Among thirteen swords, there is one.
It is covered with rust, blood stains were baked.
The bitter fate has overtaken him, the flow of time has stopped.
He was unjustly forgotten, won\'t shine.
He was lying there thinking, remembering the past.
How he had been in hundreds of battles.
His mighty masters.
Gerard, Emma, Ciri, Frey, and Benedict.
Three hundred and three years later.
The sword was still lying there.
From memory, it disappeared.
...