The first thing Roland took from the leather pouch was a dark purple Short Spike, about half a foot long.
Under the dim starlight, the Short Spike revealed a peculiar texture.
It was a deep, dark purple, almost black, yet at certain angles, it shimmered faintly with a metallic luster.
Its surface wasn't smooth. It was naturally covered in fine, regular spiral patterns, resembling the carapace of some Deep Sea creature or a strange, masterfully forged metal.
The tip was exceptionally sharp, a glint of cold light gathered there, unblinking.
Even when motionless, he could feel a faint tingling caused by the weak arcs of Spiritual Energy that danced across its surface.
It was cool to the touch and slightly lighter than an equal volume of Fine Iron, yet it was exceptionally tough; pressing down hard with the pad of his finger didn't cause the slightest deformation.
