Victor's door creaked just before it slammed itself behind him. The noise of it slamming made him flinch a little because of the pair of sensitive ears he had on his head. His black hair was disorganized like that of a mad man and the stench of old paper just couldn't wear off him.
It had been a long day after his meeting with Lydia. He had spent the rest of it reading about swordsmanship, and swords connecting to the main root of swordsmanship, the techniques that were used when wielding them, and most importantly when those techniques were invented. He believed that Lydia's sword was connected to the great swordsmen but nothing in the entire Library said a single thing about a black blade with steel that shows no reflection.
He threw himself on the well-laid bed in the room. He was tired, and his eye felt even heavier each time he tried to keep it open.
