"That sword... something's off about it," Ethan called out immediately.
"What sword?" Oberlis queried. Following Ethan's gaze, he too caught sight of the longsword held by the skeleton, its faint luminescence seemingly the root of Rose's current affliction.
"Damn it!" Oberlis cursed.
"Oberlis, be cautious! Don't be rash!" But even as Ethan's words left his lips, Oberlis's silhouette vanished, only to reappear by the skeleton's side, grasping the sword in the skeletal grip.
A dense black mist erupted from the sword.
"Ahh!" A cry of agony escaped Oberlis, who promptly cast the blade to the ground.
Dark smog continuously billowed from the forsaken weapon.
However, rather than dispersing, the smog seemed sentient, amassing and thickening into an oppressive cloud that emanated an aura of decay and death, sending chills to the core.
