Stepping out of the stream, Rowan found it hard to even stare at the sword, its light so blinding. Instead, he focused on the decrepit skeleton in front of him, wondering how it had ended up in such a sorry state.
Walking closer, he noted how there were small scraps of cloth on the ground, likely the clothes of whoever the skeleton had been. Both of its hands were wrapped around the hilt of the sword, where there was clearly only space for one hand.
Looking around the room, there appeared to be nothing else, besides the stream which continued under another wall. Accepting that there was simply nothing else, his attention returned to the skeleton and its sword.
Rowan kept his eyes on the skeleton's hands and wrapped his own around them, prying the fingers off one by one. Whoever this had been, they had gripped the sword unbelievably hard. Indentations were on the skeleton's fingers, where it had been wrapped around the hilt of the sword.
As Rowan pried the last finger off the hilt, the light immediately vanished from the sword, plunging the room into a swath of darkness, aside from the faintest bit of light coming from the cavernous hall he had entered from.
Luckily, the sword was still embedded in the ground, and he found it again, his own fingers wrapping around the hilt, in place of where the bony fingers had been. Heaving upwards on the embedded sword, he felt it shift slightly as his muscles strained against it.
The hilt wasn't large enough for him to get a proper grip, yet he intertwined his fingers and pulled harder, grunting as the sword shifted, bit by bit. Gritting his teeth, he adjusted his hands and heaved upwards, with all of his strength.
Finally, the sword began sliding free from the earth's vice-like prison. It sprang free with the ringing of metal, as the blade entered the air vibrating from the sharp friction. Immediately, a hazy grey fog appeared in front of his eyes as the system returned.
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Claíomh Solais (Tier 1)
The Sword of Light glows in accordance with its wielder's will.
"From the hands of Nuadu to the hands of thou, may this sword endure."
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The fog faded as fast as it had came, whilst the sword began to emit a warm light, nothing like what the previous brilliance had been. To his surprise, despite how hard it had been to free it from the ground, the sword was light as a feather. And it sang through the air as Rowan swung it, the edge sharper than anything he had ever encountered.
'This is what an artefact can do? It's amazing… And this is only a Tier 1. I wonder how powerful they can truly become.'
Rowan held the blade aloft in front of his face, marvelling at how fine the edge appeared to be. He wished to run his fingers along the edge, but feared they would be severed with the slightest amount of pressure.
Rowan turned from the skeleton and crept through the tunnel he had made before, and continued his patrol as if he hadn't discovered an artefact perfect for their current situation. He swung it as he walked, overjoyed at how easily the blade responded to his movements, and at how little physical exertion he felt whilst using it.
He eventually returned to base, panting slightly despite the weight of the blade. He was still unfit and would need a great deal more physical training. Still happy despite his physical exertion, Rowan sat down at the doors of the base with a slight smile on his lips, before he noticed something that he had overlooked. Off to the side of the base, down one of the streets they had begun clearing, a shattered stalactite lay across the ground.
Looking up, Rowan could faintly discern where it had fallen from, the smallest gap between the other crystals. He shivered as he imagined what would have happened had he been beneath it as it fell. It likely would have torn straight through him, if not crushed him like a bug.
It seemed as though the end of the Hell was approaching faster than they had realised, if the cavern was actively collapsing around them. Rowan waited out in front of the base till morning, accustoming himself to the weight of the blade, and how differently it felt to swing it.
He also noticed that he could brighten the dim glow by focusing on it, explaining why the system had said it glowed with the wielder's will. Aoife was the first to step outside that morning, and she froze in shock at the sight of Rowan wielding what she immediately recognised as an artefact.
"How… Where… You didn't go near the tunnels, did you?"
She said the last part warily, likely worried that he had betrayed her trust and the safety of the team, but he instead calmly shook his head. Excited to show off his weapon, he completely forgot about the fallen stalactite.
"I got it from behind the rock wall that the stream came from. There was a skeleton holding this, and I just took it off of it. It's light as a feather and glows the more I focus on it. Pretty neat, right?"
It was indeed, pretty neat. At least Rowan thought so, while Aoife's brow seemed to narrow in thought. Finally, she sighed, moving her gaze from the sword to Rowan's eyes.
"If you're able to swing that well, then now is likely the best time."
The words caught Rowan off guard. He knew they were running out of time, but after the weeks in the Hell, he had expected that it would be another while before they left. Now she was talking about starting immediately?
'I guess I've grown too used to living here… but it's strange. I still don't see what makes it so hellish? I had expected countless running for our lives, but after the first day, nothing significant has happened. I could attribute it to Aoife, but it feels too easy. I hope this last fight doesn't prove me right... '
"We'll wait for the others to wake up, and then I'll tell everyone all about the tunnels."
Gripping his sword even tighter, Rowan nodded before following her back inside the base.
One way or another, their time in the Hell was coming to an end.