CHAPTER 160: THE OATHBLADE’S TEST : SHADOWS OF SACRIFICE!

The figure paused. Its reply was slow, deliberate.

"Because you were the one who came. The one who sought, not for power alone, but for freedom. That choice makes you different. That choice makes you... possible."

Her chest tightened. Tears stung her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

Still, her hand trembled as she reached toward the blade. The glow flared brighter, filling the void with blinding radiance.

Her fingers hovered over the hilt.

And she stopped.

Her voice shook, but her words were firm.

"Not yet. I will not take you blindly. If I swear this oath, I must be certain. Show me... show me more. Show me what it means to carry you."

The void rumbled with the figure’s laughter—deep, echoing, neither cruel nor kind.

"Very well, child. You wish to see the truth? Then witness it. Witness the blood and sorrow of those who bore me before you. Only then will you know if you are prepared to bind your soul."

The battlefield visions flared again—louder, harsher, filled with screams and triumphs, betrayals and sacrifices.

The Oathblade pulsed like a heartbeat, waiting.

And Elysia stood before it, her hand trembling, her heart torn between fear and resolve.

The void grew colder the longer Elysia stood before the vision of the war.

Her hand hovered over the hilt of the Oathblade, but she didn’t grasp it.

Her lips parted, and she spoke aloud, her voice echoing faintly in the hollow chamber.

"If you truly are the Oathblade... if you truly once stood against demons... then you will not give your power so easily. What must I do to prove myself?"

Then, a voice—deep, ancient, and layered with countless echoes—filled the chamber.

"Child of the noble family... to claim me, you must bear witness to the weight of my oath. I am not a weapon of conquest. I am a covenant of blood. To wield me is to inherit every burden of those who fought and fell."

Elysia’s eyes widened. It speaks...

The flames along the cavern walls suddenly surged higher, and the world around her shifted. In the blink of an eye, the cavern was gone.

Instead, she stood in the middle of a vast battlefield. The stench of blood and smoke filled her lungs.

Broken banners fluttered in the wind, and the ground was littered with corpses—humans and demons alike.

Black clouds swirled overhead, thunder rumbling like the growl of some hungry beast.

Elysia staggered, clutching her chest. "This... this is the past."

A figure appeared before her—a warrior clad in armor cracked and scorched, gripping the very Oathblade she had seen on the altar.

"Is that the same war you have shown me?"

"Yes, it is"

His eyes burned with determination, yet grief shadowed his face. Behind him, countless soldiers charged forward, shouting, fighting, dying.

The warrior raised the blade and roared.

"For humanity! For the oath we swore—to never let the demons claim this world!"

He leapt into the fray, cutting down a colossal demon whose body towered like a mountain. But even as he triumphed, arrows of black flame pierced his chest. Still, he did not fall.

Elysia’s heart pounded. The scene changed again.

Now she saw another—this time a woman, draped in silver armor, wielding the Oathblade against a tide of shadow beasts.

Her face was calm, almost serene, even as her companions fell one by one. Her voice whispered softly, carried by the winds of memory:

"The oath is not glory. It is a sacrifice. To wield this blade is to bleed so others may live."

One vision after another flashed before Elysia’s eyes—warriors, heroes, nameless soldiers.

Each took up the Oathblade. Each carved through legions of demons. And each, without exception, died in battle.

Her knees buckled. She clutched her chest, trembling.

"Why... Why?" she shouted into the storm of visions.

The echoing voice returned, calm but unyielding.

"Because every wielder of the Oathblade bears the same fate. To accept me is to swear your life, knowing it may end in sacrifice. Will you walk that path, knowing you may never see victory, only battle upon battle until the end?"

Elysia fell silent. The battlefield faded, and she was back in the void again. The Oathblade still lay before her, unmoving, yet its presence now pressed on her like the weight of a mountain.

Her hands clenched into fists.

She thought of her father, who had bowed his head to the Celestial Royal like a dog. She thought of Edwin, standing by her side with clenched fists, helpless but burning with fury. And she thought of Kael, cold, distant Kael whose path was rival with hers, and she thought of her friend Jin and Cecelia.

Her voice was steady, though her chest ached.

"I will not take you yet. Not until I am ready. If all who carried you before died without seeing the end, then I will be different. I will break that cycle. I will carry your oath not to die... but to live, and to win."

The cavern fell silent. For a long moment, nothing stirred. Then, the crimson glow softened, fading into a faint silver light.

The Oathblade’s voice returned, quieter this time, almost contemplative.

"Few have ever spoken such words before me. Very well, child. You may leave me upon this altar—for now. But when the time comes, and your heart is certain, I shall answer your call."

The pressure lifted. The torches dimmed. The void returned to its cold stillness.

Elysia stepped back, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She stared at the sword one last time, her eyes filled not with fear, but with determination.

"Then wait for me," she whispered. "I’ll return. And when I do, I will not fail."

With that, she turned and ascended the shadowed path, the flames bowing as she passed once more.

The Oathblade remained on the altar, silent and patient—just as it had for centuries.

And for the first time in a hundred years, its faint glow lingered long after the cavern returned to darkness.

"BUT", a voice cut through again.

"Let’s return together with the sword, child"