The majestic gates of Heliosbane Estate parted, welcoming them with a breathtaking sight befitting noble residence. At the main mansion's courtyard, a line of exclusive maids stood in perfect formation. Yet what truly caught the eye was an unexpected figure - one of his elder sisters who usually remained absent during such occasions.
"Sister?" Raiden blinked repeatedly, ensuring his vision wasn't deceiving him. "How surprising to find you still at the mansion at this hour." Confusion clearly painted his features, mindful of his sister's routine of being perpetually engrossed in various engagements.
Before Raiden could inquire further, Freyja Eirlys Heliosbane - the third sister - immediately pounced with an affectionate, tight embrace. With her characteristic playful movements, she pressed her cheek against her beloved brother's, nuzzling repeatedly as if unwilling to let go. "Finally! Finally, my dearest brother has awakened his magical talent," she whispered in a melodious, teasing tone. "You have no idea how overjoyed your sister is to hear such wonderful news, my sweet little brother."
Freyja, like Raiden and their mother, was blessed with the Heliosbane family's crown of pride - long silver hair that shimmered like crystal-dusted strands flowing in perfect straightness. Among Raiden's four elder sisters, Freyja possessed the most striking and unique personality. Her mischievous and teasing demeanor was reserved solely for her innermost circle, especially her cherished younger brother. Behind her sensual and alluring charm lay a temperament cold as ice - a frigid and unwelcoming attitude directed at those who failed to earn a place within her circle of trust. Freyja was indeed known as someone highly selective in choosing who deserved the warmth of her disposition.
Freyja's aura of majesty was undeniable. Every gaze she cast radiated superiority towards those around her, regarding them as far beneath her station. Yet strangely, no one took offense at her attitude. How could they object? Freyja was born a true queen - the perfection emanating from her elegance, genius, and stunning features existed on a level nearly untouchable by ordinary mortals.
After seeing Raiden off, the vehicle carrying their mother and aunt immediately rushed toward the company office. After bidding farewell to Raiden and their third sister, the luxurious car sped away from the magnificent estate.
With tender affection, Freyja grasped her little brother's strong hand. Her graceful steps guided them into the mansion, heading to her room on the top floor - a private chamber that reflected her special status within the family.
Inside her lavish private quarters, Freyja wasted no time presenting the birthday gift she had prepared with careful consideration.
"Rai," her voice flowed like a melody, "This is the Soul-Devourer Blade, a Mystical-Sword of the highest grade." Freyja explained with gentleness reserved only for her beloved brother. "This legendary sword has never acknowledged anyone as its master. But Sister is certain you'll be its first true wielder."
Raiden's eyes sparkled in amazement. His hands carefully examined every detail of the double-edged sword before him. The straight blade, dominated by deep black, radiated a majesty he had never witnessed before. Only now did he truly understand why Mystical Weapons were so revered.
"Thank you, Sister," Raiden said with a charming innocent smile.
Seeing the beautiful curve of her brother's lips, Freyja's heart suddenly raced. A warm feeling flooded her chest, touched by the sincerity of her precious little man.
Carefully, Raiden returned the sword to the wooden box resting atop the table. His steps were measured yet deliberate as he approached his sister. Without hesitation, his arms encircled Freyja's slender frame in a warm embrace. Though initially startled, her surprised expression quickly melted into genuine tenderness as she returned her brother's embrace with equal fervor.
Time seemed to freeze in their shared moment. After countless minutes wrapped in the comfort of their embrace, Raiden finally took the initiative to release his hold. Freyja, who still had pressing matters to attend to, bid her farewell with a sweet promise on her lips - one final gift she would present at a special place.
Making his way to his private chambers, Raiden carried the sword his sister had bestowed upon him. The silver saber that had faithfully hung at his waist now found its resting place in a specialized weapons compartment - a hidden alcove tucked away in the corner of his room.
Settling into his chair, Raiden's fingers reverently drew the new blade from its black sheath. The scabbard itself was a masterpiece - robust in its design, yet captivating with intricate engravings that flowed like a visual symphony, creating perfect harmony between function and aesthetics.
Once again, Before him stood the Soul-Devourer Blade, a legendary weapon whose mere presence made the air heavy with dark energy. Its magnificent blade stretched nearly one and a half meters long, wrapped in an obsidian-like mysterious material that seemed to capture and devour surrounding light.
The blade's surface defied conventional smoothness—it undulated like eternal smoke frozen in solid form. Most remarkable were the ancient engravings adorning its entire length, emanating silvery gleams with mystical blue flickers that pulsed like whispers from another realm. Deep grooves carved spiral patterns along the blade, channeling the dark energy flowing within.
The crossguard was a terrifying yet mesmerizing piece of artistry. Shaped like a pair of proudly spread bat wings, it featured intricately carved bone details crafted with exceptional precision. Small skulls lined its surface, their eyes gleaming ominously as if watching any who dared approach. The black material, combined with ancient silver accents, gave it the appearance of a relic from a long-forgotten era. Magical runes carved into every corner emitted a dark energy that seemed to pulse with life. The guard's edges were adorned with curved, razor-sharp claws poised to tear.
The grip was wrapped in black dragon leather, its scaled texture feeling alive beneath one's touch. Silver threads intertwined in complex patterns reminiscent of forbidden ancient rituals. Perfect for a two-handed grip, it possessed the magical ability to adjust its size to its wielder's hands. A pitch-black gem was embedded in its center, like a miniature black hole consuming all surrounding light.
The pommel crowned its fearsome design—a dragon skull with a jaw that moved on its own as if still alive. A pair of glowing blue crystals inhabited its eye sockets, projecting a cold gaze that seemed to pierce the soul. Purple-black smoke occasionally wafted from its fang-filled maw, creating the illusion that the skull still breathed. Sharp horns curved backward from its head, completing an appearance that made anyone think twice before daring to grasp it.
With a calm yet meaningful motion, Raiden slid his right index finger along the sharp edge of the blade. Fresh blood trickled down, randomly dripping onto the cold metal surface while his left hand gripping the sword handle began emanating waves of extraordinarily powerful magical energy.
In an instant, the ancient runes carved along the blade ignited. Blue crystals embedded at strategic points of the sword glowed in response, radiating a mystical silvery-blue aura shrouded in shimmering dark mist. This magical phenomenon lasted for several sacred seconds. The miniature dragon head ornament adorning the pommel seemed to awaken from its long slumber - its jaw moving subtly, its pair of blue crystal eyes emitting such intense light that filled the chamber.
As seconds ticked by, Raiden felt the spiritual bond between himself and the legendary sword in his grasp growing stronger. Their magical connection intertwined so deeply to the soul level, as if the sword had become an extension of his very existence. They were now bound in a sacred relationship between master and faithful servant.
"Welcome, my true companion," Raiden whispered with a smile of satisfaction painted across his face. His heart warmed feeling the sword's enthusiastic response, as if they had been destined to unite since the beginning of creation.