Holmes extended his finger, carefully hovering it above the blood-drop gem to avoid direct contact.
"I attempted to channel and store a technique called 'Blade Enchantment' recorded in the book of eibon, along with energy, into this gem."
"It is a type of magic designed to briefly imbue metal weapons with additional'Sharpness' and 'Anti-Evil' attributes."
"The process was quite... unstable, full of unknown variables."
A rare look of uncertainty appeared on Holmes's face.
"I successfully stored three such 'techniques'. When you grip the hilt, focus your mind on this gem, and silently recite the activation command—I will tell you the command later—it should be able to temporarily activate, attaching the stored energy to the blade."
"Theoretically, this might produce extra damage against certain... immaterial beings, or entities protected by special powers."
He paused, his grey eyes fixed directly on Watson.
"Of course, this is just theory; it hasn't been tested in real combat. The risks are unknown, the effects are unknown, and it might even trigger an unknown backlash from the gem itself. Unless absolutely necessary, it is best not to use it."
Watson looked down at the cane sword in his hand. The cold metallic sensation transmitted through his palm, and the blood-drop gem felt like a silent curse.
He thought of the Flesh Giant and the Bone-Claw Insectoid beneath the Theological Seminary. Fear still existed, but a stronger courage to protect his companion and face the unknown overwhelmed it.
He took a deep breath and gripped the hilt firmly.
"I understand."
Watson's voice regained its composure.
"I will use it well and record the 'test' results, Holmes."
He slowly pushed the rapier back into the cane sheath; the mechanism clicked softly again, restoring it to an unremarkable gentleman's cane.
But now, the feeling of holding it was completely different for Watson.
Holmes nodded slightly, expressing satisfaction with Watson's reaction.
Subsequently, like a highly efficient machine, he began moving rapidly throughout the room.
He walked to the laboratory bench and precisely picked out several small glass vials from a pile of chemical apparatus.
One contained swirling silver liquid; one was sealed with wax, containing an unknown powder; and another contained a murky green ointment.
He stuffed these small vials into the inner pockets of his trench coat.
Next, he rummaged through a stack of books and pulled out several ancient parchment scrolls tied with faded ribbons; these scrolls were also cleverly inserted into specially made, narrow pockets in the lining of his trench coat.
He also dug out a small brass compass from deep within a drawer; its needle did not point north or south but was engraved with dense astrological symbols. He also took out a uniquely shaped dagger and several packets of powder wrapped in oil paper.
Watson watched with his jaw dropped as Holmes's trench coat pockets, which seemed like a bottomless pit, continuously swallowed these strange items.
The trench coat remained crisp and slim-fitting, with no hint that it was already stuffed with enough equipment to open a small occult museum.
"All right."
Holmes finally adjusted his collar, ensuring all items were properly secured so they wouldn't make noise or fall out unexpectedly during action.
He once again pulled that antique pocket watch from his bosom; the brass casing gleamed dimly in the faint light, and the ticking sound seemed exceptionally loud in the silence.
The two stood in the clearing in the center of the living room that was rarely not submerged by books.
Holmes held the pocket watch flat in his palm, with the dial facing both of them.
He turned to Watson, his expression more serious than ever before.
"Watson."
Holmes's voice was low and clear.
"The world we are about to step into may be even more bizarre and dangerous than that time in Boston."
"Unknown laws, twisted existences—you have experienced them personally and know what that means."
"The risks of spatial displacement itself are also completely uncontrollable."
"Now, I ask you one more time: are you sure you still want to go? You may choose to stay; this is by no means cowardice, but a rational judgment."
Watson gripped the cane sword in his hand. Countless adventures experienced side-by-side with Holmes flashed through his mind—ordinary cases in the London fog, as well as horrors like Boston that overturned his perception.
Fear still coiled around his heart, but another, more powerful force—friendship, and the courage to never retreat in the face of evil—dispelled that fear.
He straightened his back, meeting Holmes's scrutinizing gaze, and even pulled the corner of his mouth into a slightly rugged, determined smile:
"Sherlock Holmes, when did you become so sentimental?"
Watson's voice was firm, carrying a teasing tone, yet full of determination.
"Last time in Boston, if I hadn't been there holding the front for you, could you have resolved that incident so cleanly?"
He raised the cane in his hand.
"Besides, someone has to help you 'test the sword' with this thing you went to such trouble to create, right? Expecting you to record the experimental data yourself? Don't joke."
"Don't waste time, let's start!"
Holmes gazed at the unyielding light in Watson's eyes. His serious, tense mouth seemed to soften for a moment, a trace of almost imperceptible relief and release flashing across it.
He said no more, just nodded heavily, all doubt in his eyes replaced by pure focus.
"Hold onto me."
Holmes gave a low shout, his thumb pressing hard on a hidden button on the pocket watch's crown.
Hum!
The pocket watch suddenly emitted a low hum, the brass color on the casing instantly becoming blinding, and immediately after, the rhythmic "ticking" sound suddenly accelerated!
The hands spun crazily, moving so fast they dragged out blurred golden afterimages on the dial, breaking free from the shackles of time.
The pocket watch vibrated violently in Holmes's palm, emitting a high-frequency hum.
Snap!
A crisp cracking sound rang out.
Under their fixed gazes, that antique pocket watch, bearing unknown power, disintegrated from the inside!
The sturdy brass casing, transparent watch glass, intricate gears, and mainspring... all the components that made it up shattered in an instant into countless tiny fragments shimmering with strange metallic luster!
These fragments did not scatter; instead, as if bound by an invisible force field, they instantly floated up, surrounding Holmes and Watson, who were standing in the center of the room, and began to spin at high speed!
The fragments spun faster and faster, forming an increasingly bright vortex of light composed of countless points of light.
Watson felt as if the floor beneath his feet was dissolving. An intense sense of weightlessness and dizziness washed over him. He gripped Holmes's arm tightly, his other hand clutching the shaft of the cane sword so hard his knuckles turned white.
Holmes, like a reef, allowed the energy storm to batter him. His hand supporting the core of the vortex remained as steady as a rock, his eyes fixed on the increasingly bright light that swallowed everything.
The light reached its peak, so blinding that Watson had to close his eyes.
Boom!!!
A massive roar exploded deep within his soul.
The intense light swallowed everything.
The light faded, and the living room was as it had been, only the figures of Holmes and Watson had already vanished.
...
There was no sensation of falling, no sound of wind, only an absolute void where existence itself was completely stripped away and forcibly reassembled.
Once again, Holmes felt his mind torn into billions of fragments, drifting in the gaps between time and space.
Only the "ticking" sound from the pocket watch in his palm, which seemed to act directly upon his soul, acted like an anchor, firmly pinning down his self-awareness that was on the verge of collapsing.
He did not know how much time had passed; perhaps it was an eternity, perhaps just an instant.
The cold, viscous sensation of weightlessness suddenly vanished.