They t in the center of the arena with three quick strides before their weapons crossed and the sound of clashing tal rang out. The Ebon Blade didn’t use its full strength in that first exchange, and it could tell that Argandin didn’t either, and yet still, the two swords t with enough force to make a shock wave ripple out through the broad and bejeweled plaza that was spread out around them.
As their two blades t, the sword took in the asure of its opponent and his weapon. It wasn’t steel, but the red blade was just as hard and as sharp as it was. It wasn’t the ghostly material that all the other souls it had fought were. That was the bad news, but the good news was that the fight wouldn’t go too quickly, and it wanted to enjoy the experience.
They locked hilts for a mont before pulling away, and their second blows rang out all the louder after they pulled away and lashed out a second ti. This ti, they both hit harder, and the gemstone tiles of the world mosaic broke beneath their feet, but neither of them gave ground.
The God of War wore unassuming armor that did not compare to the grandeur of the other gods, but his sword was made of a red tal that tasted like blood.
That interested the blade. However, as it tried to probe for whatever power it might contain, so that it could learn them the sa way it had other hex blades, it t with an unexpected result.
Path of War Unlocked.
In the mont that offered the blade no benefit. It still hadn’t completed the Path of Undeath yet. It was interesting, though, and offered it one more option if it ever built its own construct. For now, though, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the fight.
The blade had been in a thousand fights, and the souls that had been forced together to create it had been in thousands more, but none of them were like this. Even the duel it had with Argandin’s Avatar only a few days before was nothing more than a warm-up compared to this.
The grizzled War God moved with a perfect economy of motion. Every strike was attack and defense, and one, and each ti he repositioned his feet or adjusted his stance, it allowed him to pivot the force he was bringing to bear in a different and unexpected direction.
While the blade didn’t let itself get distracted by the simplicity of the god’s motions, its focus wasn’t enough to let it keep up. There was no magic to it beyond speed and skill, but with each pivot, it fell further behind.
Ti and ti again, it struck out at an opening, only to find the window closing as its tip reached it. Parries beca ripostes and feints beca traps. Even those few strokes that penetrated Argandin’s defenses glanced harmlessly off of his battered chainmail armor. The god wasn’t nearly as visually impressive as his peers, but his defenses were all but impenetrable.
When the blade finally secured a glancing cut on the man’s wrist for the first ti and tasted his blood a minute into the fight, it was elated. Even that wasn’t enough, though. A mortal foe’s limb would have weakened imdiately, but the only sign of injury in Argandin was a grim smile as he growled. “First blood, but what did it cost you?”
First blood was ant to mock the blade, so it gave no answer. The truth was that the war God had struck it hard more than a dozen tis, already, the blows had just done very little.
66 Life Force.
It wasn’t being wielded by a burning skeleton anymore so much as a ghost made of violent flas, where a few bony embers still burned. Almost all of Geral’s flesh was gone, but it didn’t care. It moved with more fluid grace than ever. It rely had to think, and its body would respond, leaving precious little for its opponent to target.
The Ebon Blade might have difficulty penetrating the War God’s armor, but he was bleeding, at least a little, from wounds that would never heal. Still, it wasn’t enough, though. Despite distorting the rules of the world and even changing its shape to try different styles, its opponent still outmatched it.
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193 Life Force.
If I were being wielded by a living body, I would have probably already lost, the blade reflected, as it outflanked the god and laid down a barrage of strikes, though they did little good. Argandin sohow saw all of them coming.
The blade wondered what it might do for a long mont. Then it hit upon a plan and reached for the soul of the dead God’s avatar. Surely I can use that soul with my grudge powers to…
But there was no grudge there. Even as the blade studied it while it switched to fighting defensively, it could find no hint of resentnt for his fate in the dead man’s soul. That’s a real mark of honor, the blade decided as it consud him anyway. If he couldn’t use the dead man to gain so advantage over the War God directly, it would do so directly.
Tell everything you know about his style of fighting, the blade commanded.
The avatar’s spirit gave up that martial knowledge almost willingly, as it didn’t think that sothing so trivial would benefit the blade. And after another half minute of combat, it beca clear that it didn’t. The spirit imparted knowledge of the katas and stances to the blade, but there was a difference between knowing and understanding.
Its movents improved enough for the God of War to smile, but not enough for it to win, and the sword’s strikes glanced off the armor almost as much as they had before.
“You’re almost all used up,” the God grunted, locking hilts with it again. “Let’s end this.”
The sword didn’t attempt to respond. Instead, it focused entirely on the rapid-fire attacks that followed. Its wielder had the flexibility and the speed to keep up, but as it grew more insubstantial without a true physical body, the Ebon Blade was forced back, again and again, losing pieces of its remaining ribs and left fibula as it tried to find a chink in its opponent’s technique.
Desperately, it lashed out with Hellfire again for all the good it did. It followed that up with Bolt, and a few other attacks, but it did little good. It looked in its soul gem a second ti, as it gave ground, and it was then that it noticed the thread of a powerful grudge that connected Vergozza’s soul to Argandin’s.
-225 Life Force.
It was loath to use the soul of any god, but in this mont, it was desperate. It had tried to beat the War God with its own skill and arsenal of power, but millennia of skill and divine might outmatched even its arsenal.
It swore to itself it wouldn’t use the Demon Queen’s soul, but it had beaten death enough, so it decided to risk it. It grasped her and asked, Why do you hate the God of War so? How has he wronged you?
Vergozza didn’t answer in words. She just opened up her mouth and vomited forth the images of thousands, no millions, of dead. It instantly understood that these were the victims of war that she’d taken from the battlefield over the centuries and that she blad him for that. However, even in that instant, its failing revenant lost the remainder of its skull to that mont of distraction, and it felt its control over its body slip noticeably. Any mont, it would lose the last bits of bone and fall to the ground, helpless and useless.
Instead of worrying about that, it said, Your grudge is powerful. Help defeat Argandin!
The Death Goddess’s rage boiled out of her like a dark mist. I will unravel the souls that make up his bloody blade… I will strip him of that unearned armor and—
No, I don’t want you to weaken him, it countered, affronted at the idea. It wanted to win, but not by crippling the man. Strengthen instead.
For a mont, Vergozza balked at that. She was clearly unhappy with the idea of offering the weapon that had killed her, even by accident, any favors. Finally, she said, I would rather destroy him than destroy you, and began to suffuse the blade. Instantly, its red runes darkened, making the War God step away as he tried to ascertain what was happening.
Path of Godhood Unlocked!
The ssage surprised the sword, but it did not have ti to think much about it. Too many things were already changing, including its wielder. It was transforming before its eyes.
The flas of the weapon’s revenant darkened, then. The pact struck, the flared colder, and darker, and then inverted, devouring the skein of the world, the sa way that Vergozza’s body had when it had t her before. The new shadow form devoured the last bits of Geral into its bottomless depths, but it did not dissipate. Instead, it solidified, becoming that much more powerful.
The Ebon Blade’s wielder was no longer a flaming revenant powered by the souls of dragons, but a shadow given substance by a goddess’s soul.
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