Azure scans the weapons, his gaze settling on a few that radiate prana—a faint, pulsing energy that seems to hum in rhythm with the room's silence. These are no ordinary weapons; they're forged for elite warriors.
But what truly catches his attention is the spear encased in a special glass-like container at the far end of the room. Its dark shaft gleams faintly, etched with intricate patterns that resemble flowing veins, and the spearhead shimmers with an otherworldly iridescence. The entire weapon exudes a commanding presence.
"Oh, this is good," Azure murmurs under his breath, stepping closer. He doesn't have any real fighting experience, but the spear art of Rion—engraved in his mind like an innate skill—calls to him. He knows if he trains, he can master it in no time.
He turns to Lysara, his decision made. "I'll take that one."
