Chapter 16: The Choice of Weapons

The blue light of the energy crystals that lined the corridor vibrated softly, casting shifting shadows on the ancient walls. Caelum and Alaric advanced cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the silence of centuries. The passage seemed to lead them ever deeper into the bowels of the mountain.

"Do you feel like an ancient hero in a tale, or is it just me?" Caelum asked with his usual smirk, trying to break the tension.

Alaric only answered with a furtive glance. Despite his apparent calm, Caelum could sense his companion's anxiety. This heavy silence did not suit him at all.

The corridor suddenly widened, opening onto a vast circular room. The ceiling rose so high that it disappeared into darkness, while the floor was dotted with intricate patterns, carved into the stone. In the center of the room, a massive structure stood: a pedestal topped with a transparent dome, housing a series of energy crystals of various sizes, surrounded by weapons made of the purest black iron.

Caelum whistled, impressed. "If this is a trap, at least it's well decorated."

Alaric approached the pedestal, his eyes fixed on the weapons on display. There were blades, axes, maces, all glinting in the light of the crystals. Each weapon was finely crafted, clearly the work of master blacksmiths.

"These are… relics," Alaric murmured, almost to himself. "Weapons forged centuries ago, perhaps even by the first settlers. They've survived all this time, preserved here."

Caelum leaned over to examine a dagger, his fingers delicately brushing the cold metal. He could feel the energy emanating from the weapon, a subtle but steady hum, like a slowly beating heart.

"That's a lot of weapons for a simple museum," Caelum remarked. "Maybe we should borrow a couple, just in case."

Alaric hesitated. "Taking these weapons is a dangerous path. They're not just tools of war, they're symbols of power."

Caelum shrugged. "Good thing we're already up to our necks in shit, so we might as well have the right toys to get us out of it."

He reached out and picked up the dagger he'd been eyeing. The weapon was surprisingly light, despite its black iron. Raising it to his eye level, he noticed that the edge was razor-sharp, and the crystal embedded in the hilt seemed to glow brighter, as if responding to his touch.

"What do you think, Alaric? Do we make them our own, or do we continue to fight with our old stuff?"

Alaric turned to him, a rare smile on his lips. "I suppose if we're going to die, we might as well die in style."

He selected a longsword, beautifully balanced, its weight perfectly distributed despite its size. Examining it, he found inscriptions along the blade, words in an ancient language he couldn't decipher.

"Maybe with this, we have a chance of piercing them," Alaric said thoughtfully. "If these weapons were forged here, with the best crystals, they could pierce any armor." »

Caelum nodded, thinking about all he had learned about power armor systems. If these weapons were as powerful as they looked, they could turn the tide in their favor.

"So, do you think we can do this?" he asked, his tone half serious, half sarcastic.

"I didn't come all this way to fail," Alaric replied with a firmness that surprised Caelum.

The young prince smiled wider. "Then let's go kick some ass."

They quickly equipped themselves, choosing the weapons they thought would be most appropriate. Caelum slipped the dagger into its sheath, adjusting a leather belt to secure more blades. Alaric, meanwhile, strapped the sword onto his belt and added a small axe to his kit. The crystal of each weapon seemed to react to their decision, emitting a brighter glow, as if to approve their choice.

"There is one more question," Caelum said, adjusting his new acquisitions. "What do we do now?"

Alaric turned toward the opposite exit from the one they had come through. Another corridor, as dark and threatening as the first, stretched out before them.

"We move forward," he replied, determined.

"Moving forward is what I do best," Caelum replied with a wink.

They stepped into the new passage, their newly acquired weapons vibrating slightly in their hands. The weight of the relics they carried seemed to lighten their steps, instilling new hope in them. They knew the path ahead would be fraught with danger, but with these legendary weapons at their side, they finally had a chance to fight on equal terms against those who sought to destroy them.

But what they didn't know was that each weapon had a story, a past that might catch up with them before they could even reach their goal. For now, however, they were ready to face whatever stood in their way, determined to rewrite the fate of Arkhadia, one blade at a time.

The tension in the air was palpable as they pushed deeper into the mountain, their footsteps echoing in the darkness, accompanied only by the whisper of the crystals.

**AN: That's all for today. Feel free to comment. The sooner I correct my mistakes, the better the story will be.**