I continued to test the metal rod—
[Soul Bound Staff].
When I said, "Become light," it responded.
Not instantly, but with this strange, almost delayed breath—like it had to think about obeying me.
At first, it was just a fraction of weight gone. Then more.
The pressure in my arms eased, until I could swing it with both hands—awkwardly, sure, but swing it nonetheless.
"…Interesting," I muttered, tightening my grip.
"Become lighter," I tried again, voice firmer.
The staff shimmered slightly, like heat rising off a forge, and it responded—this time faster, smoother. My arms no longer trembled trying to hold it upright. It was adapting to me. Or maybe... I was adapting to it.
Then I whispered the opposite.
"Become heavy."
CLUNK.
My feet immediately sank a few inches into the soil.
My shoulders buckled, and I nearly collapsed.
"Sh—shit…!"
I forced it down, planting the tip into the earth just to stay upright.