The glowing light emitted by the horrifying sword responded to Zarathor's energy, shaking to life for the first time in eons. The thick rocky floor rumbled as if excited for the sword... or to be freed from its ominous presence.
Meanwhile, anticipation boiled into Zarathor's blood as his hand wrapped around the pommel. However, before his joy could fully settle, a buzzing noise echoed in the cave.
With a swift movement, he retrieved his numb arm and gazed at energy sparks dancing on the great sword with a frown. "Don't refuse me. I'm your only chance to leave this place!" He yelled, gritting his teeth and steeling his resolve. Then, he extended his arm to grab the pommel again.
Unfortunately, a surge of green fire erupted before his eyes, prompting him to step back by reflexe. "No! I won't leave without retrieving you!" He spat through clenched teeth, unwilling to give up. Yet, his eyes trembled in dread as they stared at the dancing flames.
