Chapter 28 — The Bloodbound Blade
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Everywhere was darkness and terrifying silence.
Nothing can heard not even small insects.
And admits this there was tent highly guarded with technology.
Inside that tent was a figure be seen .....sleeping.
After few hours the figure slightly move.
Cyrus opened his eyes.
His whole body was still and relax .
He slowly but in control move his body.
His body was fully recovered.
The potions had done their work during his eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
A full rest—exactly he as planned.
Around him, the detection signals he had planted were remained green mean silent.
The perimeter was untouched.
No fluctuation, no monsters, no dimensional ripples.
Cyrus (calmly muttering):
"Good. Nothing slipped past."
He rose from his bedroll, performed his morning stretches to fully activate his muscle.
Then he got out of the tent.
Outside he first inhale a deep breath relaxing his whole body.
Now he closed his eyes and start listening to everysound around even the lowest of low sound can mean Death.
After few minutes he opened his eyes and scanned the area.
Anything that can move was unknown so he scanned thirce and few more times.
After done checking he tap on his ring to check the needs.
Inside his dimensional storage, he checked his resources again — a habit drilled into him from years of ruthless survival:
10 teleportation devices (emergency escape).
Fully recharged potions.
Backup weaponry.
Dimensional anchors.
Enchanted ration packs.
Everything was in order.
But Cyrus wasn't planning to escape.
Not yet.
There was power here.
Artifacts.
Secrets.
Buffing items that could push him beyond his current limits.
And he wanted them.
Cyrus (cold and calculating):
"Survial is good"
But against face to face fight I need gears and mastery of them.
Then
With one final scan of the surroundings, he left the safety of his temporary camp and ventured deeper into the abyss.
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As he walked, the oppressive silence of this strange realm pressed on him.
Only his controlled footsteps echoed through the stone corridors.
He can here is heartbeat wide and clear.
He counted how many time his heart was beating .
The heart beat ...60 times per minute.
Cyrus ( clam tone)
.... Good.....
Hours passed.
His senses constantly scanned every corner, every ripple of energy, every faint sound.
Then — he stopped.
In front of him, resting upon a massive, cracked stone platform, was a sword.
Or at least, that's what it appeared at first.
A beautiful weapon — its blade shimmered with a mixture of red and deep blue hues.
But something was wrong.
As Cyrus carefully approached, his sharp eyes caught it:
The sword was not simply lying there.
It was pierced into a skull — a massive, grotesque head, filled with countless mouths.
Some mouths were frozen mid-scream.
Others appeared to be grinning.
A few were sealed shut.
The creature was long dead — but its very existence radiated an unsettling energy.
Cyrus (cold tone, eyes narrowed):
"It's not random. Someone killed this... thing. The blade pierced its skull directly.
There are no blade marks..... on its ..body
Only the skull has been pierced....
Hmmm..... So the skull is weak point of this
Creature.....
He circled the body slowly, scanning for hidden threats.
Traps.
Residual energy.
Ambush signals.
But the area was clear.
Still—he remained cautious.
Cyrus (thinking deeply):
"If there's one of these... there might be more."
After calculating the risks, he decided to retrieve the sword.
He slowly and still cautiously get closer to the sword.
With a firm grip on the hilt, he pulled.
The blade resisted at first, but then slid free from the bone with a sharp crack.
For a moment, it was quiet.
The sword felt... ordinary.
But just as he inspected the hilt—
Snap.
Small hidden spikes suddenly burst out from the handle — piercing into Cyrus' palm without warning.
Cyrus (gritting his teeth, low growl):
"Tch—!"
His blood dripped onto the blade.
The moment his blood touched the metal, the entire weapon pulsed.
The red hue grew brighter.
The blue dimmed slightly — almost as if the sword was drinking in his essence.
Then, everything went still again.
The spikes retracted automatically, leaving his hand marked by tiny punctures.
Cyrus (observing the blade calmly):
"Blood-activated. Parasite-class weapon."
He examined the sword carefully.
It seemed stable for now — not cursed, but bound.
Bound to him.
Cyrus (sighing lightly, cold tone):
"Very well. You're mine now."
He sheathed the blade carefully and returned to scanning his surroundings.
There was no time to waste.
Deeper dangers still lurked.
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Chapter 28End