With a deep breath, Henry inhaled the raw mana in the air to sustain his body, rejuvenating his circuits and heart after Caelum had drained him completely to subdue the dwarves. The sword in his hands, now devoid of mana, seemed to humph in frustration, disappointed that it hadn't turned the enemies to ashes, mostly due to this new human stopping it.
Henry tried to convey his thoughts to the sword's spirit, attempting to appease it, but it wasn't open to any dialogue. From the fragmented inherited memories, Henry knew that the sword indeed had a spirit, much like the holy swords in legends. However, it seemed too weak to fully awaken, and its responses were almost at a deep subconscious level, like an entity lost in limbo. It seemed cliche, but the sword would only unlock if he had some level of strength. Hell, he couldn't even summon it by his own will.
