As Hanh and Deth ventured further into Oswald’s Cave, the air grew colder and more oppressive, like breathing in raw power but exhaling even more than you gained. The glowing symbols on the walls pulsed a little faster with energy, and the ground seemed to shift underfoot, playing tricks on their minds, making it appear as if it were breathing and alive.

“I’m really starting to hate this place,” Deth muttered, her eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. “It’s like the cave is trying to mess with us.”

Hanh nodded, his face grim but a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just stay alert. This place is full of surprises, and I doubt any of them are pleasant.” Secretly, Hanh thrived on the danger and didn’t fear death at all because he knew what it was. He had played with its creators and the fabric of its creations. Hanh wasn’t entirely sure he could die. He knew the way back in a way that most would never be able to interpret into spell form. It was still incredibly complicated and messy, with permanent repercussions, but he had changed the way in which they functioned.

Suddenly, the cave’s eerie silence was shattered by a low, guttural growl. Hanh and Deth froze, their eyes darting around to locate the source of the sound.

“Shit, did you hear that?” Deth whispered, her grip tightening on her staff.

“Yeah, I heard it. S’loud ass growl in a dark cave, and it’s just me and you. Yes, I heard it, and it’s getting closer,” Hanh replied, his eyes narrowing. “Get ready.”

Without warning, dark shapes emerged from the shadows. They looked like undead goblins. The jade in Hanh’s chain sensed the direction of their life force. They were living creatures, possibly a cult of necromantic goblins, their coal-colored skin contrasting sharply with the dull gleam of armor made from the bones and hides of their fallen kin. The goblins moved with a terrifying gait, closing in on Hanh and Deth with predatory intent.

“Fuck, here they come!” Deth shouted, raising her bow and shooting an arrow above, causing it to explode in a radiant burst, showering the cavern with light and shimmering green and gold grains of slow-falling sand.

Hanh quickly began to chant an incantation, his hands glowing with a bright, otherworldly light. As he finished the spell, a burst of energy erupted from his fingertips, forming into a massive, wolf-like creature made of dark purple and black swirls. The wolf’s eyes burned with an ethereal fire, and it let out a fierce, bone-chilling howl before charging at the nearest goblin.

 

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The goblins were stunned by the bright light and uncomfortable with the falling dust, distracting them and making them less able in the fight around Hanh and Deth.

“Let’s see how they like my new friend,” Hanh said with a grim smile, watching as the smoky wolf tore into the goblins with savage ferocity.

Deth notched an arrow and drew her bow, her eyes narrowing as she took aim. “Time to show these bastards what a real archer can do.” She released the arrow, and it flew true, striking a goblin in the chest and erupting with a resounding thud. A moment passed where they looked at the goblin and the goblin looked back at them before it burst in explosive energy, sending the creature’s remains scattering and taking out several nearby goblins.

“Explosive arrows for the win,” she muttered, notching another arrow and taking aim.

“Hanh, watch out!” Deth shouted as one of the goblins lunged at him from behind.

Hanh barely had time to react, turning just in time to see the goblin’s claws slash across his arm. He cried out in pain, the force of the blow sending him staggering backward.

“Damn it!” Hanh gritted his teeth, clutching his injured arm. Blood seeped through his fingers, the wound deep and jagged.

“Hang on, I’ve got you!” Deth shouted, her hands glowing with a bright, golden light. She quickly cast Purifying Light, the golden glow enveloping Hanh’s arm and knitting the torn flesh back together almost instantly.

“Holy shit, Deth, that was incredible,” Hanh said, flexing his arm and feeling the pain fade away. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Deth replied with a smirk. “Now, let’s finish these bastards off.”

With renewed determination, Hanh summoned another creature—a towering, armored golem made of Sin and Regret. The golem’s face showed no emotion at all as it smashed into the enemy ranks with unstoppable force, crushing the necromantic goblins beneath its massive fists. Some goblins withered into dust and were absorbed into the golem, making it even stronger due to the lives they had led and the power they held.

 

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Few people studied emotions and their power as Hanh did. He was able to use them in amazing and creative ways.

As the battle raged on, Deth’s mind briefly wandered to the stories she’d heard about the cave. “Hey, Hanh, remember that legend about the treasure hunters? The one who made it out alive but completely messed up?”

“Yeah,” Hanh replied, his voice strained as he cast another spell. “Why?”

“Aric the Mad,” Deth said, her eyes narrowing as she fired another volley of magical bolts. “This place really did a number on him.”

“Well, let’s make sure we don’t end up like him,” Hanh said, his voice firm with determination.

The goblins continued to attack, but Hanh and Deth fought with relentless determination. The dark wolf and the sin golem tore through the enemy ranks, their combined might overwhelming the dark assailants.

Just as it seemed the tide was turning in their favor, a particularly large and grotesque goblin lumbered into view. Its bulbous form was covered in layers of decaying skins from other goblins, each one pocked and oozing with pus. The monstrosity rolled towards them, a living mass of death and rot.

“That’s one ugly motherfucker,” Deth muttered, eyes wide.

The large goblin charged, its massive form crashing through the remnants of its fallen kin. It lunged at Hanh, jagged bones extended and ready to tear him apart. Hanh raised his arm in a desperate attempt to block the attack, but the creature’s form sank deep into his flesh, tearing through muscle and bone.

Hanh screamed in agony, his vision blurring as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. Blood poured from the wounds, the injury far more severe than before.

“Hanh!” Deth shouted, her eyes wide with horror. She quickly cast another Purifying Light, but this time, she added a powerful enchantment that glowed with a brilliant blue light. The light enveloped Hanh’s entire body, and the wounds began to close at an astonishing rate.

“Stay with me, Hanh,” Deth said, her voice filled with urgency. “You’re not going down like this.”

Hanh gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain as the healing magic worked its way through his body. “I’m not done yet,” he said, his voice shaky but determined.

With a final surge of strength, Hanh raised his hands and unleashed a powerful spell, summoning a massive storm of fire and lightning. The storm tore through the cave, incinerating the goblins and the grotesque monstrosity in a blinding flash of light.

 

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As the last of the dark creatures fell, the cave fell silent once more. Hanh and Deth stood amidst the carnage, their breathing heavy and their bodies battered but unbroken.

“Damn, that was close,” Deth said, her voice shaky with relief. “You okay, Hanh?”

Hanh nodded, still catching his breath. “Thanks to you, yeah. That was some fancy healing magic. I owe you one.”

“Just doing my job,” Deth replied with a grin.

Hanh smiled, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

Hanh picked himself up off the ground and tidied him self up a bit.

“We should move,” Deth said, scanning the area. “There could be more of them.”

Hanh nodded, still catching his breath. “Agreed. Let’s find that relic and get the hell out of here.”

They picked their way through the battlefield, stepping over the twisted remains of the necromantic goblins and the smoldering ashes left by Hanh’s magic. The path before them was faint, almost invisible, but the pulsing glow of the symbols on the walls seemed to guide their way.

As they ventured deeper into the cave, the air grew even colder, the oppressive energy thickening with each step. The path twisted and turned, leading them through narrow passages and wide caverns that echoed with the ghostly whispers of ancient magic.

“This place is a damn maze,” Deth muttered, her eyes darting around. “I hope we’re not just wandering in circles.”

Hanh’s gaze was fixed ahead, his senses attuned to the subtle shifts in the cave’s magic. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

After several more twists and turns, the path suddenly opened up into a vast chamber. The walls were lined with intricate carvings, depicting scenes of battles and rituals long forgotten. At the center of the chamber stood a massive stone throne, empty and foreboding. Kneeling before the throne was a man, his head bowed and a dark-bladed sword lying before him.

The man’s hair was long and matted, obscuring his face, and his clothes were tattered and worn. The sword before him was unlike anything Hanh had ever seen—a slick, dark blade that seemed to shimmer like glass and was the color of blood.

Hanh felt an inexplicable pull toward the sword, an almost magnetic attraction that drew him forward. He stepped into the chamber, his eyes fixed on the weapon.

“Wait, Hanh,” Deth whispered urgently, grabbing his arm. “Something’s not right here.”

Hanh shook her off, his gaze unwavering. “I have to see it. There’s something about that sword…”

Deth’s eyes flicked between Hanh and the kneeling man, her instincts screaming at her that this was a trap. “Be careful,” she said, her voice tense. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Hanh approached the man slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. As he drew closer, he could see that the man’s lips were moving, whispering something inaudible. The air around the sword seemed to vibrate with a dark energy, and the closer he got, the stronger the pull became.

When Hanh was just a few steps away, the man suddenly stopped whispering. He lifted his head, revealing eyes that were hollow and empty, like black voids. His voice was a low, raspy whisper as he spoke.

“The sword… it calls to you…”

Hanh nodded, almost entranced. “Yes. What is it?”

The man’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “It is the Blade of Sorrow, forged from the blood of a thousand fallen warriors. It holds great power… and great darkness.”

Hanh reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed the hilt of the sword. The moment he touched it, a surge of energy shot through him, filling his mind with visions of death and destruction. He could see the battles fought with the blade, the lives it had taken, and the darkness that it held.

“Take it,” the man whispered. “It is yours now.”

Hanh hesitated, feeling the weight of the sword’s history and the darkness within it. But the power was too much to resist. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and lifted the blade, feeling its cold, slick surface against his skin.

The moment the sword was in his hand, the man before the throne let out a chilling laugh. “You have chosen the path of sorrow, warlock. May it lead you to your destiny.”

“Youre mi.” the sentence cut short for the sorrow demon.

In that moment, Hanh figured it out. It was a sword forged with sentience and an emotion demon of sorrow, an old friend, and Hanh had an idea. The Sorrow quickly came to realize the irony of his situation as he was just a small drop in a vast ocean of sorrow. It began to howl out in strange four-dimensional sound that shrunk and expanded the space around them. The flesh that the warrior entity had thrived on started sliding into piles on the stone floor as the screaming continued. The fabric of its creation became just a fume of smoke that drifted into Hanh’s robes, strengthening them even further. Then, complete silence.

Hanh and Deth stood motionless for a while, allowing the effect of what had just taken place to wear off.

“Hanh,” Deth said.

“Yes?” Hanh responded.

“What in the world did you just do?”

“Something a little crazy that I think you’re gonna like. It’s risky, and it could go wrong, but when I realized what this sword was, I knew there was a way to bring Jack back. Well, a version of Jack back. Until I can find a way to bring him back completely, this will work. He will be able to come with us. Possibly a bit pissed I pulled him from wherever he’s at right now into a vicious murder sword, and… wait, what am I saying… he’ll love that,” Hanh exclaimed, wide-eyed and frantic looking, hair tousled, with small dark veins drawing back under his robe lining.

Deth stared in shock for a moment and then said, “Well… What are you waiting for? Do it.”

Hanh nodded, gripping the Blade of Sorrow tightly. He closed his eyes and began to chant an incantation, focusing on the essence of the sword and reaching out with his mind to find Jack’s spirit. The blade began to glow with a dark, crimson light, and the air around them seemed to hum with energy.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from the sword. “Hanh? Deth? Is that you?”

Deth gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “Jack? Is that really you?”

“It’s me,” Jack’s voice came from the sword, a mix of confusion and relief. “What the hell happened? Where am I?”

“You’re in the Blade of Sorrow, Jack,” Hanh explained, his voice steady. “I had to bind your spirit to the sword to bring you back. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I could do for now.”

Jack’s voice was silent for a moment, processing the information. “So, I’m a sword now? That’s… new.”

“Yeah, but it means you’re with us again,” Deth said, her voice trembling with emotion. “We thought we lost you.”

“Well, I guess there are worse things than being a badass murder sword,” Jack said, a hint of his usual humor returning. “Thanks, Hanh. I think, Im glad Im alive again, and if you think i can get my killer body that looks good in armor back soon. Well Let’s go kill some shit, and…what are we doing again?” Jack asked confused?”

“What we always do Jacky Boy, try to save the world.”