` Somewhere something incredible was waiting to be known `
" Finally, I cant "
His eyes burned with a fierce blend of hate and rage as if he yearned to obliterate the source of his suffering. Though his body was weary, his soul remained restless. He rose and approached a massive stone, intricately carved with enigmatic words. It pulsed with a sinister energy, centered within a blood-red magic circle. With every step he took, the stone glowed brightly, beckoning him to acknowledge its presence.
This was the Ancient Obsidian pillar, a relic once entrusted to the most powerful dark sorcery mages. For years, it had remained dormant, waiting in vain for a new master to rise. But the man before it was different; the rune could feel its excitement swelling at the prospect of finding its rightful owner once more. The stone trembled, its light intensifying, as the magic circle struggled against the overwhelming force of its energy, ultimately shattering under the pressure.
With a confident smile, the man gazed at the rune and proclaimed, "I know you are hungry for power. For too long, you have hidden your thirst, but I am here to fulfill your deepest desires."
As he continued speaking, he asked firmly for final confirmation: "Will you embark on a journey with me?" The pillar started shaking as if waiting to give his approval.
The man picked the stone and made a cut on his hand by stone and folded his hands and the blood started to flow out of the cut, then he placed the hand on the pillar and chanted a spell as soon as the fire kissed the obsidian pillar, fire engulfed the stone activating the spell on the stone and the words appeared on it ` Conquer or Die ` and stone started to shake The man shifted back vigorously, and then a sound began to rise as the stone started to crack. Finally, it split in half. A sudden burst of dark energy emerged, and the stone shattered.
His eyes glimmered with awe as he beheld the enigmatic sword, its dark blade shimmering faintly in the light as if it were alive. It seemed to hum with an energy that drew him in, rejecting all others and offering him a grand, almost mischievous welcome. As he grasped the hilt, a surge of certainty washed over him—this was no ordinary weapon; it was Alestor.
The Dark Sword of Oath is a weapon of pure mystery and power, radiating an aura of dark energy that crackles like a storm contained within its blade. Its sleek black metal structure is sharp, ominous, and perfectly forged, exuding an ancient and otherworldly presence. The blade itself is adorned with glowing purple runes, pulsating with arcane magic, hinting at the sword's deep connection to forbidden power and unbreakable vows.
The hilt is made of elegant black metal, featuring sharp designs that evoke the wings of a shadowy beast. Wrapped in dark material, the grip allows only the chosen wielder to handle it without being overwhelmed by its power. At the top, a glowing gemstone or enchanted crystal acts as a conduit for the sword's energy. It does not merely cut flesh; it severs souls and destinies, binding those who wield it to an eternal oath—one that cannot be broken without dire consequences.
With its ancient power coursing through him, he understood that this sword was a harbinger of vengeance, bestowing unmatched strength upon its chosen wielder. Yet, like a tempest brewing on the horizon, it demanded a solemn promise in return—a vow that bore the weight of his very life, a commitment that could not be broken without dire consequence.
The sword pulsed ominously, drawing in everything around it like a black hole. Its voice boomed, echoing with authority, "You know of my existence; now you must understand this: nothing comes without a cost! You will pay a price for your curiosity, and mark my words—it will demand your very life if the promise is fulfilled!"
The man spoke with a fierce determination in his eyes, his voice steady and unwavering. "I understand completely," he declared, a hint of desperation lacing his words. "If it comes down to it, I would willingly offer my very soul as the price. Just grant me the power I seek." His tone carried the weight of his conviction as if he believed that with that power, he could conquer anything that lay before him..