Dakrea lowered the sword, the dark energy swirling around it dissipating like smoke. He looked at the shopkeeper, a wry smile on his face. "It seems not," he replied, his voice still tinged with the echoes of his encounter with the Demon King.
Ulyana and Artyom rushed to his side, their faces filled with concern. "Dakrea, are you okay?" Ulyana asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"I'm fine," he assured her, his smile widening. "Just a little... soul-searching, I guess."
He turned to the shopkeeper, his gaze steady. "So, about that deal..."
The shopkeeper, still recovering from his shock, nodded slowly. "Indeed," he said, his voice filled with newfound respect. "The Shadowreaver is yours, young man. For 200 silver coins."
