"That… is my katana. My prized possession," the Demon King answered.
Kael took it out of the box. "Interesting."
Then he pulled it from its sheath, holding the katana in his hand, kind of disappointed.
The blade was long and thin—but sharp.
The bottom half was pure black, like it had been dipped in shadow.
But the edge—
The edge was silver, glowing like moonlight. As if it was made from the essence of the moon.
It was bright.
The silver stopped halfway up the blade, where the rest turned fully black.
He looked at the sword. "That's it?" he asked.
The sword was fancy—cool—but it was missing something. A purpose.
"Child, this is the strongest sword out there," the Demon King replied, sounding upset.
"Not even close," Kael muttered, turning the blade in his hand. "I've seen sharper spoons."
He looked up, eyes flat. "No wonder you lost to those losers."
"You dare mock the Demon King?" His voice now had a sharp anger to it.
