Black Steel didn't hesitate. He grabbed Han Sen's hand and lowered himself down.
Han Sen grabbed the nearest blade and let Black Steel dangle slowly downwards.
Black Steel's fingers were so close to the prize he wanted: the horse knife. His forehead dripped with sweat, knowing that he was making a risky move. If they did something to detonate the grave, they would die right then and there.
Black Steel's hands weren't shaking, though. He got close to the horse knife that was still half within the juice. And very carefully, he drew the knife out.
He moved with precision, bringing the knife out slowly to avoid creating waves. It took him an entire minute to remove it fully.
Suddenly, a drop of sweat dripped off of Black Steel's face. It fell into the steel juice, and then, shaa! White smoke billowed up.
The steel juice bubbled. The knives began to rattle and shake. They were pointing at the pair, freezing them in place.