In the next moment, I approach the fallen sword, my footsteps purposeful and steady. As I reach down to grasp it, a vibrant glow emanates from the hilt, bathing my hands in a pulsating light. The sword trembles in my grip, resonating with a power that seems to recognize me.
"I know you are happy to meet me, but it will be more appropriate to hold the real you," I whisper to the sword, my voice filled with reverence. With careful intention, I drive the blade into the ground, its tip embedding firmly in the earth.
Roth and Avril descends gracefully to the ground beside me. Roth's gaze lingers on the sword, curiosity etched upon his features. "Why did you collect his sword?" he asks, his voice filled with intrigue.
"Because it's mine," I reply, a flicker of seriousness in my eyes. I offer no further explanation, my attention shifting toward Zamira, who stands nearby.
