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[Void Edge]

Warning: This sword's grade is far above the standards of this world!

Grade: ??? (Impossible to grade in the current world) - Alive

Type: Void Magic Blade (Sword-Staff and Void Core Hybrid)

Origin: Created by an ascended being in the simplest way possible—by mashing together two priceless weapons with bare hands and adding the core of a Voidbount Tyrant. The void core in this sword could be detected by the other Voidbound Tyrants.

Properties:

Mana Synchronization: The blade is not a mere conduit for mana—it is part of it. Mana flows through it as naturally as blood through veins.

Arcane Resonance: Originally a staff and a sword, the remnants of the staff's magic remain, enhancing spells cast through the blade.

Void Resonance: Thanks to the Voidbound Tyrant core inside, it can interact with void.

Physical-Magic Balance: Unlike most magic swords, which lean toward either magic or melee, this blade balances both perfectly, making it ideal for a magic swordsman.

Information:

Unrefined but Divine: Though crudely forged, its existence is above mortal craftsmanship. Even in this imperfect state, it surpasses almost all swords in the physical world.

Ascended Trash, Mortal Treasure: What was thrown together as an afterthought by an ascended being is a priceless artifact in the physical world.

Alive: ???

***

Arlon gasped.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe entirely.

Because—it had worked.

Despite his hope, despite his careful thinking, a part of him had still expected failure. Or at least, something to go wrong.

Jiroeki hadn't said it wouldn't work, sure—but that wasn't the same as assurance.

Not when it came from an ascended existence whose thoughts and standards were so far removed from his understanding.

But the sword was here.

Real. Solid. Cold in his grip. And somehow more than real.

He could feel it—not just the weight of it, not just the texture or the mana running through it, but something deeper.

The same kind of awareness he sometimes felt when wielding a perfectly-formed spell or when the flow of time aligned exactly with his will.

This sword wasn't just complete. It was perfect in a way he didn't yet have the words for.

He glanced at the interface without thinking. His instincts always pulled him toward details first. Information. Numbers. Stats.

And there it was.

A warning.

It said that the grade was higher than the standards of this world.

But he didn't know what its grade was. The grade section had been hidden just like it was when the sword hadn't merged with the void core.

But, there was an extra thing. It said "Alive" on the grade section. What did it mean?

Alive?

Arlon blinked. Read it again. Then again.

What the hell did that mean?

Was it literal? Was the sword a living being now? Could it think, act, choose?

That couldn't be right. He held it tight in his hand, and it didn't move. It didn't vibrate or pulse or shift like a living thing would.

And yet… something about its presence did feel aware. Watching. Not consciously—but like a void that noticed.

He stared at the blade, remembering how the color shifted subtly as he turned it, the way it devoured light but not in a lifeless way.

If he had to describe the appearance of the sword, especially the void portion of it, he might've used the word "alive" even before the system did.

But this label felt like more than a metaphor.

Still, there were no answers yet.

Maybe the sword would show him something in battle. Maybe it would react to his mana or grow stronger with time. For now, he let the mystery remain.

Then, his attention shifted—drawn by another line of text.

Another warning.

The void core in this sword could be detected by the other Voidbound Tyrants.

Arlon raised an eyebrow. That… made sense.

The core inside this sword hadn't just been a decorative piece. It was part of the Tyrant itself.

If there were other creatures like it—other Voidbound monsters—then maybe they were linked somehow. Maybe the cores resonated like signals between predators.

But it didn't bother him.

Because he wasn't going to meet another Voidbound Tyrant anytime soon.

He was sure of it. He hoped he was sure. And if he did, well… he wouldn't be running for a year this time or take his time killing it.

He had changed.

He had survived.

Lastly, his eyes caught the final new addition in the sword's description. The one that mattered most to him.

And with that, a grin tugged at the corner of Arlon's lips.

There was a new property called "Void Resonance". And this was exactly what he hoped for from this upgrade.

This—this was why he had gambled the core, why he had asked Jiroeki for this specific merge instead of some flashy new weapon.

Not for strength alone. Not just for aesthetic or uniqueness. But for understanding.

Arlon had been a high-level mage for a long time now. The kind of mage who didn't just cast what he was taught, but studied what he saw.

Broke it apart. Rebuilt it. Improved it.

He generally couldn't see through the mechanics of the spells his enemies used like Agema did. But he could analyze, imitate, and evolve some of them.

Back on Floor 90, the humanoid boss had used spatial magic. Clean, precise.

Arlon had recognized the framework, dissected the structure mid-fight, and eventually used it as a foundation to construct his own variation.

Not because he was some unmatched genius, but because Arlon was also familiar with spatial magic.

But when he had encountered the creature—the Voidbound Tyrant—it had been different.

What it wielded hadn't been magic. Not in the traditional sense.

The void it controlled was something else entirely.

It hadn't been cast like a spell or shaped through circles or incantations. It had just been. An attribute that warped everything around it.

An essence that silenced his regeneration and maybe many other things.

Arlon hadn't been able to look away from it.

Even as he fought for his life, a part of him had been curious. Obsessed.

What is this?

And more importantly: Can I learn it?

The void attribute—or whatever this was—felt rare. Ancient. Maybe forbidden. But Arlon wanted it. Not just to use it but to understand it.

That core had been his only link. His only chance.

And now, through this sword—through Void Resonance—he finally had access to that forbidden thread.

He could study it. Draw from it. Feel how it moved through the weapon, how it interacted with mana and space. How it defied laws.

It was the perfect research subject.

And it also strengthened his sword.

Two birds with one stone.

And Arlon knew—deep in his chest—that it had been worth it.

Worth the weeks of pain. Worth the months of running.

Worth the year he'd spent fleeing from that creature, clinging to survival.