Max closed his eyes, and with a thought, summoned the image of his soul. A vague golden being sitting cross-legged appeared behind Max who was also seated cross-legged in the training chamber.
It shimmered behind him—solid golden form. Then, with precise intent, he separated a tiny fragment, about one percent, and gently guided it into the blade.
A golden thread separated from the soul form floated towards the sword and merged into it.
The sword trembled. It glowed golden faintly at first, then violently vibrated as it tried to resist the invasion. But Max's soul fragment wasn't just raw power—it carried intent, will, and dominion. The sword had no choice but to yield.
Cracks of light ran across the blade's surface, vanishing a second later. The resistance faded. A connection formed.
