The Moonlight Swordsman

Aizel's eyes flickered as he gradually recovered consciousness. He realized he was naked on a bed after blinking many times.

He looked around, attempting to figure out where he was. When he looked down at his body, he noticed that all of his wounds, scars, and bite marks had vanished. Even more amazing, his lost arm had totally regenerated.

The creak of the door announced the presence of the old man. He broke the stillness in the room by clearing his throat and speaking. "Oh, you woke up little Aizel."

"Old man... I mean, Grandmaster. Did you treat me?"

"Hmm... Call me Grandmaster Gogo from now on, and 'Yes' I treated you."

Grandmaster Gogo, what a weird name, Aizel thought.

"But how did my arm regenerate? Can a healing potion even do that?"

"That's not a healing potion; it's a regeneration potion. It can regenerate any body part as long as the person is alive." Grandmaster Gogo replied as he took the seat next to him.

"Regeneration potion... What grade is it?"

"It doesn't have any grade. But if we compare it to it, you can consider it a legendary-level grade potion.

"So, I used a legendary potion on you, little Aizel."

Aizel's throat dried up from anxiety, and he couldn't help but wonder what the old man would expect him to do after using a legendary-grade potion on him.

"But don't worry," he slowly stroked his long beard and replied, "Consider this as a gift to my grand disciple, haha...."

"And remember one more thing! Don't tell Vespara about this." He whispered.

So, the old man Gogo is scared of Vespara, as expected, Aizel thought as he chuckled.

"Ahem... Now wear your clothes and follow me to my workshop."

The word 'Workshop' lit up Aizel's eyes. He swiftly got up, put on his Assassin's robe, and eagerly followed Gogo, the old guy.

Aizel felt a rush of excitement as he realized the moment he had been waiting for had arrived: it was time to claim the magical artifact.

He had risked his life for seven days, nearly dying in the process. But the prize was now within his grasp.

As they traversed through the cave, Aizel, and the old man arrived at a large room with towering wooden gates. The old man smoothly actuated the mechanism that opened the doors with a snap of his fingers.

The old man is really living like Batman here, he thought.

As they entered, Aizel's gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of numerous blacksmithing tools thrown about and a puddle of blood in the center. He spotted shelves piled high with weapons, armor, and tools.

"The magic artifacts,"

"Now, I know Vespara sent you here for a particular armor.

"But...

Aizel heard a clear 'but' as his gaze landed on the old man. Whatever was about to be said was clearly not going to be good news.

"It is my absolute worst creation ever. I have locked up that armor forever.

"But if Vespara believes it is for you, then maybe it is... You have to keep a few things in mind.

"The armor I made took me 100 years to forge and enchant; it's really powerful and grows just like a spirit weapon as his wearer's power grows.

"It can suck blood from the enemies and even from you when you wear it,

"The armor acts like it has its own will, you will only be able to use it if the armor likes you, or it will suck you dry in a few minutes. Do you still want to try?"

As he listened to the old man's explanation, Aizel's heart pounded in his chest and his hands trembled with anxiety. He couldn't help but feel a cold shiver run down his spine as he contemplated his options.

Should he accept the offer or try to convince the old guy to give him something else? His thoughts raced as he assessed the dangers and benefits of each option.

But I really need armor; the last fight showed me how much I need it, and it can also grow just like Sekki, he thought.

"If Vespara believes it, then I will give it a try," he said.

"Let's see what fate has in store for you, little Aizel.

"Follow me,"

As they descended further, Aizel's eyes scanned the room filled with various weapons and tools, but a sudden drop in temperature caught his attention.

When he turned to investigate the source of the chill, he discovered a gigantic box, firmly chained from every angle and emanating an odd aura.

"Is that the armor?" he asked.

"Yes, it is,"

"I made this with the help of different mythic monster blood… huh, those days were simply amazing haha…"

The elderly man worked his way meticulously through the various locks that secured the large box.

As each lock was undone, he methodically removed the heavy chains that held the box in place, causing a cloud of dust to billow up around it.

Finally, after removing all of the locks and chains, he carefully swept away the dust, revealing the elaborately carved surface of the box.

"Now, little Aizel, take a deep breath and put all your concentration on the armor. Don't give in to its temptation. Tell me when you are ready."

As he took a long breath to clear his head, Aizel's heart pounded with purpose. His entire focus had shifted to the armor, and he was determined to conquer it. He couldn't afford to die at the hands of a piece of armor that could suffocate him in seconds.

"I am ready,"

The old man's hands trembled as he pried open the lid of the box. Suddenly, with a heavy thud, a box head fell out and hit the ground.

Aizel's attention was drawn to the enigmatic armor.

The armor's surface was covered in complex silver motifs and was entirely black.

The leg and shoulder sections of the armor were very elaborate, with massive silver pauldrons that appeared almost menacing. A small aperture with a pattern that suggested something might shine from within was present in the middle of the armor.