XXIII

Swordsman

I prided myself in being an expert swordsman. I knew my weapon and it knew, in turn, me. We were one in the same.

This wasn't the same with everyone. Take Syzeal for instance, you could hear him yelling at his sword from miles away. Apparently, it was a "good for nothing, lazy and ugly hunk of metal".

Syzeal could no longer release his sword from that point.

How did he fix this?

He spread a compound on the blade that when in contact with saliva, dissolved metal, hence a release.

Yes, he was quite the swordsman indeed.