'Since this sword acts like it carries an electric charge whenever someone touches the blade itself, I could tear off another piece of my jacket to wrap around the hilt. That way, I might be able to grasp it without getting shocked again. I don't know if this weapon is bound to some powerful being—someone who rules over strong people and species through their mana core. But even so, I can feel that this will work out if I think through every step carefully.'
He took a deep breath and put his plan into action. When he finally wrapped his hand around the handle and lifted the sword free, its weight nearly brought him to his knees. It felt as though he was holding hundreds of tons of solid steel, but a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins and gave him the strength to keep his grip. As he pulled it fully from the wall, the tip of the blade brushed against the stone floor with a sharp scrape. In that instant, a wave of raw power washed over him, and he felt as though an invisible shield had wrapped itself around his entire body.
No sooner had the sword left its resting place than the mansion began to crumble around him. Ceilings cracked and walls split apart as the building gave way to some unseen force. Maximus dropped into a crouch and held tight to the sword's handle, pressing himself low to the ground as debris rained down from above. The earth beneath his feet shook violently, as if multiple earthquakes were converging on this single spot. It felt like the very world was trembling at his feet—but every piece of falling stone, every splinter of wood that came crashing toward him, was thrown aside the moment it neared his body, deflected by the sword's protective aura.
The ground continued to shake as the mansion collapsed completely into a pile of rubble. Maximus squeezed his eyes shut tight, his whole body tensed against the chaos raging around him.
...
Then came a moment of silence.
It was a deep, still quiet—as if the world itself was holding its breath to observe what would happen next.
When Maximus finally opened his eyes, he found himself buried partially in the rubble but completely unharmed. Not a single scratch marred his skin, no injuries slowed his movements, and not even a speck of dust had managed to reach his face. Clearly, the sword had been the smartest discovery he could have made in that doomed building. It felt as though the weapon had not only shielded him from harm but had somehow held the weight of the collapsing mansion at bay, shifting its protective focus from the structure itself to the one who now wielded it.
He had never imagined such a thing could exist—a sword that defied all known concepts and bent reality to its will. Shaking off the last bits of dust from his clothes, Maximus stood up and began to drag the heavy blade by its handle as he pressed onward into the terrifying forest that stretched endlessly before him.
Without warning, an arrow came flying straight toward his chest. He had no time to dodge or react, but the sword's protection flared up instantly and knocked the projectile aside with effortless ease. It clattered to the ground a few feet away, its wooden shaft quivering slightly in the dirt.
Shock washed over him more strongly than surprise as he stared at the arrow lying there.
'There are other people in this forest? How?! How do they survive in this corrupted, disease-ridden terrain?'
He heard rustling all around him—bushes shifting and branches snapping as if countless figures were moving through the undergrowth to encircle him completely.
"Who are you guys?!"
He shouted out loud at the hidden attackers who had tried to kill him with their bows and arrows. As he glanced down at the fallen projectile, he noticed dark stains coating its tip—poison mixed with some kind of twisted fungi. He knew that even a small scratch from such a weapon would be fatal within days without proper treatment.
'These bastards are cruel...'
He was well aware that the sword kept him safe from harm, but he could sense the dozens of eyes fixed on him from every direction. When he looked up, he saw bows drawn and arrows aimed directly at his heart, ready to fly the moment he made a wrong move.
Then one figure stepped forward from the shadows. It was a woman with pale gray skin, walking barefoot over the rough, infected ground beneath her feet. Her ears were long and pointed, and her clothes were stitched together from the bark and fibers of the forest's twisted trees—a sight that made his stomach turn with discomfort.
Maximus spoke first, cutting her off before she could say a word.
"Who are you people?! And what the hell do you want with me?!"
The lady responded with a voice that was both gentle and steady, her hands raised in a calming gesture even though her expression remained serious and focused.
"We saw you as a threat. When we heard the massive crash of the mansion collapsing to the ground, we dark elves rushed to investigate. We were shocked beyond words to see a human being holding the Mighty Sword of Eia."
Maximus glanced down at the blade in his hand, then back up at her face.
"Mighty Sword of Eia? What is that—some kind of all-powerful weapon that I'm somehow supposed to handle? I don't even have a mana core! I shouldn't be able to touch something like this at all!"
A murmur ran through the circle of dark elves surrounding him. Every one of them looked flabbergasted and amazed—they had never seen anyone without a mana core wield the legendary blade before. To them, it could only mean one of two things: either some divine power was at work, or he had been chosen by the sword itself.
The lady's eyes widened with clear shock at his words, and she took a small step closer as she pressed for more information.
"State your name, human."
Maximus let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Why should I tell you anything? I don't even trust you guys!"
He raised his voice, letting his frustration and anger carry to every one of the hidden elves around him.
"You all showed up right after the mansion fell apart minutes ago! Is this sword your god? Or maybe it's the one thing you worship above everything else? Could that abandoned mansion have been your people's home once, years ago? I know you're all hiding something—something vicious that you don't want me to find out."
The lady paused for a moment, then clapped her hands twice in quick succession. At the signal, every dark elf lowered their bow and relaxed their stance, though their eyes never left him. She then stepped forward with a pleasant smile on her face, her voice warm and welcoming as she introduced herself properly.
"I see. You're a resilient fellow—that much is clear. My name is Ferha Hugma, and I am the princess of the dark elven tribes."