Moments later, Lancet and Kestrel stood at opposite ends of the mountain top. Kestrel folded her arms.
"Show me your sword," she said.
Lancet reached into his inventory and retrieved the Radiant Guillotine. He held it out to her carefully, hilt first.
Kestrel accepted it with simplicity, making it obvious that she had handled better weapons than most people ever saw in their lives.
She turned the sword over in her hand, watching the balance, the edge, the length, the way the hilt sat against the palm, and even the slight shimmer of Grace still lingering in the metal from previous use.
After a few moments she handed it back to him with a flat expression.
"This is a sword built to unleash force," she said. "Not one built to refine a swordsman. It is the sort of weapon a cataclysmic knight would carry if he wanted to cause as much damage as possible."
Lancet glanced down at the blade, then back up at her. He could not exactly argue with that.
