“I can’t even wield a sword, Vincent.”

“The sword’s not for you, numb nuts,”

“Then why am I here,”

“Because I keep you fed and clothed and let you use that nice house in Corone, that’s why.”

The arctic gale whipped ferociously at their backs as the two stood at the entrance to an icy cave. Their journey brought them through mountain passes to the top of the world in their search for arguably the strongest artifact known to their shadowy organization. It had taken months of grueling hiking through the frigid terrain of Salvar, not to mention the weeks spent perusing ancient tomes searching for its location.

Half a year was leading up to this very moment.

“Is that…” John muttered. The cave itself was quite ordinary, a simple hole in the mountainside. For all that was rumored to be inside it, the cave was exceedingly nondescript. The two spent several moments knocking loose snow from the coats that covered every inch of their form, obscuring their faces and features, aside from the shiny metallic arms jutting from the larger of the two.

“Yes that is…” Vince replied raising an eyebrow.

Before them, not five feet away, stood their prize. The most ordinary looking sword either of them had ever seen. Barely long enough to be anything more than a shortsword, the seemingly iron blade was sunk halfway to the hilt in a large chunk of ice.

“...It’s made of...iron?” John mused. Normally swords of legendary status were made of sterner stuff.

“Looks can...be deceiving?” Vince replied cocking his head to the side. Clearly someone from long ago was laughing in their grave, for they had pulled quite the clever prank.

“I walked halfway across the world for something I could have made in two days, Vince,” John said, grinding the words out between his teeth more than anything.

“Maybe there is some sort of illusion on it? To prevent thieves from mistakenly stealing it? Surely once we pull it out we will see its true form.” The scholar hoped he was right as he carefully tread across the icy floor. He took each step with extreme caution, not wanting to set off any traps. After what felt like an eternity he was finally standing over the blade.

Gritting his teeth, the scholar brought his gloved hands to his mouth, pulling each glove off with his teeth as he rubbed his clammy digits together in some vain attempt to create heat. Looking back at his companion, the Emperor flashed a timid thumbs up as he grasped the handle with both hands and took a deep breath.
“BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL!” he roared, pulling with all of his might.

SNAP

The scholar fell flat on his ass, staring at the shattered remains of the blade in his hands with horror. Before him half the blade remained buried in ice, whilst the other half had snapped off in his hands.

“It fucking…” the two muttered in unison.

“By the goddamn Thayne, Vince!” John yelled. “You dragged me out here in a country I’ve been banished from, into the freezing cold for weeks!” John’s armor grew a sword that appeared to look like the one that had broken. “I CAN FUCKING PULL THESE OUT OF MY ASS!”

The scholar looked incredibly flustered as he watched his companion storm out into the arctic hell they had just escaped.

“Come back! I need you to dig out the other half, we clearly have some work to do.”

John’s grumbling was indecipherable as he walked back into the cave, a sledgehammer replacing the sword in his armored hands.