Wizard: Unlimited Profession Slots Chapter 750 - 345: Retrospect

Ron gradually released his grip on the hilt of the "Blood Oath," as a surge of terror emanated from the profound hatred embedded within.

Just a fleeting touch allowed Moghan’s fixation to attempt burrowing into his heart, hunting for any spark of rage to cling to.

"How are you holding up?" Uther’s spectral form drifted beside him, those silver eyes brimming with worry.

"Far more... intense than I expected."

Ron massaged his temples, working hard to expel the persistent alien feelings from his thoughts:

"This degree of willpower imprint goes beyond what enchanted weapons can achieve."

"Spot on."

Uther nodded approvingly:

"A genuine Master Sword absorbs the wielder’s soul mark through prolonged use.

They evolve from mere tools into sentient beings, carrying memories and intent."

The elderly professor’s ghost shifted to the adjacent pedestal, where a longsword immersed in holy radiance floated:

"Behold ’Purge,’ the former weapon of paladin Selas."

The blade gleamed like crystal, golden glow coursing through its core.

Despite the shielding barrier, Ron perceived the overwhelming purity and fervor of justice.

Holy symbols adorned the hilt with exquisite detail, radiating divine grandeur.

"Paladins..."

Ron pondered aloud:

"I remember historical accounts describing them as a holy army against the Abyss?"

"Precisely, and Selas stood as the greatest of them all."

Uther’s voice held a tangle of sentiments:

"He wielded this blade to cleanse hordes of abyssal fiends, earning titles like ’Bane of Darkness’ and ’Light Incarnate.’"

Yet the professor’s tone darkened:

"Sadly, even the brightest light fades in this realm’s grasp."

Ron spotted that while sacred glow still enveloped the sword, a subtle shadow lurked in its depths.

That shadow crept like ink diffusing in milk, tiny but profoundly disturbing.

"Selas stumbled upon a cruel reality."

Uther spoke as if reciting a tragic tale:

"The ’Holy Light’ he revered turned out to be a parasitic intent from beyond. Those divine powers mirrored abyssal corruption in essence."

This truth struck Ron like lightning.

Memories of his suspicions about "Star Eater’s Ravings" origins flooded back.

Cultivating ties to higher entities always carried perilous unknowns.

"What revealed it to Selas?" he asked warily.

"Deep in an Abyss purge, he met an ancient entity."

Uther’s form flickered faintly:

"It revealed that ’Holy Light’ was mere domination in disguise.

Believers imagined noble deeds, yet harvested souls for some otherworldly will."

"Selas resisted the notion at first, but deeper probes unveiled horrors beyond nightmare."

The professor’s words dripped with pity:

"’Purified’ souls didn’t ascend to peace—they fed the ’Holy Light’s’ origin, sustaining a higher-dimensional horror."

Through "Extraordinary Recognition," Ron stared at "Purge," watching that concealed darkness twist like a vital parasite.

"Faith’s destruction cuts deeper than any blade."

Uther sighed heavily:

"Selas chose exile into the Abyss with ’Purge,’ vanishing forever."

"This sword chronicles his complete spiritual downfall."

The professor cautioned gravely:

"Touching it floods you with that betrayal’s agony.

For the devout, it delivers a devastating soul strike."

Uther advanced to the fourth pedestal.

A longsword of chilling menace floated there, its crimson blade oozing viscous fluid across the surface.

"Meet ’Blood Drinker.’

Uther’s demeanor turned gravely solemn:

"Its master, Blood Knight Macar, ranks among history’s most divisive magic swordsmen."

Ron scrutinized the weapon intently.

The fluid proved no mere blood, but vibrant life force pulsing actively.

Within the steel, myriad minuscule vessels throbbed like a colossal heartbeat.

"Macar lived by one creed—the sword’s path."

Uther elaborated:

"It siphons bloodline essence from fallen foes, fueling the wielder’s strength.

In theory, endless battles yield boundless growth."

"Tempting offer, no doubt."

Ron evaluated coolly:

"Yet power like that demands a steep price."

"Exactly."

Uther gave a wry shake of his head:

"’Blood Drinker’s’ forging was intricate beyond measure. Macar blended essences from hundreds of species—dragons, beasts, even Abyss spawn."

"Such merging granted vast versatility, but planted lethal flaws."

The professor’s warning sharpened:

"More bloodlines absorbed, more chaos invades the wielder’s mind and flesh."

Ron invoked "Extraordinary Recognition," left awestruck by the vision.

In that unique gaze, ’Blood Drinker’ resembled a writhing bloodline cauldron.