After a while, Gern sent Lipo and Tesoro off to wash up. As their footsteps faded into the distance, he was left alone in the pavilion.
He fell silent for a moment, his gaze settling on the Black Blade: Eight Desolations resting against the stone table.
The blade was still wrapped in grayish-white bandages, but the cloth now looked old and weathered.
It was as though they hadn't been changed in ages, giving the wrapped Eight Desolations the air of something that had endured a thousand years of wind and frost.
Gern remained silent for a while, then sighed softly and reached for the hilt.
Hum- The blade trembled, and the bandages abruptly disintegrated!
From hilt to tip, the white cloth peeled away in a spiral as though alive, turning into countless grayish-white fragments suspended in the air.
Arcs of High-Frequency Vibration flickered along the edges of every scrap, as though an invisible force were tearing them apart and reassembling them.
"There's no problem releasing it, but why does it..." Gern frowned deeply and silently willed, Return.
The next instant, something strange happened!
The scattered bandage fragments reversed course on their own, gathering back together as though time were running backward.
The shrill sound of tearing cloth echoed through the pavilion. The grayish-white strips wound around the blade like snakes until it was completely covered.
At last, Eight Desolations returned to its original, weathered appearance. The light between the cracks went out, and the blade fell still.
Gern stared at the Black Blade in his hand, his grip tightening slightly.
"It seals itself."
A hot summer breeze swept through the pavilion as Gern stared at the Black Blade: Eight Desolations in his hand, his brow furrowed.
The bandages on the blade quivered as though alive, their grayish-white fragments gleaming