"Fine sword!" Seeing the effect of the burly paladin's strike, the accompanying mage could not help praising it, and everyone else followed suit.
They had all seen it clearly: when the sword struck the stone, a faint cold gleam flashed along its edge before it sliced straight in. This was neither mere hardness and sharpness, nor the sort of sharpness gained by channeling battle aura into it. Rather, it seemed to amplify the power of battle aura itself.
For a moderately capable fighter like this paladin, such a sword was the most suitable. It did not flaunt its brilliance in ordinary times, yet when truly needed, it possessed incomparable power. It could only be called perfect.
Of course, obtaining a sword like this was exceedingly difficult. A sword capable of effectively enhancing battle aura without seeming especially sharp under normal circumstances required highly unusual materials, as well as extremely sophisticated craftsmanship. Generally speaking, only the children of legendary experts might receive such a weapon through the favor of their elders.
Weapons like this had a very common name: "family heirloom." It meant that a father could pass it to his son, the son to his grandson; it would not easily attract thieves, yet could prove immensely useful at a critical moment.
This paladin had already made up his mind as well. If his child turned out well, he would pass this sword down to him someday. If not, then he would give it to an up-and-coming talent among the next generation of paladins in the church. No matter what, he would never let it gather dust, nor sleep forever beneath the earth alongside him.
A fine sword like this ought to bloom with radiance in battle!
He smiled, pulled the sword free from the stone, carefully wiped it down, then