The dragon's roar still echoed through the shattered hall as golden energy pulsed around my fist. Kenjiro's eyes went wide with terror as he realized what was happening to his family's legendary sword.
Hairline cracks appeared along the blade's surface, spreading like spider webs from the point where my energy-wreathed fist had made contact. The three-hundred-year-old steel, supposedly capable of cutting through mountains, was fracturing under the pressure of my power.
"Impossible," Kenjiro whispered, watching his ancestral weapon disintegrate. "This blade has never been broken. It has survived countless battles, defeated legendary masters..."
"It survived those battles because it never faced anything like this," I replied, my voice carrying the deep resonance of the dragon's power. "Your sword is just metal. My technique channels the essence of the Dragon Emperor himself."
