Chapter 97: Weapon Spirit [1] (Fixed)
During the next couple of hours, Zich continued to hunt monsters, filling up his graveyard again.
As luck would have it, his Handband triggered again, causing another system screen to flash before his eyes.
[ Congratulations! A fortunate event has been successfully activated! ]
[ Weapon Spirit Vault discovered! ]
[ You have entered the Weapon Spirit Vault! ]
[ You are being observed by the weapon spirits within. ]
[ A slumbering weapon spirit has been awakened by your arrival. ]
[ You may choose a weapon spirit based on your affinity. ]
Suddenly, even before Zich could process the words, he vanished from the crypt and appeared somewhere else.
It was not a room. It was a void. A starry expanse that stretched in every direction, infinite and silent, like standing in the heart of the night sky. And floating in that void were weapons.
Swords. Axes. Spears. Staves. Scythes. Weapons of every shape and size, each one glowing with its own distinct light, red, blue, gold, silver, black. They drifted through the void like constellations, each one containing a presence. A spirit. Sleeping, waiting.
"The Weapon Spirit Vault..." Zich whispered. "What does that mean?"
As if answering his question, a system screen flashed before his eyes.
[ The Weapon Spirit Vault contains unique weapons that can be contacted. Living weapons that bond with a master and grow alongside them. ]
At this point, the mysteries of Ascension Mountain had ceased to amaze Zich, and he simply accepted them the way they were.
He closed his eyes.
The system had told him to choose based on his affinity. To feel it.
So he did. He let his senses extend outward, brushing against the lights around him. Cold. Warm. Angry. Peaceful. Violent. Gentle. Each weapon spirit had its own temperament, its own personality, its own voice in the silent void.
Then he felt something.
A light that was different from the others.
It was cold. Bitter cold, like the wind over a frozen battlefield. Like the chill that crept into your bones before death took you. But beneath that cold, there was something else. Something familiar.
Loyalty. The same kind of quiet, unshakable loyalty he had felt from the Elite Undead Knight. The same stubborn refusal to let go.
Zich reached for it.
"Is someone coming...?"
The voice was quiet. It sounded like it had been sleeping for a very, very long time.
"You... are you sure you want to choose me?"
A female voice that sounded surprised. Uncertain. Like she could not believe anyone would pick her.
Zich opened his eyes and looked at the light floating toward him. It was pale blue, like ghostfire, like the glow behind the Elite Undead Knight’s visor.
"Yeah," he said. "I’m sure."
"Then... let’s make an oath, Master."
Zich felt a sting in his palm. A drop of blood floated away from him, hovering between them, but it did not merge with the blue light. Instead, it remained suspended in the air, as if waiting for his decision.
"My name is Zich. I’d like to know yours first."
The ethereal voice answered, stronger now.
"My name is Frostgrave."
The pale blue light drifted closer.
"If you truly choose me, then we can form a contract."
Zich nodded, finding the name quite intresting. It sounded like a name he would give to a summon.
"Frostgrave, huh? Nice name."
"Thank you." Although he couldn’t realy see the speaker he could tell she was blushing.
Before he could say anything else, the void shuddered.
A low rumble rolled through the starry expanse.
One weapon after another began to glow.
A red sword trembled violently. A golden spear shot a beam of light into the darkness. A black staff let out a deep pulse that made the entire void feel heavier. Then, as if they had all been watching in silence and finally could not hold back anymore, dozens of weapon spirits awakened at once.
"Choose me."
"No, him."
"His blood fits mine."
"That scythe is too weak."
Zich frowned, caught off guard by the scene.
Several weapons surged toward him at once, their auras crashing together like storms. A flame blade appeared in front of his face, hot enough to sting his skin. A silver lance circled around him like it was measuring his worth. A jagged axe split the air with a furious roar.
Zich raised his head slowly. "Is this a test or something?"
The blue scythe light in his palm began to shake as the other spirits pushed forward, all of them trying to pull his attention away.
Zich gripped the haft tighter.
"Back off," he muttered.
A flame blade lunged first. A burst of heat swept toward him, but before it could touch his face, Frostgrave’s pale glow flared. A wall of freezing mist burst outward, meeting the fire in a violent hiss. Steam exploded across the void.
The silver lance followed, shooting straight for his chest.
Zich twisted aside, but the lance stopped an inch from him, trembling in midair as if held back by an invisible force. More weapons pressed in from every direction, their voices rising in sharp protest.
"He is mine."
"No, his soul calls to me."
"Unworthy."
Zich’s eyes narrowed. He could feel it now. The vault was not simply offering weapons. It was also judging him.
Then Frostgrave’s voice entered his mind again, calmer this time.
"Do not fear them. They are only trying to measure your resolve."
Zich exhaled slowly. He smiled faintly and lifted the scythe’s light higher.
"I am not here to be tested by all of you."
The void went still. Then, with one cold pulse from Frostgrave, the surrounding weapons recoiled at once, as if struck by an unseen command.
"If you want me," Zich said, "come one at a time. I’ll conduct what we call an interview. If you are fit for the role, then I’ll hire you."
For the first time, the weapon spirits fell silent.
...
Thanks to all those who support this webnovel with their valuable golden tickets I realy appriciate. This Chapter was initially suppose to drop few hours from now but because of the mistake I just have to upload it earlier.
The next Chapter would drop in a bit stay tune!
