From what Roland had read in ancient texts, the essence of a Curse was Magic Energy steeped in malice or intense negative emotions.

A Caster would use their will, a ritual, or a special ability to forcibly "brand" this Energy onto a target.

This typically manifested as a forced distortion of the target’s form, abilities, fate, or state of being, violating the natural laws of life and the fundamental Laws of the world.

Moreover, a Curse would establish a supernatural link between the Caster and the cursed, supplying the Energy needed to sustain its effect.

In simpler terms, once you were afflicted by a Curse, the torment and pain would shadow you for ages, ceaselessly gnawing away at your very being.

However...

Roland narrowed his eyes, recalling the lore on Curses as he carefully examined the weapon in his hands.

This was the Secret Silver Longsword he had won by defeating Gandar in the martial tournament hosted by King Morne in Distant Harbor.

That had been nearly half a year ago.

Yet in all that time, Roland had never felt anything unusual about it, let alone a so-called Curse.

"Sir Roland?"

A gentle voice pulled Roland from his thoughts.

Roland didn’t respond immediately, looking at Estelle, whose expression had returned to one of serene composure.

He carefully replayed his meeting with the Pikachu, Tress, and the entire journey to this place called Star Dew Forest.

After a long moment of thought, having confirmed that there was nothing amiss, he gently shook his head. He held the Longsword in both hands and slowly offered it to her.

"In that case, I must trouble you to remove the Curse from this weapon."

"It would be my honor."

Estelle didn’t take the sword. Instead, she took a step back, her gaze falling upon the serene Star Tear Lake behind her.

With a gentle gesture of her finger, the lake’s surface instantly rippled.

Specks of silvery-white light rose from the center of the lake, transforming into slender threads that coiled around the Secret Silver Longsword in Roland’s hands.

The blade’s silver gleam flared, and it began to emit a piercing hum.

Bathed in the light of Star Tear Lake’s essence, a network of hideous black thorns instantly surfaced on the blade. It erupted with an unexpectedly cold malice and a viscous resistance, as if it had fused with the sword’s very metal core.

Seeing this, the beautiful features of Estelle’s face instantly tensed.

She took a deep breath, and the pitch of the ancient, arcane syllables she chanted rose, carrying an undeniable authority.

More of the lake’s essence was forcibly drawn forth. The threads of light coalesced into tough, azure chains of water that wrapped tightly around the violently trembling Longsword, lifting it from Roland’s hands and suspending it above the lake.

The pure, immense power of the lake water washed over the cursed thorns.

Under the natural might of Star Tear Lake, the energy tether connecting the Curse to its unknown source let out a silent, mournful cry as it was shattered, inch by inch, into Annihilation.

Roland watched, holding his breath.

He could sense that Estelle’s energy was being rapidly depleted.

Her slender figure appeared exceptionally frail within the hazy glow. Fine beads of sweat even formed on her temples, shimmering like tiny stars in the light of Star Tear Lake.

The stubbornness of this Curse clearly exceeded her expectations.

Finally, with a shattering sound that seemed to rise from the Abyss—a sound only the soul could hear—the black thorns completely disintegrated within the azure cocoon of light.

The Longsword let out a clear, ringing cry of liberation, and an unprecedentedly warm, pure radiance flowed from its blade.

Estelle’s tense body suddenly relaxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She swayed, quickly reaching out to steady herself against the trunk of a nearby ancient tree.

Her face was pale and her breathing was shallow. The ethereal, transcendent calm she had possessed moments ago was gone, replaced by the exhaustion of having overexerted her Power.

The Pikachu Fairy Queen closed her eyes, regulating her breathing for a moment to suppress her weakness.

When she opened her eyes again, she cast a complicated gaze upon the floating Longsword.

Then, with a gentle wave of her hand, she dispelled the cocoon of light and chains of water.

The Longsword fell and she caught it, her hand seeming somewhat weak.

Estelle’s fingertips brushed across the blade, its brilliance now subdued. Her touch was exceptionally gentle, as if handling something fragile, and a flicker of indescribable shock and gravity crossed the depths of her eyes.

"It is done, Sir Roland."

Her voice carried a trace of fatigue as she handed the sword back.

"The waters of Star Tear Lake... have washed away its brand of suffering."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the purified blade once more as she murmured.

"It’s just... for this sword to bear such a Curse without showing any outward signs... its own Energy is far more powerful than I imagined..."

Roland looked at Estelle’s pale face and weary eyes, and the questions in his mind grew like wild vines.

’What is the origin of this Secret Silver Longsword?’

’How could it be so difficult to dispel its Curse that even a Pikachu Fairy Queen who has mastered High Ring Spells was pushed to her limit?’

As he thought this, he took the sword, and his [Material Synesthesia] activated instantly.

The sword felt substantial, far heavier than it had before.

But what surprised Roland even more was that the mended seam on the sword’s spine—the one he had discovered when he first awakened his [Material Synesthesia] Trait—was now gone without a trace.

Stranger still was the "whisper" that now came from it.

The soft hum of the Wind Element remained, but a warm, resolute Energy, one filled with comfort and a sense of inviolable sanctity, now radiated from the sword’s core.

This Energy was the polar opposite of the Curse’s chilling gloom—powerful and unfamiliar.

"Miss Estelle..."

Noticing the change, Roland looked at the weakened Estelle and asked slowly.

"This unfamiliar Power... is it a Blessing you placed upon it?"

"No, Sir Roland..."

Estelle leaned against the tree, her face pale.

"That is Holy Power."

She paused to catch her breath, then continued to explain.

"Holy Power typically originates from the grace of the gods or from a supreme Holy Oath. Its essence is pure Positive Energy, making it the natural opposite of Negative Energy like death, evil, and Curses."

"Its most prominent Traits are soothing the suffering of living beings, dispelling Darkness and filth, and... purifying the taint of evil."

She looked at the sword, her eyes filled with pure curiosity and a hint of deep, imperceptible thought.

"For a weapon to contain such pure Holy Power is, in itself, extremely rare and worthy of further study. As for why it was entangled in a Curse..."

She shook her head slightly.

"That is beyond my knowledge."

Estelle’s gaze lingered on the warm gleam of the blade for a moment, as if piercing through the glow of the Mithril to touch something deeper.

Her pale lips moved, as if she were carefully choosing her words. Finally, with a hint of uncertainty, she spoke softly.

"It’s just... such pure and potent Holy Power, such a profound presence... it reminds me of certain ancient legends."

"In those legends, there are items that are more than mere ’weapons.’ They are often intrinsically linked to a specific soul or an ancient pact. Their true power... can perhaps only be manifested by calling upon their ’true name’..."

"’True name’... manifestation..."

Roland lowered his gaze thoughtfully, the pad of his finger once again brushing against the warm spine of the blade.

’Those two words...’ He was reminded of an anime he had seen before he was transported to this world.

Meanwhile, Estelle continued to speak.

"This type of ’weapon’ is called a... Treasure Tool."