'The path to godhood?'
Not long did the message appear, before the Ironwraith completely obliterated the distance between them.
Its weapon shimmered with that corrupted energy as it descended from the air– cutting through layers of molecules in a surgical line.
Luca's pupils constricted, and his grip tightened on his new sword– a double-handed claymore.
His longsword was gone, replaced by what one could only describe as a work of master artisan craftsmanship.
It took the shape of a claymore which had a long, slender blade– though, thicker and wider than the normal ones. It reached the full extent of his height, stopping approximately at his shoulder length.
The blade was made of onyx marble, infused with golden tendrils that danced like fire over the blade, coating it with a natural, flame-like appearance. But those weren't flames, but ego.
