The information he receives of the weapon, in the system way, would be as follows:
Jubilant Choir - Sir Geraint’s last weapon
“The visit to his fellow king ended in dismay. Feeling the malevolent force, Geraint and Enid run after the banquet hall, reaching there the only greeting they received was the profane singing of the king’s choir, their voices could be heard beyond the closed door barring their path. Haunting, Enid goes after the door, trying to remove the massive wooden bar barring it, seemingly unaware of the thorns that perforate and cut her flesh.
Geraint tries to calm his wife and take her out of it, but all his attempts are met with failure. Only by hurting her he could take her out of this lunacy. Fear gripped his heart as he saw the poor state his wife was. She will only stop this madness when dead. He needed to find a way of this. The singing invading his mind, Geraint successfully removes the wooden bar, his arms, chest and stomach having measurable cuts, but his decorative armor did its poor job defending the valiant knight.
Reaching the banquet hall beyond, with the wooden bar full of thorns in the powerful grip of his hands, nothing took precedence over eliminating this sinful chant.”
This time, the information he received from the weapon was greater than Percival’s. The story didn’t seem to follow from where Percival’s story started or ended. The only thing Roberion could feel from both the stories is that they both showed a grim reality, and maybe a view of what the weapon was about.
“Shining Crown stop this singing, the Shining Crown is looking weird”, Fujin said that as she took her staff in a defensive position, looking at the roothorn.
Roberion tried to wrestle for the control of the weapon. It didn’t take much. The weapon obeyed his command. The singing stopped, but the mouth still maintained the mouth open. Vacant eyes tried to take a look at Roberion; the sight was completely grotesque.
The open mouth had a tongue withing, a pale, almost white, but he couldn’t see if there was a gullet, or if the mouth had an ending. All the lips had the same dark brown color as the wood.
The size of the wood was massive, like a giant club. The length of it was two meters, the diameter the size of Roberion thorax. Him wielding such a weapon would be comical if not for the horrendous aspect the weapon has.
Gripping and looking at the base of the weapon, he could see that the grip was the only part of the weapon that seemed normal. It felt like the wood was compressed. Even with the reduced diameter of the grip compared with its body, it was hard for Roberion to take a good hold of the weapon. His hands almost couldn’t curve around it.
He could feel the heavy weight of the weapon in his arms, but it wasn’t enough to make him lose balance. Anyway, coming from using a rapier to this big club would be obviously different. The weapons seemed to be like polar opposites.
“What an ugly thing, so this is the result of our work, dear? We lost the materials to create this…this abomination. It would be better to let the kids make toys with them”
“Raijin! We are here to help Shining Crown. If this weapon can help him do his mission, it’s good enough. We can’t always predict the results of our actions. Take that as a lesson for you, my old furball. When I had our first daughter, you yourself couldn’t stop telling how she looked weird for a kid, but she had grown up and became a beautiful fiznault. Kannon is the spit image of her.”, the light green fiznault tried to assuage the temper of Raijin.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Alright, Alright, I already said a million times I was sorry for calling her that. Don’t make me remember it.”, Raijin takes a look at the weapon, then at Roberion, “Okay, let’s go kid, let’s do a spar and see what this ugly thing can do. I will be happy to break this thing with my own two hands.”
“Don’t overdo it, dear.”, Fujin said with a joyful expression.
“Relax. If I do go a little overboard, you can intervene.”, saying that Raijin didn’t make any preparation before running too fast reaching Roberion’s left side.
Before Raijin’s fist could hit Roberion’s stomach, the light green fiznault changes the direction at the last second, hitting the center of the club. Splinters rain out as the fist punches the wood. Rajin’s hand withdraws. The weapon still seems combat ready, even with one eye less.
“You need to do better, kid. I will throw saltwater at you if you don’t take this serious. I won’t be the reason you will fail this mission. Take your bald head out of the clouds.”
Roberion tried to store all the strangeness he had of the weapon in the back of his mind. This was the perfect chance for him to train and learn more about the club. Percival had two enchantments. One was the stats it would take because of the die rules, the other was the useful one, he didn’t feel pain. It was time to learn what this grotesque club could do.
Taking a wide stance, Roberion took a few seconds trying to have a feel of the weapon. Moving it from one side to the other, he finally felt what had changed in his body. His movement was slower, and the weight of the weapon wasn’t the only culprit.
Trying to change his foot placement was harder than before, like he was back in the fight against the wild cats, their speed and dexterity making him feel like a turtle fighting a tiger. ‘That’s it, my dexterity is the attribute of this weapon! Now it’s time to know the useful one, if it exists.’
Raijin, as if on cue, tries again the same move. This time, his speed was slowed down, trying to mimic Roberion’s own.
Even with the help of Raijin, it was hard for Roberion to defend the attack. Not seeing much alternative, he tried to move the weapon to his left side clumsily. The first hit the weapon directly, another chunk of the wood broken. This time a mouth was hit, as splinters and teeth rained, the lips and tooths was nowhere to be seen, only a thorn tongue and dark brown space were left.
Dammit, what a useless weapon. Percival isn’t strong, but he, at least, is versatile and can help with many things. Having a wooden stick that can sing doesn’t seem to be useful for anything.
The moment his mind thought of the singing, Roberion felt a connection to the weapon. Stopping its singing was the wrong way to go. This weapon was no one hit wonder. He could do something more than aggro the calm roothorn.
Roberion moved the weapon to his right, feeling his energy drain as one of the remaining mouths started to sing. This time, it was a merry melody. Shining Crown didn’t seem to react to the singing, proving that the effect was different from before.
It took a few seconds before the singing stopped and a maroon ball of light that looked like a bubble started to leave the singer’s mouth. Having a feeling of what that was about, Roberion swing the club in the direction of Raijin, trying to target the bubble at him.
Rajin evaded to the back with easy. But that wasn’t the end of the attack. The bubble left the mouth and was shot fast forward as the mouth closed again. The maroon bubble was fast. Roberion thought it was at least 100 mph of speed.
But that still seemed like a snail’s pace for Raijin. He didn’t even try to dash to the side, preferring only to go back some more, proving that his speed was vastly superior.
The ball, as it lost speed, hit the floor. That was when something magical happened. The bubble exploded, branches with thorn vines exploded out, all enveloped by a holy light. As it tried to damage the leafleather floor, a magic shield activated easily withstand the damage.
A few seconds later, the branches and vines disintegrated into sparks, the same way it happened when Percival was damaged. The shield vanishing with it.
“Not bad kid, but any of the kids we trained and are fighting the undead right now could kill you like it was child’s play. The shield of this place can take a way better beating than the undead, but I doubt the undead will wait in line as you throw these bubbles at them.”
Rajin cracked his fists, “Let’s fix that”, Rajin said with a predatory grin betraying the age of the old fiznault.