Bloodstained Blade

Chapter 202 - Clash of the Titans

In that moment, everything changed. The Ebon Blade was given an ebon body to match, and as it drank in the light, it advanced on its opponent. Its flames were no longer bright, but they raged more powerfully than ever, and every blow that was struck as their swords clashed again rained a shower of sparks.

The blade’s wielder was stronger than it had ever been, but even so, it wasn’t able to force through the perfect countermoves of its opponent, except to offer him the smallest of scratches in return when it managed to avoid the man’s armor. That no longer mattered, though, because of the rage of the goddess that had consumed the Ebon Blade’s revenant was consuming Argandin’s weapon and armor too.

One blow at a time, one clash at a time, its burning blade was chipping and cutting away at the god’s divine tools. Each dark ember or splash of void fire left only corrosion, and increasingly, holes in the mail as the chain links came apart to reveal the clothing and flesh beneath.

+201 Life Force.

It was worse than that, though, because Argandin no longer had anything to strike back at. The blade’s body might be temporarily disrupted by a thrust or a well-timed slash, but Vergozza’s power seemed boundless. She was something beyond a ghost, or even a revenant. She was a fury of boundless hate, and though she powered the blade’s dual, she clawed back the souls that were woven into all of Argandin’s armaments.

The sword could see it. Each of its strikes severed threads, and each of those threads was drawn into the inky, bottomless void that was death.

“Foul magic,” the god cried out when the Ebon Blade made its first good blow into the man’s guts, and twisted before withdrawing.

+69 Life Force.

No more foul than armor that cannot be penetrated, powered by the souls of ten thousand victims— the sword responded.

“I’d never accept a victim or a coward,” the War God countered, attacking even more fiercely. “Only true heroes find their way into my service. That’s what you’re destroying now. Every ring is a better man than you would ever be.”

The blade ignored him, for it had no desire to be a man. Even his statement was untrue. No one was being destroyed. Death was simply reclaiming them and drawing them back to the afterlife.

Even if she wasn’t, though, it wouldn’t have done anything different. Their final battle had reached a fever pitch, and each blow moved quickly for the mortal eye to follow. Their blades hammered against each other ceaselessly. The didn’t stop when the bloody red blade of war grew notched and jagged, and certainly not when it finally snapped. Then, the blade didn’t hesitate at all and followed through, cutting Argandin’s head from his shoulders.

As it spun away, leaving a spray of blood in its wake, there was a look of surprise on his face. He obviously never thought that he could lose, and really, he was almost right.

+64 Life Force.

It evaporated before it hit the ground. Death tried to claim Argandin’s soul then, as it left his corpse, but the blade held on tight to that one. It had given her the rest, but this god’s soul, well, it wasn’t going to let that one go. It had specific plans for it.

+1 God Soul.

The few remaining pieces of the dead god’s corpse lingered only for a few seconds after that. The blade’s black inferno faded as it did, revealing the battered ground beneath them. Their conflict had taken quite a toll on their resplendent battleground.

Not only had the combat shattered many of the gemstones, rendering a whole stretch of the world map shattered, but it also revealed the graven stone that lay just beneath it. It depicted a complicated set of runes that were probably important. Still, the blade wasted no time in studying them and instead returned its attention to Hydonar.

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The Lord of Light hadn’t left where he was sitting, and even as the black apparition that was the blade’s wielder pointed it at him, the most he offered was a polite clap. “So the cursed blade can beat even our ferocious Argandin. I would not have guessed that.”

The blade regarded the man as he stood. He didn’t seem particularly concerned, or even afraid. Which surprised it. How long does it take to replace a god? The weapon wondered.

That question was answered in the High God’s next breath. “We could make you the new God of War, you know, we have an opening.”

The blade leveled itself at the man as he vaulted over the wall and landed lightly on the jeweled floor. Where he stood, it was still pristine, even though he seemed much closer than he’d been when the Ebon Blade had dueled Argandin. Why would I ever want to work for you? It demanded.

“Well, the other Gods don’t work for me exactly,” Hydonar, “They pursue their own focus. In your case, you would manage the warfare of the mortal realm and keep the bloodshed to a showy but appropriate minimum. It’s not like you were made for anything else.”

On that issue at least, the blade had to admit that the man had a point, and Geral or no, it would have been forced to give that some thought, had the man not followed up with, “And provide me the right level of homage, of course.”

The blade would never provide even the highest of gods with homage. It bristled at the notion. Still, instead of shouting him down right away, it lowered itself as it pretended to think. It didn’t think, though. Instead it grabbed Argandin’s soul with all its might and whispered, I want your power, so I can finish this.

I have many powers, the dead god answered. I can—

A screen flickered briefly in front of its gaze with three choices, but it brushed those aside. I want your power to force a single enemy to face me, the sword countered.

The god didn’t even argue or try to fight it as the others had. It just whispered granted and faded away.

You have gained Inviolable Duel.

Inviolable Duel: For five hundred life force, you can designate a single enemy as your opponent. You and that opponent are then engaged in a duel that nothing and no one can interfere with until only the victor remains. Surrender is not an option, and this power lasts indefinitely so long as there is no victor.

Five hundred Life Force was expensive, but there were many times when the Ebon Blade would have loved nothing more than to have this power. It would have made certain moments much simpler. Still, it didn’t use it instantly, because it first wanted to judge Hydonar’s response to its words before tipping its hand.

Perhaps when I slay you, I will take your seat and become the god of the world, the blade answered, moving toward him.

“I do not think the world would survive you,” the toga-wearing god laughed, gesturing at the ruined mosaic. “Look at what you’ve done to it.”

The blade ignored the man’s jokes, moving toward him. It was only when the other gods began to descend that it stopped. “You think I’d fight a weapon that has slain gods in single combat?” Hydonar asked. “Teamwork is how we defeated Nuella, and it is how we will defeat you.”

As he spoke, the other gods stepped forward, pitting the blade against not just the high god, but the gods of the dwarves and elves, too, along with the songstress that had already given it so many problems on the way here. One-on-one was impossible enough, given its weakened state, but four? The blade doubted it would have survived such a thing.

Fortunately, it didn’t have to. In that moment, it activated Argandin’s power. The result was immediate. The world snapped into focus and warped. Even though the other three gods didn’t move, the world did, pushing them into the distance as the magic created a small infinity between the two dualists and everyone else.

-500 Life Force.

The blade enjoyed the brief look of shock that passed across Hydonar’s features before he said, “But that’s Argandin’s power… how did you—”

For just a moment, the god’s eyes shone with fear. He didn’t acknowledge it, though. Instead, he said, “Well, if I must fight you alone, then at least I won’t have to hold back.”