The Feathered Serpent's massive form, like an ominous dark cloud, silently slipped into the dense forest ahead, so thick it was nearly black, vanishing behind layer upon layer of giant leaves and vines.
The speedboat hurriedly docked at the nearest riverbank, and everyone leaped onto the soft mud. A narrow path, trampled into existence, wound its way deep into the forest.
Finn looked around, then suddenly seemed to notice something. He shouted, "Wait! This path... and that crooked tree... don't they look familiar? Isn't this the road leading to the abandoned village where we camped?"
"Nibelungen and reality often overlap. Its entrance is usually hidden at the coordinates of the real world," Arjun said gravely, his sharp gaze sweeping across the nearly identical surroundings... the river channel, the trees, even the arrangement of the rocks. "This scenery is a reflection of the outside world—or rather... a frozen slice of it."
No longer hesitating, he placed the ancient sword case he had been carrying on the ground and snapped open its clasp. Inside lay a longsword, its blade slender and restrained in its lustrous sheen. Near the guard were seven dark marks resembling starlight.
Arjun solemnly removed it and slid it into an old leather scabbard he had prepared beforehand. Then, in an extremely traditional manner, he securely strapped the sheathed sword to his back.
Amon quietly watched this series of movements. His gaze lingered briefly on the sword, which was at least three feet long, and on the way Arjun carried it. Combined with the man's title of "Sword Immortal," he had already formed a rough guess.
Carrying such a long sword on one's back made it difficult to draw quickly in an emergency, making it highly inconvenient on a battlefield where instantaneous reactions were needed.
Unless... his Spirit Word