Beside the withered bones lay an ancient sword. No one knew how many years it had endured. Rust covered its surface, obscuring its original appearance and hiding its edge. Even the hilt had nearly rotted away; it looked as though it would shatter at the slightest touch.
At his sister's reminder, Long Ling's eyes lit up. He desperately needed a weapon right now. Before, he wouldn't have given the rusty old sword before him a second glance, but now he considered this decayed blade even more precious than his own spear.
He bent down and picked up the sword. The expected scene of it breaking at a touch never came. It felt heavy in his hand, and seemed remarkably sturdy.
With a thud, Long Ling slammed the sword against the ground with all his might. The blade didn't break; instead, the impact knocked a shower of rust from it. As the rust fell away, part of the sword's original appearance was revealed to the Long Ling siblings.
The blade was a deep green, and a cold glimmer shone faintly along its edge. Long Ling tested it with his finger. The blade easily cut his skin, but at least he didn't have to worry about getting tetanus...
Delighted, Long Ling said, "This sword must once have been extraordinary. Even time couldn't destroy it. Although this ship has sealed away all its divine properties, it must at least once have been an eighth-grade weapon. Finding it now gives us a little more to rely on."
"An eighth-grade weapon? I wonder how much of its power it still retains." The Eighth Princess was thrilled. Seeing Long Ling armed made her feel much safer, and she relaxed considerably.
Long Ling shook his head. "It can't really be called powerful. To put it plainly, it's