The cannon he pulled from his void key was made entirely of Remnant parts. It looked like it had been created from slick bones of black light; it was too big to be used in one hand, and it had a rounded, organic appearance that came to sharp points. Its mouth was the snarling maw of a dragon's skull, and it was made of black madra with ripples of d

He heads downhill, the earth squishing underfoot. His sword might be in the bog somewhere, hilt protruding from the wet earth. Hopefully he’ll just stumble onto it. That’s usually how this works, the various ancient forces of the realm conspiring to make things easier for him. That was always one of the perks of being in Arthur’s warband. You’d blu