Chapter 406 - 390: Glory Reborn

Chapter 406: Chapter 390: Glory Reborn

"Over a thousand years..."

With the groundwork laid by Duraga’s earlier account, most of Roland’s confusion vanished when these words, heavy with the weight of ages, rang out once more.

’It seems another being has mistaken me for Rudolph.’

A headache throbbed in Roland’s temples as he thought about the man—a figure he still couldn’t be sure was a past version of himself or an ancestor of his current body.

He turned to Duraga, who stood beside him, every muscle tensed and on high alert, and asked in a low voice.

"Duraga, this... behemoth claims to know me. Do you have any idea why?"

The Bottom-dwelling Demon Fish and the Gray Dwarves both dwelled deep within the earth. Given that, and Duraga’s earlier reaction—which was clearly not that of someone facing such an ancient creature for the first time—Roland speculated the knowledgeable leader might have some information.

However, Duraga’s reaction surprised him.

The Gray Dwarf leader remained on guard, his gaze fixed on the distant giant eye as he asked back in confusion.

"It knows you? Rudolph... you were just communicating with it?"

Roland had just nodded, but before he could speak, the ancient voice thundered directly in his mind once more. It carried a hint of anger at not being answered, as well as... a certain, undeniable recoil.

"Answer me, human..."

Flames of anger clearly ignited within the enormous eye, yet its massive silhouette shrank back slightly, as if instinctively trying to pull away.

"My people and I have honored our pact with you. For a thousand years, we have not set foot on the surface... Why have you come today to wipe us out?"

Though the voice was a chaotic swirl of Echoes, Roland still clearly detected a trace of...

Fear.

’This monster... it seems to be afraid of me?’

Realizing this, Roland narrowed his eyes and cautiously replied in his mind.

"We did not come to start a conflict. It was your people who attacked first."

Hearing this explanation, the giant eye’s tension seemed to ease somewhat.

"Then... what is your purpose in returning to this place? Could it be because of..."

The giant eye’s gaze slowly moved, finally landing on the Secret Silver Longsword in Roland’s hand.

"My people’s Sacred Artifact has been damaged... Are you here seeking to have it repaired? Unfortunately, I lack that power."

’Sacred Artifact?’

Noticing where the behemoth’s gaze landed, Roland’s fingers unconsciously stroked the hilt of his sword.

He recalled Duraga’s earlier story.

"Rudolph" had ventured deep underground to find something to save a companion’s life. Duraga had then used that "thing" to forge the companion’s soul into the sword’s blade.

’So it seems that the ’Rudolph’ of the past got the so-called Sacred Artifact from this behemoth. Duraga then used it to forge this Secret Silver Longsword, preserving his companion’s existence within it?’

Just as Roland was piecing things together, the behemoth’s voice rang out once more.

"Though I cannot repair the Sacred Artifact, I can help you release some of the seals on the sword, allowing it to reclaim a sliver of its former glory. The condition is..."

The voice echoing in his mind suddenly grew urgent, laced with an unmistakable eagerness.

"Human, I want you to leave this place as soon as possible, and... never appear before me again."

Roland had no reason to refuse the behemoth’s condition.

They had come deep into the earth in search of the Shell Ship; they had no intention of starting a needless fight.

As for asking this ancient being about "Rudolph’s" past...

Judging from the other’s unconcealable hostility, there was clearly a deep-seated grudge between it and Rudolph.

Were it not wary of the "imposter" Rudolph before it, the creature would have likely attacked already.

And this behemoth’s true power...

Though its true form remained hidden in the profound Darkness, only a part of its silhouette was visible.

But the massive, mountain-like body, glimpsed only intermittently, was enough to speak of its terrifying Power.

Even if the real Rudolph had been able to subdue it, the Roland of today was no legendary hero.

To avoid complications, he rationally suppressed the urge to press for more answers. He simply gave a slight nod and replied in a low voice.

"Very well. However..."

He raised his hand and patted the shell of the silent Shell Ship behind him.

"We have to take it with us."

"As you wish, human."

The enormous eye drifted slowly upward, as if its colossal body, hidden in the Darkness, was rising from a crouch to a standing posture, creating a wave of silent pressure.

"Then, the pact... is made."

As the ancient being’s words fell, a faint yet pure, milky-white radiance seeped out from the endless Darkness.

As if it had a life of its own, it precisely enveloped the Secret Silver Longsword in Roland’s hand.

At first, the blade merely hummed softly, but in the next instant, a startling transformation began.

The Secret Silver Longsword tore itself from his grasp and hovered silently in midair.

In an instant, the air in the entire underground cavern seemed to freeze.

Countless tiny air currents began to swirl slowly around the Longsword, lifting fine dust from the ground and tracing visible paths through the air.

These currents grew faster and denser, eventually forming a miniature whirlwind surrounding the Longsword.

The whirlwind did not rage randomly, but carried a strange rhythm, as if performing an ancient ballad.

And at the center of this vortex, the Longsword was undergoing a fundamental transformation.

The once-inscrutable runes on the blade seemed to awaken, each character igniting in succession, awash in a silvery glow.

These words were no longer static engravings, but flowed slowly across the blade’s surface, like a river of stars swirling within.

At the same time, the Longsword’s form was undergoing a dramatic metamorphosis.

It was as if a soul had been breathed into the once-plain blade. It lengthened and widened from the hilt, taking on a more slender, elegant form. Its edges swept into fluid, razor-sharp curves.

Its original, uniform silver-white sheen was replaced by a deeper, ashen silver that seemed to hold starlight within.

Down the center of the blade, a slender, golden band of light extended from the crossguard to the tip, pulsing faintly like a breath—a sacred vein trapped within the steel.

The most significant change was to the sword’s handguard.

No longer a simple crossguard, it now swept outward, taking the form of the gently folded wings of some ancient creature, its lines exuding both power and grace.

In the very center of the wing-shaped guard, a blue gem materialized. It was like a miniature, condensed galaxy, a liquid brilliance swirling slowly within its depths.

The sword no longer radiated mere sharpness; it now emanated a solemnity and mystery that hailed from a distant, forgotten age.

It was as if this was no mere object, but a noble, long-slumbering being that had, at this very moment, finally awakened.