The warriors slowly stopped retreating, but none stepped forward. Their eyes remained locked on the sword, their bodies tense.
Arthur raised a hand, his voice calm. "Relax. it's not going to hurt anyone."
The reassurance, however, only made them back away further—especially since his sword happened to be pointing directly at them when he spoke.
Realizing his mistake, Arthur blinked, lowering the blade awkwardly. "…Right. My bad."
Morrika stared, her expression stuck between awe and horror. "Is that… what I think it is?"
Arthur gave her a lopsided shrug, as if he were talking about an old trinket. "Yeah… It's Satan's sword. Abyssal Fang."
The surrounding warriors visibly stiffened. Whispers erupted. Some even backed away again, gripping their weapons on instinct. Just the name alone was enough to send a chill through them.
