Kael's grip on the sword tightened, his body on high alert. Something in the air felt different now—charged with the weight of an ancient presence. The words of the sword echoed in his mind, but now there was another voice, far more powerful, a presence he couldn't ignore.
Zurin's figure remained silent for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. Slowly, he began to speak again, his voice calm but filled with sorrow and wisdom.
"I was born as a commoner in a small village nestled in the mountains," Zurin began. "It was a quiet life... until one day, a witch came to our village. She destroyed our homes and took us children, experimenting on us for dark magic. I was the only one to survive."
The spirit's voice grew darker as he continued. Kael could hear the weight of years in his words, a lifetime of pain and regret.
