What better way to inform than through demonstration? Besides, two things had been weighing heavily on his mind during their respite.

  First, he was itching to uncover Windslayer's true mystical aspects. His transparent sword was bound to be his main weapon in the battles ahead, they would be spending a lot of time together—after all, Windslayer had a trait of coming back despite the distance between them. But the sword was more than just a weapon; it was a relic, a mystical artifact likely holding secrets he had yet to grasp. The possibilities were tantalizing, and his curiosity burned. Surely, relying solely on trial and error to discover its capabilities would take far too long. That said, the ring might also fail to give him the satisfactory information about his relic. However, there's only one way to find out.

  Running out of patience, Kai rose to his feet and willed the ring to display his status. His gaze landed on the section labeled "Relic", sparing it a brief glance. The description was unsurprising, though phrased differently than he expected. Still, it conveyed the same essence of what he already understood about relics.

  Without hesitation, he focused on the term [Windslayer]. As the details materialized before him, he froze, his eyes narrowing in curiosity.

  The information that appeared wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it still caused him to pause.

  [Windslayer]

  Relic's Description: Forged of mystical steel devoid of logic, an impossible blade made to be forever loyal to its wielder.

  He frowned, finding the description vague and oddly cryptic. The phrase "an impossible blade forged of illogical steel" sounded more like poetic nonsense than a practical explanation. Comprehending its underlying meaning seemed like a fool's errand, and Kai decided it wasn’t worth the headache. Added, what mattered lay in the lines of text below.

  Aspect: [Loyalty] [Mirror]

  'Two?'

  Kai had only expected Windslayer to possess a single magical trait. Yet here it was, displaying two aspects. The names themselves defied his expectations—*Loyalty* and *Mirror* were not the traits he would have associated with the transparent blade.

  'Loyalty? Really?'

  Sure, Windslayer always returned when he called for it, but it wasn’t exactly harmless to its owner. The blade had already stabbed him once without a shred of remorse, and one wrong move could see it doing so again, what's loyal in that?

  'A dog had more loyalty than this sword.'

  As for *Mirror,* that was even more baffling. The sword’s glass-like blade was transparent, not reflective—hardly the kind of surface you would use as a mirror. He's better off using a mundane iron sword as a mirror than Windslayer.

  Shrugging, Kai quickly focuses on what Loyalty has to say.

  Loyalty – The wielder’s will is its command. It would slay the wind to your order. Depending on the wielder’s mental capacity, its loyalty’s potential is boundless.

  'Huh... can’t argue with that.'

  The name still didn’t sit well with him though, but he couldn’t deny the description was accurate. He had been using *Loyalty* ever since the sword first came into his possession. Through sheer will, he commanded Windslayer during battle, calling it back to his hand no matter how far it had been flung. It responded instantly, without fail.

  Yet Kaiser often felt like he was only scratching the surface of its potential. Sure, it was convenient having a weapon that couldn’t be lost, but what else could it do? If the description was to be believed, *Loyalty’s* capabilities were only limited by his ability to wield it. The thought intrigued him. Could he someday master the blade to such a degree that it would zip around the battlefield on its own, slashing through enemies while he sleeps on the sidelines?

  The idea brought a small smirk to his lips, but he quickly dismissed the fantasy. There was still more to learn, after all. And such mastery is nowhere near, heck, his not even sure if that's possible. Shifting his focus, Kaiser turned his attention to the second aspect: *Mirror*.

  Unlike *Loyalty*, this was something entirely new to him. If not for the ring’s ability to unearth secrets about his possessions—Though whatever means—, he might never have known *Mirror* even existed. His curiosity grew as he read its description.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Mirror – It reflects the wielder’s soul as an endeavor to unlock its true potential alongside you.

  The words made him pause once more.

  'The hell does that mean?'

  If *Loyalty* was straightforward and practical, *Mirror* was the opposite: cryptic and abstract. Reflect his soul? Unlock potential? What did that even entail? Was it meant to be metaphorical or literal?

  Kaiser’s brow furrowed as he considered the possibilities. Did this mean Windslayer would grow stronger alongside him? Or did it imply something deeper—that the blade somehow mirrored his essence, his thoughts, his emotions? If so, it might explain why the sword felt so unpredictable and an assh*le at times... Like him.

  The more he thought about it, the more questions arose. What would happen if his soul was fractured or unstable? Could the sword become a liability? And more importantly, how could he harness this aspect to his advantage?

  Kaiser let out a frustrated sigh. 'Damn sword’s as mysterious as the damned Realms.'

  Still, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. The possibilities were endless, and he was determined to unravel them all. If *Loyalty* gave him control over Windslayer’s physical movements, then *Mirror* might hold the key to something even greater.

  “Kai? What are you going to show me again?” Hazie’s voice broke through his thoughts.

  'Ah, I almost forgot.'

  He realized he had been lingering for some time, distracted by the pleasant discovery. However, Hazie didn’t seem too bothered; she was resting, her body language unperturbed by the brief delay.

  Then, his focus shifted to the second thing gnawing at him—the black-skulled beast blocking the cave entrance. Its lengthy head loomed just a distance away, its futile attempts to reach its prey filling the air with guttural growls and shrieks. The creature was trapped outside, unable to enter, but its persistence grated on his nerves.

  Straightening his posture, he grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

  “I figured we wouldn’t be able to sleep with that noisy bastard at the door,” he said, stretching his arms. “And I really want to rest peacefully.”

  Without another word, he strode toward the entrance, his steps purposeful. Dim light spilled into the cave from the outside, illuminating his form as he emerged from the darkness. Hazie watched him from her resting spot, her curiosity piqued but her exhaustion kept her still.

  As Kaiser neared the beast, memories of the fiery battle flooded his mind—flashes of fallen Hunters and Volunteers, their lifeless bodies strewn across the blood-soaked ground amidst the wildfire. Those memories were raw, seared into his soul, and every encounter with these monstrosities only stoked the fire of his rage. No matter what they look like or where they came from, at the end of the day, what invaded Greenland is something called a monster... The same thing that's at their door.

  Creatures unworthy of life and better dead than alive.

  'Scum.'

  Windslayer dangled lazily in his hand, its transparent blade glinting faintly in the dim light. Then, his grip tightened as anger and anguish surged within him, transforming his weariness into a wrathful resolved.

  He wasn’t doing this because he was tired of explaining orally to Hazie. No, he was doing this because he was *done*—done looking at the smug, taunting creature that dared to disturb his fragile peace, acting all tough and mighty as if they're nothing but bugs to be eaten like the invaders did to the brave defenders of the village.

  “Let’s see where that wildness of yours goes after I’m done with you,” he muttered under his breath.

  The pterodactyl-like beast shrieked again, its blackened skull rattling as it struggled to squeeze through the cave’s narrow entrance. Its movements were frantic, unafraid and restless—an insult to Kaiser’s already frayed patience.

  Suddenly, Windslayer flew from his hand, a streak of transparent steel slicing through the dim light as it hurtled toward the beast’s eyes. The blade aimed for the vulnerable hollows of its skull, but the creature’s erratic movements threw off his focus. The sword’s tip struck the rough exterior with a metallic clang, bouncing off harmlessly.

  Yet physics seemed to have little authority over Windslayer. Instead of following the expected trajectory, the blade shot upward with an almost defiant hum, vibrating in midair before being yanked back toward Kaiser by an invisible force.

  He caught the hilt effortlessly, the blade steady in his grasp.

  “I missed,” he said, his voice cold and unbothered. “Oh well, I can try again. And again. Let’s see how long you’ll last.”

  His smile turned menacing, his eyes alight with an intensity that made the air in the cave feel colder. A palpable wave of killing intent radiated from him.

  The beast paused, its piercing gaze fixed on him. Its growls fell silent, as if it were reconsidering its life choices. Probably thinking.

  'Is this worm really planning to use my eyes as a dartboard for his entertainment?'

  Yes indeed, that's exactly what Kaiser intended.

  After all, the beast was right there—blocking the entrance, making incessant noise, and disturbing the exhausted people inside who were too tired to venture deeper into the lightless cave. Its presence was practically begging to be used for target practice.

  Kaiser’s grin widened as he prepared Windslayer for another throw, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. The dense cave walls would easily withstand the beast’s rage, leaving him free to indulge his annoyance.

  What followed next was an almost comical spectacle, one that left Hazie completely dumbfounded. She watched as the once-mighty predator—an embodiment of terror and primal strength up the sky—was reduced to little more than a hapless victim of Kaiser’s blade-throwing antics.

  Kai’s demeanor, usually composed and reserved, had taken a sharp turn into something… unconventional. Who would have guessed he had such a chaotic side to him? Hazie remained silent, her lips twitching between disbelief and reluctant amusement as the transparent blade zipped through the air time and time again, ricocheting off the beast’s skull or bouncing back to its wielder.

  The pterodactyl-like creature shrieked in fury, but its cries turned more like frustrated protests than fearsome roars. Each near-hit, each wound or cut, chipped away at its dignity. And Kaiser? He looked like he was having the time of his life, unbothered by his misses and too entertained to stop.

  Eventually, the beast had enough. It yanked its head back out of the entrance, finally realizing that trying to breach the cave was a lost cause. Why bother when a blade-wielding lunatic was waiting just to torment it? And what's up with that returning sword, giving him unlimited ammo?

  With a sharp grunt, the creature retreated, its stomping steps above them fading into the distance. Though, they're not fooled for its likely waiting outside instead of giving up on them, not after Kaiser bullied it.

  “Aw, leaving so soon?” Kaiser muttered, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment. “And here I was just starting to enjoy myself.”

  Hazie raised a brow, her lips quirked in a dry smile. “Then you shouldn't have abused the poor thing too much.”

  Kaiser shrugged, his grin unfading. “Don’t blame me. Its eyes were too difficult to hit, so I had to make it bleed in other spots.”

  Shaking her head, Hazie let out a soft chuckle. She was too tired to press further and, admittedly, somewhat relieved that the beast had been driven off.

  With the entrance now quiet, the two companions finally settled down. At last, the cave grew peaceful, allowing them to drift into much-needed rest for tomorrow would bring another day of braving the unknown.