“So what you're telling me, is that the group of four have been doing a rotation to keep up their energy and are now waiting in the next room to ambush me after I've tired myself out.” Harald said in a worried tone.

Lock nodded, “It's the conclusion I came to with the information present. What it all hinges on is the assumption that I made about there being something sour between you and them, or them targeting you as a victim of circumstance. Being the only solo adventurer in line and all. Do you think it's plausible?” he asked.

Harald dragged a hand down his face. “I guess you could say that we've had previous interactions. Me and the leader, Butch. We live in the same area and we've sparred several times at the training ground. He's always beaten me before, he's been an adventurer for longer, but recently I've started winning.” He glanced down at his sword, which was once again balanced upon its tip. “Ever since I got this sword.” He said hesitantly.

“You think he took the defeat badly enough to do something about it?” Lock asked.

Harald reluctantly nodded. “He's definitely the type. His father holds some power as a city guard captain where we live. Butch is used to bullying others and getting away with it.” He seemed hesitant to say more.

Therefore Lock made a hand-sign in Mia's direction, who was standing slightly off from the two men talking, at his gesture she quietly piped up however.

“Is there something special about the sword?” She asked in a slightly raspy voice. Her throat must have still been hurting. Thankfully she'd been mindful enough to cover up her bruised neck with her scarf once Harald had entered the room.

Lock nodded inwardly at her question. He'd only needed her to continue on the conversation, Harald probably being more open to bearing his secrets to a girl than to Lock, but Mia had gone above and beyond by asking the most important question.

It was good to see that the previous altercation hadn't affected her too much. His hypothesis about her was correct. Happy Time was too valuable, she considered him to be too high-levelled, and she herself was, while emotional (he'd only recently found out), not emotional enough to compromise the situation. She would probably forgo telling her sister what had happened. Simply warning her that the mission was high stakes and that they had to give it their all.

She would complete her assignment, and try to never interact with him again.

Well, there was one scenario where it could all go wrong. She could be right. Someone could be bleeding out in the next room this very moment, and he had said that he'd release her from her obligation if that were indeed true. But the chance of him being wrong... He almost giggled.

Harald meanwhile had seemingly finally brought up the courage to answer Mia's question.

“I'm hesitant to say this, the last person I told about my sword was Butch, and its apparently brought me trouble. But, if you'd gone in there you might have gotten into a bad spot meant for me. So I feel I owe ya. I guess.” Harald stretched out his hand and plucked the sword from its upright position on the ground, laying it into his lap. “I was never anything special really. Living in a far off village I was just the average boy with slightly higher than average physical stats due to helping my father in the smithy. Until a noble visited our shop one day, seeking to buy a sword. He got what he wanted. The only problem was,” his breath hitched, “that he was a bastard who apparently liked testing out the weapons he bought on their creators to make sure that they were of 'sufficient quality'. My father was a good smith, the noble was a weakling. In a fair battle my father would have won, but the noble stabbed him in the back when he was turning around to give him the change for the sword. My father's apprentice saw everything, but he didn't do shit to help, only told me and my mother the story afterwards before he ran off. I thought that the monetary situation without Father would be tough, but he had an oddly large amount of coin stashed away. I later found out that while our family needed much, being five heads big and all. Our father had been an exceptionally competent smith, too exceptional for his circumstances. He had never learned from any renowned master, never left the village he was born in, never been particularly inspired. The mystery wouldn't let me go, and so after I'd become an Adventurer, and deemed myself strong enough to go back there and defend myself in case of any unpleasantness happening, I returned to the home of my youth. I found the smithy burned down, likely to hide any evidence of what had occurred there. But that didn't stop me from searching. I went out there in the dead of night, looking through the ash and rubble for several days until I found the secret compartment under the forge that I knew my father had, but had never known the location of. Within I found some more coins, and well-crafted tools, but most importantly, I found this sword.” He unsheathed the sword slightly, and Lock couldn't help but whistle, a bastard sword always carried with it a certain connotation of inelegance, but this particular example blew that expectation right out of the water.

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It was a beautiful blade. The metal glittered like starlight, reflecting everything in its surroundings. It seemed fiendishly sharp as well. As if it could cut the very air. “Well, someone put a lot of effort into making this sword, obviously, but does it walk the talk, or is it all bark and no bite?” Lock asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

Harald gave him an odd look before he continued on with his explanation. “This sword is special, for within it, live the shades of its previous wielders. I don't know if all of the previous wielders were great swordsmen, or if the sword only accepts the shades of great swordsmen, but,” Harald had a revenant look on his face, “every single shade in here has the skills to become at least a diamond ranked adventurer only with their swordsmanship. It’s also a very good blade, studying the sword is what helped my father become such an unusually good smith.”

Well, Lock couldn't claim that he wasn't impressed even further with that particular effect, but any and all interest he had in actually possessing the sword immediately disappeared with the utterance that there were shades living within it. Shades were only impressions that a person left behind, not even one thousandth of a soul, but Lock liked his soul, no matter what infinitely small percentage of it, right where it was. “So, I imagine you can draw upon the experience of the shades within the sword to bolster your own skill?” Lock still asked dutifully, causing Harald to nod.

“Yeah, for only one Endurance point a month, you can gain access to the swordsmanship skills of one of the shades. The best part however is that the skills persist to a lesser degree even when you're not using the sword. Butch for example, I beat with a wooden practice sword.” He explained.

Lock meanwhile, was busy being struck by a feeling of irony so pure, that one couldn't have distilled it any further if one had the power of a god.

This sword, was a ridiculously powerful artefact. While most would think that using stat points to feed it was going a bit overboard. The levelling speed one could gain by -without training mind you- having access to the sword skills of a master, more than made up for it. It even had more tangible benefits: The body being led by the shade of a swords-master would naturally retain some of the muscle memory, leading to a permanent skill increase.

“Well, I have to give it to you, you're in possession of one of the most useful artefacts I've ever heard of, but you obviously lack the brain to wield it if you told anyone about it.” Lock said, expressing his true opinion about the manner. What an idiot...

Harald rubbed the back of his head. Hopefully in shame. “Bragging about it to Butch wasn't my brightest moment, but... thanks to your warning I don't have to experience the consequences of my stupidity.”

“Oh, I think you are going to experience very harsh consequences for your stupidity in the near future. If you don't solve the issue right now, I mean.” Lock informed him in an exasperated tone, causing Harald to tense up and send a questioning look his way.

Lock wondered if the guy was too altruistic to consider the obvious, or if he was just dumb.

“Okay, thought experiment. You're an asshole with a small gang of friends and you've just found out a guy you previously thought was your whipping boy has stumbled upon a powerful artefact and is now leaving you in the dust with his progress. What do you do?” Lock asked.

After Harald took more than a minute to answer, and just stared at him blankly, Lock couldn't help but answer the question himself.

“You take your butt buddies, tell them that that little shit Harald has been getting uppity, and plan an ambush for him. You beat him up. Maybe 'accidentally' kill him so no one in your gang can ever talk about what happened, without being complicit in murder, and after the deed, you non-nonchalantly take Harald's sword. You don't say anything about it being an artefact, you just take it, telling your friends its a trophy or something. Does this scenario may-haps sound plausible to you.” Lock said with a forced smile infliction in his tone.

“Yeah, sure, but now that I know of the ambush I can just avoid it.” Harald said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Lock face-palmed. The clang that emitted from his helmet as his gauntlet smacked into it resounding harshly through the tunnel.

“That's not a solution, that just means that they're going to try to ambush you somewhere else next time, and you won't know about it since it was simple luck that I noticed what was going on.” Lock said.

“Well what am I supposed to do then.” The words seemingly burst out of Harald. “I'm not an idiot, I know that if I escape now they'll just come for me again, but what the hell am I supposed to do here!” He finished, almost shouting.

Lock grinned. All according to plan. But outwardly, he emotionally, smashed his hand into the wall he was leaning in, “you're supposed to go in and kill the bastards!”

“I'm fucking outnumbered, how the flying shit do you think I'm suppose to do that!” Herald screamed back while jumping up and laying a hand on his sword hilt.

“You know what, fuck, okay, I'll help you kill those shits, I don't feel like waiting here for the next seven days,” Lock started, feeling like he was killing his vocal chords, “but I get the experience, and let me use your sword, I don't want this traced back to me!” He finished.

“How do I know you won't just run off with the sword huh!” Harald retorted, causing Lock to stomp on the ground theatrically.

“Who gives a shit about your fucking sword. I like my Endurance points right where they are! Also what kind of fucking person do you take me for bro, someone who'd just rob a guy because he has something I want!?” Lock shouted, and then finished with a more quiet “You're here stuck with me and my subordinate anyway, if I wanted the sword I could have it.”

Harald's eyes got slightly moist and he closed in on Lock, causing him to almost jump back and draw his weapon, but he relaxed when he noticed that the other teen was drawing him into a hug.

“You're a real bro, bro.” Harald said, almost sobbing.

Lock awkwardly patted his back, locking gazes with an incredulous Mia from his position looking over Harald's shoulder.

She pulled down her scarf and pointed at the purple knots intertwining over her delicate neck.

Lock shrugged.