thunder.
Everything fell silent, leaving Cyan confused. "So is that it? But nothing happe-" Before he could finish, an ominous energy rose from the broken pieces, like black smoke, the air thick with an eerie energy. A moment of silence followed, the air heavy with anticipation.
Suddenly, a gust of red aura energy with a hint of black pulsed in the room, swirling like a tempest tornado, pushing Cyan back. The energy intensely headed towards him, its pressure flattening his hair, his tattered cloak flowing behind him like a black river. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and electricity, and the sound of crackling energy filled the air.
The energy started entering his body, engulfing him like cold flames, but nothing burned. Cyan felt lighter, as if he was a feather, the energy combining with every cell in his body, like a key fitting into a lock. The sound of his cells absorbing the energy was like a soft hum, filling the air.
As the energy dissipated, Cyan's eyes widened in amazement, his body glowing with an otherworldly light. Then, everything went silent, the energy gone, leaving him feeling... different. "What the hell was that?... and this feeling," he thought, looking at his body, his mind racing with questions.
"Notice: you've learned a new art registered by the name, 'Arcane edge' from the core," Orion's voice whispered in his head, the sound like a gentle notification, devoid of emotion. "Art description: Arcane edge allows the user to amplify magical energies, increasing damage output and reducing cooldown times. Would you like to access the art's details?"
"Yes. What does it mean.... More importantly, how to use it," he thought to himself, his hand on his chin in a gesture of thinking, his eyes narrowing, as he focused his mind. The sound of his breathing was like a soft whisper, filling the air, as he waited for guidance.
"Instructions: Considering it's a sword art, its sequence is mainly connected to the sword," Orion's voice spoke in his head, the words like a puzzle piece falling into place, as Cyan's mind began to piece together the clues. "The sword, huh?" he thought to himself, as he gazed at the mid-ranged sword in his hands, then closed his eyes in a calm demeanor, a gesture of absolute focus.
The air was thick with anticipation as he sat down, his eyes closed, his aura rings spinning with a terrifying velocity, like moving wheels attached to a moving vehicle. The sound of the rings spinning was like a soft hum, filling the air, as he focused his aura inside the sword. Suddenly, he felt a burst of energy in his hand, as he calmly opened his eyes, the light of the energy like a firework, exploding in his vision.
"Whoa!" he yelled in his mind, his eyes dazzled, the light of the energy like a supernova, filling his vision. "Congratulations, you've successfully activated the sword art Arcane edge," Orion's voice spoke in his head, the words like a triumphant cry, echoing through the chamber.
Cyan's sword burned, completely absorbed in the extreme fire, the color of red and black in unison, the flames dancing across the blade, like a living thing. The sound of the flames was cold and silent, filling the air, as the crimson light shone on his face and around him, creating a magnificent crimson hue, like a halo, surrounding his body.
The air was thick with an otherworldly energy, as if the very fabric of reality itself was bending to his will. Cyan's gaze was transfixed on the Arcane Edge sword, its crimson energy pulsating with a vital, almost sentient power, as if the very essence of the blade was alive and throbbing with an otherworldly potency.
The chamber was bathed in an eerie, crimson glow, the shadows cast by the flickering flames dancing across the walls like dark specters. The air was heavy with the acrid tang of ozone, a pungent reminder of the sword's raw energy, and the hint of black smoke wafting from the blade seemed to writhe like a living serpent, casting an eerie, crepuscular glow on the surrounding walls.
The atmosphere was alive with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the soft creak of Cyan's leather boots as he stood up, his movements unfolding with a fluid, almost feline precision. As he lunged towards the wall, the sword sliced through the air with a low, menacing hum, its trajectory a testament to Cyan's mastery of the blade.
The wall succumbed to the sword's fury, cracking like the delicate facets of a shattered crystal, the sound echoing through the air like a death knell. Dust and debris rained down, casting a golden, luminescent glow in the fading light, and tiny sparks of lightning danced across the fissures, like fireflies on a midsummer night, their ethereal glow imbuing the scene with an otherworldly beauty.
"This is sword art...on an entirely different level," Cyan thought to himself, his mind reeling with awe and wonder as he gazed at the burning sword. The sound of his own breathing was the only thing that broke the silence, a poignant reminder that he was indeed mortal, and not just a mere spectator to this display of raw power.
Orion's voice, devoid of emotion, stated, "Sword art activation successful. Arcane Edge protocol engaged." Cyan's eyes narrowed, his gaze lingering on the sword as he pondered Orion's words, the scent of hot metal and ozone filling his nostrils, a potent reminder of the sword's incredible potency.
"So this is Arcane Edge, huh? Just wish I knew more about it," he thought, his curiosity piqued like a flame dancing in the darkness. Orion's explanation was forthcoming, his voice steady and informative, like a computer terminal spitting out data. "Arcane Edge: a sword art that amplifies weapon attack prowess by 30 percent. Blade sharpness increased by a factor of three. Energy consumption: moderate."
Cyan's gaze never wavering, he deactivated the overwhelming crimson aura, and the blade returned to its normal state, the sound of sizzling energy fading into nothingness like a dying ember. "Noted," he murmured, his expression serene, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within him, like a tempest beneath a tranquil surface.
As Cyan gazed at the sword, a memory stirred, and recognition dawned on him like a ray of sunlight piercing through the clouds. The faint scent of old leather and worn wood wafted up, transporting him back to the day when Alaric gave him a free choice of a sword in the Burrell. "Isn't this the sword I picked up from Burrell? The one old man Alaric gave me?" he thought, his expression clouding with uncertainty like a veil shrouding the truth.
"Affirmative, this is the same sword," Orion replied, his voice flat and robotic. "Differences noted: sword is cleaner and more polished. Probability of optimal performance increased by 97.5 percent."
"I am not that good with numbers.... As long as it wasn't for nothing." he said