Rodent let his question hang in the air as, almost instantly, the room that had heated like a different kind of sauna went away. He remained there, unmoving and uncaring, waiting with his smile as if he had all the time in the world. Seconds became moments, and moments became minutes.

And then…

…something not told about in the legend happened.

“How did you know?” asked the Sword.

Rodent chuckled, legs crossed, leaning backward. “Ahaha! Knew it!”

The Sword, however, remained as it was, waiting for its answer.

Done with his laughing, Rodent sat normally again, addressing the blade. “From the legend. The Ancient Hero infused himself into his sword. It doesn’t take much to assume that a little bit of you might be in there.” He cracked his neck and leaned side to side. “Plus, all your subordinates talked as if you had a will of your own.”

The Sword remained as it was. “You are not one meant to be here.”

“That’s right.” Rodent nodded almost with his whole body. “And yet… I’m here anyway.”

“Go on, then,” the blade said. “Test yourself.”

“You kidding? No shot.” Rodent squinted, crossed his arms, and leaned back. “I know how your little game goes. You send a booty call to all the greats and trick them into thinking they’ll find power and fame by pulling you out of your hermit hole.” Rodent struck an index finger at the heavenly sky, which was too bright to see above. “I guess you’re doing something special to keep the electricity running.”

The Sword did not understand him fully… but got the implication. “My power will not be wasted on one who cannot even wield it.”

“I get that notion,” Rodent responded. “But why do you have to kill them?”

“I. DO NOT. KILL.” The cave-like room echoed and rumbled. “IT IS THE WEAKNESS OF THOSE THAT ATTEMPT ME THAT CAUSES THEM TO PERISH. YOU—LIKE THEM—ARE ALLOWED TO LEAVE. BUT THE NEXT HERO, THE TRUE HERO, WILL BE ABLE TO BEAR MY WEIGHT AND STRENGTH AND WITH IT, BEGIN THE NEXT CHAPTER!”

“And look at how well that philosophy has been going! You’ve been stuck in a sword for how many centuries… and what’s your success rate so far?”

“YOU BELIEVE THE POWER TO SAVE THE WORLD SHOULD BE GRANTED TO ONE WHO CANNOT EVEN SHOULDER IT?”

“Fuck no!” Rodent said, waving a hand. “But you look upon all those you have called. Those with great minds, great hearts, great strengths, each flawed in their own way—but with the potential to overcome themselves and improve. I saw what became all of those that chased after you.”

“They came of their own feet.”

“Because you promise power, strength, fame, importance—the chance to help people, to save the world.” Rodent gestured a hand to where he had come from. “Do you even know how fucked the world is right now? How even the ‘weak’ chance their life to come after you? Because even they know no hero is coming… but still want to save what’s around them anyway.”

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“And I am supposed to help them—those of a lesser cause, of a lesser being—just because they need it?”

“YOU WERE ONCE A FUCKIN’ HERO, WEREN’T YOU!?” Rodent yelled as hatred thundered in his heart. He barely calmed his heart and voice—feeling a coughing fit approach. “You should already know those who, no matter what, don’t have what it takes. You could still guide them to do better. The world is being overtaken by Deskar and the wicked strong—and all the good ones came here to die to you!”

Rodent glared at the blade. “Is that how you wanted your little test to go? To call away the good, letting the world fall into despair, into Deskar, as the wicked have a better chance of taking over. Is that what all this talk of a ‘Sword’ is about? What the Ancient Hero wants for the world he apparently saved?”

“WHO ARE YOU?!” the Sword boomed in a dangerous voice, an infected voice, a state of being that was hazardous to entertain for long. “WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK TO ME LIKE THIS?”

“I DON’T HAVE TO BE ANYONE TO CALL OUT BULLSHIT!” Rodent exploded, turning his head and hacking out his lungs. He fought through that to glare back at the sword. “Instead of using all your resources to call upon and test those who might be worthy… you could have been helping them instead… guiding them in some way.”

The Sword listened.

“Sure! Some of them would never have risen very high—deciding, fuck it, my life means naught… might as well try after that ‘Sword!’” Rodent breathed. “But you could have still made hunters out of them. Could have made better guards, protectors or guardians. You could have used your tests to force them to face their worst selves and become better from it!”

Rodent chuckled. “Who knows! Maybe if you spent all this time actually training and guiding someone… then maybe… they would be crafted into the Hero you’ve been waiting for.”

The Sword almost growled. For almost a second, it seemed like an iota of Deskar crawled up the blade… but it went away as quickly as it ‘appeared.’ Then, the blade seemed to have relaxed and spoke more composedly. “I… am no longer… responsible… for this world.”

Seconds paused.

Rodent didn’t dare interrupt them.

“I did… my part… and watched… for long enough.” The Sword almost sounded calm as the rage of the room had disappeared. “But no longer. The world does not do well when a Hero controls everything. Either… the world will put forth a champion worthy of saving it… or it will not.”

Rodent blinked at this.

“I am but a test… here for if the world does produce one worthy enough… but such is no longer my responsibility.” The Sword was calm now, returning to how it had been since it was placed here. “Speak of me as you well. Attempt me or flee—it does not concern me.”

Silence held for a second…

…and Rodent… exhaling a breath and calming himself…

…cracked his usual smirk.

“I have something better than that, sword.”

Despite being silent and still, the Sword had its confusion felt in the room.

“How about instead of all of that,” Rodent led, arms still crossed, leaning back, gazing down at the steel. “You come with me?”