Chapter 407 - 391: Bright Moon

Chapter 407: Chapter 391: Bright Moon

"Is this... a Secret Silver Longsword?"

Staring at his "old friend," which was floating in the air with its form completely transformed, Roland couldn’t hide the astonishment in his eyes.

The Longsword was now a far cry from the simple and unadorned appearance he remembered, as if a soul that had slept for a thousand years had been awakened within it.

"Now that’s what I call magnificent!"

Though he didn’t know the details of the contract Roland had made with the ancient being, Duraga, who had witnessed the Longsword’s transformation, excitedly nudged Roland’s side with his Arm Armor and let out a sharp whistle. Then, he puffed out his chest, his rough voice filled with pride.

"What do you think, Rudolph? My craftsmanship back in the day wasn’t half bad, was it?"

He stroked his thick beard, and his eyes, as wide as copper bells, gleamed with the light of reminiscence.

"But to be honest, I really have to thank you for introducing me to that human Mage."

"If he hadn’t helped me get that top-tier forge with an Earth Vein Furnace, I’d never have been able to forge this ’little beauty’ so perfectly!"

Before Duraga could finish speaking, the Secret Silver Longsword floating in the air seemed to sense something. It spun gracefully and settled smoothly into Roland’s outstretched palm.

Roland held the transformed Longsword in both hands, his fingertips clearly feeling a faint pulse coming from the blade.

He stared at the ancient inscriptions flowing across the pale silver blade and began to read them aloud involuntarily, his low voice echoing in the silent cave.

"By the Wind Spirit’s lead, shake the roaring mountains to silence."

"In the hour when star and moon grow dim, tear asunder the ancient pact."

"Awaken the slumbering spirit, reshape the form of old."

"When the threads of fate entwine, witness the final dawn."

"And thus..."

As Roland recited the words, the Secret Silver Longsword began to change.

The golden line running down the center of the blade suddenly lit up, and immense Energy surged within it.

Countless tiny golden motes of light emerged from the void, gathering toward the blade as if summoned.

The blue gem on the hilt burst with a dazzling light. The starry sky sealed within it seemed to come alive, its starlight flowing endlessly.

The entire Longsword began to vibrate at a high frequency, emitting a clear, resonant hum like a dragon’s cry.

A visible vortex of Energy formed at the tip of the sword, and a suffocating pressure filled the air, as if it were about to unleash a world-destroying impact at any moment.

"Stop! Human, what are you doing!"

The great beast’s panicked voice exploded in Roland’s mind like a clap of thunder.

For the first time, the giant eye revealed clear Fear, and even the surrounding Darkness began to ripple violently.

Roland also realized something was wrong and immediately stopped chanting.

He suppressed the shock in his heart and quickly looked toward the end of the inscription.

There, a line of small words was clearly engraved.

"Crystal Calendar 491, Bright Moon, Rudolph."

’Year 491... which means... in six years, Rudolph will go to fight the Eye of the Abyss...’

Roland’s fingertips gently brushed across the blade.

The familiar touch of Mithril remained, but he could clearly sense that it was now mixed with some unidentifiable mineral fragments.

These unknown impurities were scattered throughout the sword’s body like stars, and it was they that had completely changed the Longsword’s nature.

Staring at the flowing inscriptions and recalling the terrifying Energy that had surged within the blade just moments ago, Roland understood.

This treasured sword named "Bright Moon" had surely undergone an Enchantment process far beyond the ordinary.

Even with his current skill in Enchantment, he couldn’t begin to comprehend how it had been achieved.

The technique of sealing such immense Power within a blade, while allowing it to resonate with its user, was nothing short of a miracle.

"The pact is made, human. Now, leave my domain."

The great beast’s voice sounded again, jolting Roland from his thoughts.

Its voice held a suppressed impatience, yet also a faint, almost imperceptible apprehension.

"We’re leaving now."

Roland looked up and replied calmly.

"But first, we need to start this Shell Ship."

A low, deep rumble, like the grinding of rocks, came from the Darkness—the great beast’s displeased growl.

Its enormous eye lingered on the Longsword in Roland’s hand for a moment before finally, slowly, retreating into the deeper Darkness.

"...Be quick about it."

With that final, warning-laced whisper, the immense pressure began to recede rapidly.

Not only the giant eye, but also all the remaining Bottom-dwelling Demon Fish, retreated like a tide into the Shadows at the back of the cave, vanishing without a trace.

In an instant, the vast underground cavern fell back into a dead silence.

Only the faint blue glow from the surrounding crystals and the wreckage-strewn battlefield proved that the heart-pounding encounter had ever happened.

Seeing the suffocating pressure finally disappear into the Darkness, Duraga let out a long, held breath, his tense muscles at last relaxing.

He clapped Roland heavily on the shoulder, his voice hoarse with the strain of having survived.

"Hey, old friend... You saved my hide again."

Roland pulled his gaze back from the Darkness where the great beast had vanished, sheathed the reforged "Bright Moon" with a reverse grip, and shook his head.

"This isn’t the time for that. That thing retreated without hesitation, but its intentions are hard to guess. We shouldn’t linger here. We have to leave immediately."

"You’re right."

Duraga’s expression turned serious, in complete agreement.

He then turned to face the Shell Ship, which had lain dormant for countless ages, and a faint glow emanated from the Iron Glove on his right hand.

After walking up to the ship’s hull, the Gray Dwarf leader pressed his gloved right hand against an area where the texture of the shell was slightly different from the rest.

As he began to chant a low, guttural Spell, the Runes on the Iron Glove lit up one by one, creating a resonant shimmer with the Shell Ship’s pale hull.

At first, only the small area his palm touched rippled with light. But soon, like a pebble dropped into a lake, the glow spread rapidly along the nerve-like patterns on the ship’s surface.

The entire underground cavern was illuminated by a cold, pulsating glow of Spiritual Energy.

The massive hull began to emit a low hum, as if a slumbering behemoth was slowly awakening.

Several large crystals embedded in the hull lit up in succession, projecting beams of light that intertwined in the air to form complex, shifting patterns.

"VMMMMMM!"

A deep, sonorous reverberation echoed from within the ship.

With this sound, the light surrounding the Shell Ship stabilized.

An invisible Force Field seemed to have been reactivated, causing its massive body to levitate slightly, breaking free from the rock strata it had been fused to for a thousand years.

Duraga pulled back his right hand and looked back at Roland, the corner of his mouth, hidden beneath his beard, pulling into a smile of exhaustion and accomplishment.

"Alright, old friend. This big ship... is ours."

Watching Duraga so easily awaken this creation of the Star Realm, which had slumbered for a thousand years, Roland couldn’t help but look surprised.

"Starting it... was that simple?"

"Simple?"

Hearing this, Duraga let out a rough chuckle and tapped the Iron Glove on his right hand.

"Old friend, it’s anything but simple."

"We Gray Dwarves endured ten whole centuries of enslavement just to gain the ability to read the writing of these Otherworld bastards. Then we spent another hundred years of blood and tears experimenting just to figure out how to ’talk’ to their creations."

A shadow passed over his scarred face.

"This seemingly simple touch is backed by a path paved with the bones of countless of our kin."

As he spoke, he turned to the Shell Ship and uttered a series of short syllables.

Following his command, the faint sound of machinery whirring came from the side of the hull.

The next moment, a section of the shell slid open, and a staircase woven from some kind of glowing fibers, resembling living tissue, descended from within, landing silently before the two of them.

"Come on."

Duraga nodded his head toward the stairs.

"It’s time to leave this godforsaken place."

Roland nodded, his curious gaze sweeping over the biomechanical-looking entrance as he prepared to step onto the glowing stairs.

Just then, his heart gave a sudden, powerful thump.

It wasn’t from fear or excitement, but a strange, utterly unfamiliar pulse that seemed to come from a distant place.

The feeling was fleeting, like a small pebble dropped into a calm lake, stirring only an imperceptible ripple, yet it made him involuntarily pause.

He subconsciously raised a hand to his chest, frowning slightly.

Though the sudden strange sensation caused no discomfort, it left an indescribable sense of dissonance in his heart.

Before Roland could process that fleeting oddity, the strange pulse came again.

This time, it wasn’t gentle. Like a fierce undercurrent suddenly surging to the surface of a calm lake, it manifested as a slight, stinging pain in his chest.

The sensation was extremely brief; if not for his keen Perception, he might have dismissed it as an illusion.

Roland frowned, trying to pinpoint the source of this inexplicable sensation.

Just as he was concentrating, a line of cold, golden text silently materialized in the center of his vision.

[Acquired Trait: Destiny Red String]