The room at the End of the Great Road was unexpectedly empty, with only an unremarkable wooden treasure chest sitting alone in the center.
"That's it?" Bernahl raised an eyebrow and tightened his grip on his sword. "I thought there'd at least be a few traps."
Tarnished walked forward without hesitation. The defective Mimic Tears along the way had indeed caused them some trouble-silver droplets had seeped from the walls, gathered into humanoid shapes, and lunged at them with crude weapons. But Ashmi had merely extended a thin strand of silver fluid from Tarnished's body, and the defective specimens had abruptly frozen, then knelt in unison, like subjects before their Lord.
"They retained their basic instinct to obey." Ashmi's voice rang in Tarnished's mind, cheerful and proud. "I'm the most perfect completed specimen. I naturally hold sway over them."
Now Tarnished stopped before the chest, took a deep breath, and lifted its lid.
There was no brilliant radiance, no wondrous spectacle. An oddly shaped weapon lay quietly inside-it was dark all over, its blade curved like a hook and covered in spiral patterns. Its material was neither metal nor stone; it looked more like the bones or shell of some creature. Dense ancient writing was carved into its hilt, and it gave off a faint chill.
"This is... the Fingerslayer Blade?" Millicent leaned closer to examine it, her brow faintly furrowed. "It's plainer than I imagined."
Tarnished reached out and grasped the hilt. For an instant, he felt a slight sting in his palm, as though the blade were probing his blood and soul. But a few seconds later, the sting faded, and the weapon rested quietly in his hand, impossibly light.
"We've got it." Tarnished turned and showed everyone the Fingerslayer Blade.
Blaidd breathed a sigh of relief, finally