Raviel groaned as he pushed himself up, hands slipping slightly on the wet mess he had created. He spat another mouthful of the salty water, coughing hard until his chest and throat burned from expelling the leftover water.
And yet..... he laughed
A dry breathless laugh that reverberated inside his eardrums.
"Atleast....." *cough* he wheezed in between the laughs.
".. It's getting creative at trying to kill me"
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the bitter taste of salt and blood still clinging to his tongue and began walking.
The sound of his bare feet slapping against the cold white marble was strangely loud in the silence. The air also seemed to be mixed with dust as he sneezed everytime he came near a painting.
In front of him the walls were lined-up with paintings and ancient scriptures, some cracked and some wrinkled behind the glass enclosure. Gold frames half destroyed, and mural's whose faces had faded but still looked towards in his direction.
"Whoaa!..... it's gorgeous", he muttered dryly, brushing a strand of wet hair from his forehead. "Would've been a great tourist spot if not for everything trying to murder me."
Then he stopped around a small section of displays with numerous paintings preserved in them.
One particular display caught his eye.
A painting, framed in rusted bronze and sealed behind a glass. Unlike the artistic masterpieces around him that he couldn't understand. He understood this one almost too.....quickly as if his brilliant mind had itself painted the extraordinary piece of art.
It was absurdly simple: A large, perfect circle. Black on the pale canvas.
And yet the longer he looked, the more it felt wrong. It wasn't painted at all but it looked like it was burned into the fabric, edges of the canvas charred with slight burn marks, the color sinking into the canvas like they were spilled on it.
Raviel tilted his head.
"...."
"Really? a circle, you gotta be kidding me...."
He exhaled sharply through his nose and then squinted his eyes.
"Fuck you Pi...."
The sound of his footsteps echoed again as he began walking deeper into the exhibit.
His chest still ached, but his instincts were on high alert, because after all his experiences, he knew nothing was simple here.
He passed some ancient shields and fragments of broken armour with various shapes and sizes of colourful maps hung around the displays.
Then he entered the weapon's section.
The atmosphere shifted suddenly.
Here, the air felt heavier, every display seemed to watch his presence.
Spears, blades and axes with various other bizzare weapons sat behind the reinforced glass. Their sharp edges glimmering faintly in the faint light.
And in that——he saw it.
At the corner of the hall, behind a tall glass case stood a katana.
It's body was pitch black, smooth and reflective like polished obsidian, but what made it impossible to ignore were the faint red veins pulsing across its sheath in a steady rhythm, almost breathing, glowing in a rhythmic beat that perfectly matched a human heartbeat.
"Now that's more like it....." he muttered in awe.
He crouched and leaned forward slightly, reading the small silver-brownish plaque set beneath the display. The text was clean, engraved in 'Gothic' calligraphy.
And as his eyes traced the words, the faint thrum of the weapon deepened.
.
.
.
_______________________
● Artifact No. 0421 — "Kurotsume–Noctifer"
===============================
Discovered in the Kamikōchi valley. Believed to be a weapon from the Lost Era, estimated around 1187 L.E ( LOST ERA), though exact dating remains unconfirmed due to inconsistencies in mana-based carbon readings.
Gifted to Grandmaster Yamamoto Ryusei, a warrior hailed as the 'Black King', credited with the annihilation of over fifty-thousand Abysswalkers during the Fall of the Eastern Front and major contributor in the Battle of Extinction.
The weapon was named "Kurotsume" meaning "Black Claw", in memory of his companion, a cat said to have followed him into every battle even during his final moments.
Upon his death, the blade was passed to his apprentice, René Noctifer, whose name the weapon later inherited after his mysterious disappearance and death which was confirmed after the great war.
Today, the relic is known by its full title: Kurotsume-Noctifer, a symbol of two fallen legends. A teacher and student. Whose stories were buried with the age they came from.
"Until ...we meet again"
— Yamamoto Ryusei
______________________
Raviel's eyes skimmed over the words etched into the silver plaque. He didn't read it aloud, just let his gaze drift across the engraved lines about Abysswalkers, the Great War, and the fall of eastern front along with the 'war of extinction'. His pupils dilated from the sudden realization.
"What the hell…" he whispered, pulse quickening. "No—no way. This can't be—"
That's when he heard it.
A sound low and wet, rumbling from somewhere deep in the shadows behind him in the endless displays of various large and towering artifacts.
A growl.
Not the kind of growl animals make. This was heavier. Too guttural.
It carried hunger and bloodthirst in every vibration, like the air itself was trembling from its echo.
Raviel froze.
"..…Shit."