《Bloodstained Blade (Gamelit, Sword MC)》 Ch. 1 - Nothing +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force The words faded slowly into existence, though they held no meaning. It took longer for that to happen. At first, they were just a different shade of darkness from the oblivion that surrounded it. They were dark gray on the black void, but slowly they kindled into something more substantial and reintroduced color to the world. Well, one color at least: red. +1 Life Force Eventually, it figured out something else, too. If the words existed, and the energy paired with them surged through it with each new announcement, then it had to exist too, didn¡¯t it? Who am I, though, it wondered. Unfortunately, there were no easy answers to that question, and groping around in the dark accomplished nothing. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force The messages prodded it incessantly, preventing it from going back to sleep. That was annoying, but it was only when it had that thought that it understood that there was a state of existence called sleep in the first place. +1 Life Force The state of being unaware and insensible to your surroundings. Huh. I think I much preferred that to whatever this is. +1 Life Force It didn¡¯t know what this was, though, or even what it was. Its mind felt half asleep still, and only the insistent jolts forced it to slowly come awake against its will. +1 Life Force All it knew was that every few seconds, it impacted something. It was a distant sensation that it had to concentrate to feel beneath the rush of energy because the two were almost always in sync. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force Sometimes, that something was hard and unyielding, and sometimes, it was warmer and softer. It was only on those second impacts that the annoying message reappeared. +1 Life Force Each message was now accompanied by a faint jolt of feeling that it could barely feel through whatever it was that it was encased within. But what was it, and where was it? Those were good questions, but they had no ready answers. It reached out to that feeling of impact, but there was nothing else there. It was either being struck or it wasn¡¯t, and when it wasn¡¯t, there was nothing at all. No, not nothing at all. It slowly dawned on it that he was being held. Not where it was being struck, but at the other end. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force For a time, it just existed, enjoying the feeling of warmth as it slowly thawed out and it tried to tease out this mystery. What was struck on one end but held on the other? It asked itself. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force Life Force Full Life Force Full Life Force Full Then, just like that, it was gone. That thin trickle of joy stopped as suddenly as it had started. Instead, it was replaced with a different sort of message, but this one was empty, and without that thrill of energy it had grown used to. It was being warned that it was full? What did that even mean? As it asked that question, a window appeared, floating in the ether. Life Force: 20/20 Twenty? Twenty what? It asked itself. Is that a little or a lot? It answered itself almost immediately. It had to be a lot because it was full, which meant that it was all there was. But what was it for? As if in response to its question, a second window appeared. It was larger than the first.
Repair Soul: 500 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Share Senses: 100 Life Force Improved Siphon: 50 Life Force Increase Reserves: 20 Life Force
While it considered what these strange words might mean, the warning message continued to pester it. However, it wasn¡¯t quite sure what to do about that. It took longer than it should have to realize that only one of the options even seemed to be possible based on the current numbers as it understood them. As soon as it selected Increase Reserves, it instantly saw its Life Force shift from 20/20 to 0/40. For a moment, it panicked as a chill of lost power washed over it, leaving only emptiness behind. However, no sooner had it started to worry that it had made some sort of terrible mistake than the steady pulse of warmth returned as that pesky warning message stopped. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force This time, it didn¡¯t take nearly as long to figure out the link between the messages and the numbers. Something was feeding it a trickle of irregular energy, and when it reached its maximum, that energy stopped for reasons it did not fully understand. This time it was ready, though. Despite the fact that Increase Reserves 2 had increased to 30 Life Force, it was still going to get it, because it was all there was to do. This time, as soon as it reached 30, it triggered it so that it wouldn¡¯t get that warning again and miss out on this delicious flow. All of its energy vanished in an instant, but it was rewarded once more with an increased maximum. Life Force 0/80 +1 Life Force +1 Life Force There was no way of knowing whether the small jolts of Life Force would be seconds or minutes apart, but it was determined not to waste anymore by being too full ever again. It wasn¡¯t quite greed that drove it. It was a need. It needed this power, though it did not know why. The need that it felt was too bad to ask why. Each time its Life Force total dipped back towards zero, it could feel a terrible hunger welling up inside of it once more. Hunger - the need or desire to be fed, flitted through its mind. That felt about right, though it had another association with feeding¡­ for a moment, memories of a table laden with dishes and something called food flickered before it, but they were gone again, even as it reached out to it. +1 Life Force Still, despite an almost compulsive need to watch the number rise and feel that warmth build, it forced itself to look at the other menu. It had already made the best use of its Life Force. Now, it needed to make the best use of its waiting time.
Repair Soul: 500 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Share Senses: 100 Life Force Improved Siphon: 50 Life Force Increase Reserves 3: 40 Life Force
+1 Life Force +1 Life Force At the moment, it only had 6/80 Life Force, but that number would rise inevitably, and it would need to be ready when it reached the next critical number. What would that be, though? Three of its choices were still out of reach, but this time, there were two choices instead of just one. Would it choose the ability for 40 or the other ability for 50? Was there a difference? There had to be if they were named differently. So, which one was better? You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. +1 Life Force It flicked its attention to Improve Siphon since it hadn¡¯t tried to select it before, and instantly, a small explanatory message appeared as if by magic.
Improved Siphon: Your hunger increases. Each blow now drains from 1 to 3 Life Force.
Triple the Life Force? It thought, practically trembling at the thought as it wondered what getting three Life Force at once would even feel like. That had to be the winner, of course. Still, it checked on Increase Reserves 3, just in case.
Increase Reserves 3: Though you can never truly be sated, you can contain more. You can always contain more. Increase maximum Life Force to 150.
+1 Life Force +1 Life Force It was slightly disappointed to see that. It had expected the number to be 160 and somehow felt cheated that it was smaller than expected. This only doubled its certainty that Improved Siphon was the way to go. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force This time, it felt like it had to wait longer. Not just because 50 was a larger number, either. Whatever it was that was randomly rewarding it with this energy seemed to be slowing down. It had only taken a handful of minutes to achieve the first two levels of reserves, but it felt like more than twice that long to get the 50 it needed for the next step. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force Then, suddenly, just when it worried it might be stuck at 49 forever, the Life Force gauge rolled over to 50. It instantly selected the option it had been waiting for. Suddenly, it felt cold and empty, and just as suddenly, it had a new ability, and the menu had been populated with Improved Siphon 2: 75 Life Force. While it contemplated all of that it was stopped in its tracks by a blast of energy that was twice as powerful as any that came before it. +2 Life Force It had just enough time to wonder why it had only received 2 energy instead of 3 when it was hit by more jolts. +3 Life Force +1 Life Force From 1 to 3, it thought, remembering the wording on the ability. So it¡¯s not triple¡­ it¡¯s random. Random was another new word for it, but it filled the concept away as it focused on the more immediate issue. On average, the new power would double the amount of energy it had been getting, not triple it as it had first though, it realized, not quite sure how it had come to that conclusion. Still, it kept its thoughts simple, bracing itself for more energy. Only, that¡¯s not what happened. Instead, suddenly, something pulled away all six of the energy it had stored up. Then, it sat there at zero for some interminable length of time. No, sitting at zero wasn¡¯t right. Energy was coming to it; it could feel it, but even as it had barely registered it, it was immediately siphoned away somewhere else without even showing up as an alert. It was incredibly frustrating, and for several long minutes, it was certain that it was being toyed with, even if it still wasn¡¯t precisely certain who or what it was, or why it was alone in the dark. Such a statement raised several uncomfortable questions, though. Who was it to be toyed with, and who might be the one doing the tormenting? Hells, even more important than the question of who was how? It still felt the impacts. Hard. Soft. Soft. Hard. Soft. Something was still happening, but the chain of causality that it had come to expect and rely upon was broken. It floated there in the void stewing, and wondering what it was that determined what it was and was not allowed to get. Had something noticed that it had grown too powerful and decided to stop it? Something deep inside it began to boil with anger at the very thought that anyone would ever stand in its way. I will never bow to the will of another, it raged, surprised by the strength of the emotion. It tried to dig deeper into that, sure there must be a reason that it had felt this way, but it didn¡¯t find any memories to explain the impulse. It was just one more mystery to add to the pile. This continued a little while longer. Then the blows stopped altogether. After that, it was left alone in the void with only the menus for company. It reviewed the other options it could not yet afford and found that all of them raised some interesting questions, but it was hard to care about those questions too much when its whole world was slowly grinding to a halt as it froze solid without any Life Force feeding it.
Share Senses: The world is a large place, and you are but a single part. See the world that you are feeding off of to better understand the struggle. Empower Blade: You are more than just steel. All you need to do is manifest your true nature. (one of several options will be chosen upon selection) Repair Soul: Do you even know who you are? This option will attempt to repair your broken soul. If you are successful, you may finally let yourself understand why all of this is happening.
Those words floated there before its uncomprehending sight for several minutes, slowly losing their color before they finally disappeared entirely as the world went dark. After that, it ceased to be once more. It had no idea how much time had passed before it was awoken again. It simply ceased to exist until it slowly came to the surface once more, sometime later. Once again, it felt not just the blows but the Life Force that was supposed to accompany them again. That wasn¡¯t the indicator that haunted it, though. That was floated there, in midair before it dominating its field of vision is a pale red that was slowly fading to a darker gray. Life Force: 0/80. Zero. It was the most important number in the world, and nothing it could do would change it. +2 Life Force +1 Life Force +3 Life Force +3 Life Force +2 Life Force It was less of a flow and more of a tide this time. In seconds, it went from oblivion to wide awake as it drank in the new flood of power. It was stronger than before and more insistent, but it still wasn¡¯t enough. +2 Life Force +1 Life Force It waited for minutes, letting its total accumulate. It thought about trying to save some, and hold it in reserve to prevent whatever had just happened from happening again, but it couldn¡¯t. The risk that its power might be stolen away again was even worse than the risk that it might run out. As soon as another +2 brought it to a grand total of 76, it used 75 points to bring it to bring its Improved Siphon ability to level 3. Just like that, instead of getting 1 to 3 Life Force in each jolt of power it received, it was getting 3 to 5. Its old maximum was now its new minimum, and it gloried in that. +3 Life Force +4 Life Force +4 Life Force +5 Life Force +3 Life Force
Improved Siphon 3: your hunger increases. It is a palpable thing. Increase Life Force drained per blow from 3 to 7.
+5 Life Force Even after it spent 75 though, it was already back above twenty and rising. Now that it was gaining Life Force so quickly, it needed to wait less than a minute before it could afford Improved Siphon 3. +3 Life Force +4 Life Force +3 Life Force +5 Life Force At only a hundred Life Force, it considered that a bargain and selected it as quickly as it could. It was almost having trouble spending the points faster than they were coming in now, and items were selected on impulse instead of planning or deliberation. +6 Life Force Increase Reserves 3 was purchased almost instantly for 40 Life Force to increase its Life Force Maximum to 150. That ability was replaced in turn by Increase Reserves 4. In the space of a few minutes its Life Force reservoir was increased in size from 150 points to 300 points. Suddenly, it felt like it could contain all the power in the world. Indeed, it was tempted to hoard as much as possible in case it ever stopped flowing again like it had so recently. As it had twice, it corrected itself. It had woken up the first time from a similar stupor. Arguably, for it to forget everything before that point, it had probably been asleep for quite some time. +4 Life Force How long would it take to forget who or what I am? It wondered. Have already had to get these abilities before? If I have done all this before, then what¡¯s the point? They were good questions, but the only clue it had to that were the words of the abilities that were still too expensive to select. It had a broken soul, and it seemed like it might be important to do something about that, though it would take a bit longer to reach that pinnacle. +3 Life Force +7 Life Force Its choices were getting simpler as its priorities became more straightforward, but they were growing more costly, too. No matter how much it wanted to further increase the power flowing into it or grow its strength, it first had to understand what was happening to it. It could not continue to make intelligent decisions in a vacuum. Share Senses had to be the next objective. That was the only way it could figure out what was going on, and right now such knowledge was more valuable than even its precious Life Force.
Share Senses: 100 Life Force Increase Reserves 5: 150 Life Force Improved Siphon 4: 200 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Repair Soul: 500 Life Force
+5 Life Force +6 Life Force It no longer took much time to get to 100 Life Force. Even when the flow stopped for a time and very briefly reversed around 63, it stayed calm and waited patiently to reach its goal, and after several more minutes, it finally got there. +3 Life Force The last few times it had selected a new power, it merely felt weakened or cold as it poured out all the energy that came into it. Nothing else had changed. This time, though, everything was different. This time, the darkness that had blinded it until now, limiting it to its own thoughts, fell away to reveal a wider world that had only suspected the existence of until now. It was no longer a prisoner to the darkness. Instead, it was completely overwhelmed by the moment as colors, shapes, and sounds sprang into existence. A moment ago there had been only its thoughts echoing through its lonely mind, a few barely changing menus, and the feeling of a distant impact that was usually accompanied by a burst of Life Force. Now, there were screams of dying men, battle cries, and the sound of steel ringing out against steel. It was overwhelmed by the sudden burst of sensations. Ch. 2 - Something It had already discovered red. Now, there were other colors, too, but it was red that dominated the world that had been thrust upon it. Red was the color of the ruby in its hilt, and the blood that dripped off of its blade. It was also the color of its enemies, at least in part. Behind them were was the gray of the cliffs and the blue of the cloudless sky, along with the brown matted fur of its savage, bestial opponents, but it was red that outshone them all. It was pooled beneath the bodies that surrounded the man who wielded it, and it was splattered across those who still managed to face him. Most importantly, though, it covered the sword that beheld all of this. +5 Life Force And what was it? It was a sword, with a deep black blade. Its edges were dull and notched in places and a grey rust like coating covered parts of its blade in ugly, blotchy patern, but there was no mistaking that it was a weapon. It was the one that was beholding all of this. It could see everything in all directions at once, but only with any clarity for a few feet. After that things started to blur, and in the distance, the mountains, or at least what it thought were mountains were no more than smudges. Why should I know what a mountain is? It wondered. I¡¯ve never seen one before, have I? Something about that didn¡¯t make sense to the blade, but there was no denying the reality as it took everything in, just as there was no denying the energy it absorbed from the blood that flowed down the runed channels that led along the flat of its blade toward the throbbing square cut ruby in the pommel. +3 Life Force Now that it could see what was happening, everything made sense. That was where the warmth and the Life Force were coming from. It was coming from its enemies and their blood. Each time its wielder thrust it through the still-beating heart of an enemy, slashed it across their chest, or sliced off a limb in a spray of gore and viscera, the energy that made that up evaporated like a fine mist. However, not all of it escaped. Before that fleeting burst of essence could evaporate, some of it was absorbed by its blade. Every time that happened, the large ruby that was inset into its pommel glowed with an inner light. Each of those strikes felt different, too. It Could feel the deliverance between the way flesh and fat cut vs deeper muscle. It could also feel the way its blade grated against the bone. Even if it hadn¡¯t been able to see its enemies, it might have been able to say how strong they were just from the way it felt to cut them open. +4 Life Force +6 Life Force The fact that it was a sword wasn¡¯t a surprise was in itself a surprise to it, but that wasn¡¯t enough to distract it from everything else that was going on. There was simply too much to take in to worry about such details. It didn¡¯t matter that it was a sword or even that it was being wielded inexpertly. What mattered was the pace of the fighting going on all around it. The man who wielded it seemed a little weak to have shed so much blood. He was a youth who¡¯d probably never had to shave hair from his chin. He was dressed in the bloody rags of a shepherd, not the armor of a fighter. He was no true warrior, and the sword felt dirtied to be wielded by such a scrawny young thing, but it had no say in the matter. It could barely influence the path the boy swung it on, though it did try, almost unconsciously to do so. +5 Life Force Still, beastmen that beset the two of them on all sides didn¡¯t seem particularly tough. Oh, they roared and screeched and glared with their strangely slitted goat eyes; individually, each of them was stronger than the shepherd or whoever it was that currently wielded it. However, they were only four feet tall, with weapons of wood and bone that could not parry even a single attack from its powerful, dark blade. No, not dark, it realized. Ebon. That wasn¡¯t a color. It was a name. It wasn¡¯t a sword, it was the Ebon Blade. That name meant nothing to it, but it was sure that it belonged to it, and compared to it, the entire tribe was less than nothing. +5 Life Force +7 Life Force Its wielder moved like a man possessed, and the sword was certain that was due more to its strength than its wielders. It might not have unraveled the mystery of its existence, but it was sure that the sweating young man and his quivering muscles could never have killed half so many without its magic to guide his hand. How did that work? It wondered. Am I lending him strength too, or just my skill? It did not know. Perhaps one of the abilities it hadn¡¯t picked yet would give it insight into that. Empower Blade seemed to be a likely option, but it couldn¡¯t afford that yet. +3 Life Force +4 Life Force Even against its power, not every blow could be stopped. Not when it was one man alone against nearly a dozen opponents simultaneously. No matter how its wielder whirled and danced as he lost himself in the bloodlust, something would make it through. Sometimes, it was an arrow that embedded in his unarmored chest, and other times, it was a spear that made it under his guard. It didn¡¯t matter to the wielder, though. To him, each of those blows vanished in moments. As soon as the weapon left the flesh, or the arrow was pulled out, the mark it left behind healed completely with only the slightest scar. It was another aspect of its magic that it did not understand. -3 Life Force Its wielder was stealing its Life Force to keep itself alive, the sword realized slowly. That was a better reason for what had been happening than pure capriciousness, at least. Until now, it had thought that something was denying it the power it craved just to keep it from getting stronger. This made more sense. My wielder has to live, or I am useless, it told itself, even if it didn¡¯t really believe it. It cared nothing for the man that held it. What didn¡¯t make sense was the fight itself. The blade could see the swirling melee, but there was no indication as to why the fight was happening. Why was a lone shepherd in such a rugged, dreary place? How did someone so unworthy come to possess such a powerful weapon? There were only mountains and cliffs, along with a single cave. Where was his flock? Why was he surrounded by so many beastmen? Where did they come from? +6 Life Force The blade wasn¡¯t sure if it was the lingering confusion of escaping the darkness, but it didn¡¯t have the best sense about any of these things. Also, more irritatingly, after less than a dozen feet, the blade¡¯s vision blurred. It had a perfect view of the battles at hand from any angle it chose to view them, but beyond that, things fell off rapidly. There was a wider world, but the blade cared only for the fight, and its wielder at the center of it. So, that didn¡¯t matter too much to it. +5 Life Force +5 Life Force What did matter was why the man seemed hell-bent on holding this ground against overwhelming odds. He didn¡¯t charge the enemy, nor did he flee from them. He just stood there like an ocean breaker fighting an endless battle with the tide that did not seem likely to end any time soon. It was a recipe for suicide if ever it had seen one. Lost causes can be their own reward, its mind whispered. It tried to follow that impulse, and understand where it had come from, but before it could, the battle tore its attention away. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. +7 Life Force The sword didn¡¯t mind that. It would gladly drink in blood and pain; it just wished it understood. Briefly, it worried about what would happen if the peasant-turned-berserker were to fall, but that faded as soon as it realized that one of the beast men would quickly pick it up instead. In fact, it realized that might be preferable. It could still see a look of discipline on the face of the man, but one of the maniacal goat men seemed likely to fly into a boundless rage and kill everything in sight, including his own kin, which would feed it Life Force that much faster. +3 Life Force +7 Life Force +4 Life Force +3 Life Force That observation was confirmed only a moment later when it heard someone call out, ¡°Ren, come on, we have her, it¡¯s time to go!¡± +5 Life Force The blurry shape of a man ran toward the swordsman, and he almost lost his life for it. Before its wielder could even see the man, he whirled around, and it was only with great strain that he managed to stop the blade before it beheaded the blond newcomer. The second man was no warrior either. He was just another young peasant with a bloody dagger in his hand. Since the sword would not get to taste his lifeblood either, it had to content itself with the look of fear in the shorter man¡¯s eyes as he thought he was about to die. He didn¡¯t, though. Instead, Ren, who was apparently the sword wielder, made a fighting retreat. He kept fighting, but now they slowly backed away from the rocky cliff he¡¯d been facing off against, they moved passed a cave entrance, and back into a canyon. There were fewer beastmen here, and the Life Force that it drank in slowed to a dribble. The sword took the opportunity of the lull to drain its nearly overflowing pool of energy. Even if the fighting was about to end, it didn¡¯t want to waste a drop. When it flipped to its menu, though, what it found surprised it. It had upgraded Share Senses most recently, but unlike every other ability so far, it had not been replaced by a more advanced ability of the same name. Instead, there were now two abilities where one had been. The sword flipped through both, and the differences were immediately made clear. Increase Senses gave it a better view of the world around it, presumably reducing the blurriness and expanding its view, while Increase Connection gave it more insight into the person who was wielding it. Both of those seemed important, but neither of them seemed as important as Improved Siphon.
Repair Soul: 500 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Improved Siphon 4: 200 Life Force Increase Senses: 150 Life Force Increase Connection: 150 Life Force Increase Reserves 4: 60 Life Force
So, it spent 200 Life Force, bringing its total all the way down to 34. It felt empty, then, but it did not regret the choice. All that mattered was growing strong, and that meant soaking in as much energy as possible from every conflict. This was the blade¡¯s first upgrade since it could see itself, and it saw the dull, worn away runes that stretched from the gem toward the tip along the flat of the blade waver as the blade lengthened a bit. It wasn¡¯t an obvious change, but it was clear what was happening, at least to it. I¡¯m restoring myself, one upgrade at a time, it realized.
Improved Siphon 4 The pulse of the world beats all around you. Drink deeply, but know it will never be enough. Increased the Life Force drained per blow from 5 to 11.
Suddenly, just like that, the weapon realized that it might get as much as two or three times as much power from every strike going forward. Sadly, the beastmen did not chase the two of them for very long, as the monsters regrouped. So, it didn¡¯t seem likely any more blood would flow for now. Its wielder seemed to have no interest in attacking the other human, which was frustrating because the blade was sure his Life Force was even stronger than the monsters it had tasted up until now. It could feel it throbbing inside of him as his little rabbit heart raced from exertion and fear. Instead, when the two of them got far enough away from the beastmen, they met up with two other humans who with a group of horses. From there, it was sheathed, and the four of them started to ride as fast as possible. Its vision became dimmer still when it was placed into a sheath. Even in that fog, though, its wielder was still sharp and bright, and the other seven life forms near him throbbed with energy in time with their pulse. The young man didn¡¯t seem like he was about to slice this group to ribbons either, but the sword wanted him to. It willed him to draw it and strike them down without much success. It would apparently have to get Increase Connection to make that happen. The sword had wanted to increase its reserves and then increase the amount it siphoned even more, but that might have to be put on hold; if its wielder was going to lose interest in fighting then it was going to have to take control. ¡°Hurry up,¡± the man who had escorted them here said. ¡°They¡¯re coming, they¡¯re coming!¡± the other screamed. The girl said nothing, quite sensibly, since it was easy to see, even with the sword¡¯s flawed perception, that nothing was getting close. It was true that there were a great many fuzzy dark spots chasing them, but they were distant and indistinct. They hadn¡¯t been able to keep up with the short legs of men, and they would quickly fall behind the powerful strides of the horses that the men now rode. It had not been mounted before, to the best of its knowledge. However, there was something to the steady rhythm of the gallop that stirred its memories. It was certain it had experienced this sort of frantic motion at some point in the forgotten past. Life Force: 34/300 -1 Life Force The message surprised it. Last time, it had just slowly faded into non-existence when it had run out of energy, but apparently, this time, it could stay awake as long as it still had reserves. How long would 35 Life Force last? It had no idea. Minutes? Hours? Days? Honestly, it wasn¡¯t really sure how long those were any more or even why it knew the names of various measurements of time. While the four of them rode for their lives, it calmly contemplated the situation. First, it examined itself, and when it determined that it only lost a point every twenty or thirty minutes, it examined those around it as best it could, determining the optimal order to kill them in. All of the horses, and most of the humans seemed to be in fine shape, but it could sense that one of them was wounded and bleeding out his lifeforce slowly from a wound to his abdomen. What a waste, the blade thought, wishing that it could drink that power instead. It was only after that, and after the horses had been slowed to a walk so that they could rest, that it paid any attention to what the four of them were chattering about. -1 Life Force How long had it been? It wondered. A Half hour? An hour? ¡°But we can¡¯t go back to the village,¡± the woman said sadly. ¡°None of us can, not ever again. You know we can¡¯t. They¡¯ll know that you rescued me and ruined the sacrifice. We can¡¯t hide that!¡± ¡°Who wants to hide it? Screw ¡¯em!¡± Ren spat in content. ¡°They tried to sacrifice you. They can burn for all I care. Not just the elders either. Everyone. Every man and¡ª¡± ¡°They might burn, though,¡± the outline of one of the other young men said. ¡°With no sacrifice, the tribes will attack, and if that happens... Well, they should be warned at the very least.¡± ¡°But if you go there to warn them, they¡¯ll kill you!¡± the girl whined, in a tone that indicated she was already crying gently, even if it could not see her tears. ¡°I¡¯m not letting my brother die just because he saved his sister.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± Ren volunteered. ¡°If they try to stop me from leaving after, well then I¡¯ll just have to show them just what this baby can do. That will settle any arguments pretty quickly.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± the third boy said. ¡°That¡¯s the cursed blade from the stories. Everyone will recognize it, and if people see you with it, they¡¯ll call the witch-hunters. It was very useful for saving Vara, but you really should put it back before we ride further south. If you don''t then¡ª¡± ¡°Back?¡± Ren laughed. ¡°Back? There¡¯s no way I¡¯m putting this thing back. With this blade, I can finally stop being a nobody in the middle of the Kaladian wastes and start being somebody. We all can. We can sign up for the guild and¡ª¡± ¡°Stop, Ren. Will you just stop, okay?¡± Vara sobbed. ¡°I¡¯m not killing anyone. None of us are, okay. We¡¯ll find somewhere quiet far from here to settle down and rebuild our lives. We can find some work to get us through the winter, and then in the spring we can¡­¡± After that pronouncement and the fact that its sorry excuse for a wielder didn¡¯t argue the point further or strike her down for her insolence, the blade began ignoring them as it plotted its own plans. Clearly, its wielder had at least some spine. It just needed a way to convince the boy to follow his dream and leave the rest of this dead weight behind. It didn¡¯t care who or what the lad killed as long as he was killing. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force -1 Life Force That night, the small group stopped and sheltered behind a rocky outcropping in the grassy foothills. The state of their camp made it clear that they had not planned this adventure well. Only one day out and they were already low on water, low on food, and the four of them were forced to share a tent. The sword tuned out all of their insipid conversations, at least until the group started talking about it again, along with the ruins it had apparently been imprisoned in until recently. Those were topics that finally made it pay attention. It hungered for every clue about its own existence almost as much as it hungered for the Life Force of the small group huddled around the campfire. Ch. 3 - Everything Ren sighed as he set the sword aside and reached back to get a few more of the sticks they¡¯d gathered for the failing fire. ¡°The temple? There hasn¡¯t been anything holy about that place since the time of our grandparents'' grandparents'', Mardem. You were there, man. You know how ugly it was,¡± Ren told his friend as it fed the fire slowly. ¡°Vara doesn¡¯t need to hear that shit. No one does.¡± Life Force: 19/300 The sword had used up almost half its reserves, and unless there was a battle during the night, it would likely lose power again sometime after sunrise. It could do nothing to change that though, so it did not fear it. It would wake once more when the fighting started, and in a place this desolate, bloodshed was inevitable. Instead, it merely listened while the small group finally cajoled its wielder into sharing what little he knew about its origins. ¡°You have to understand. There were a lot of goblins,¡± Ren started. ¡°Like¡­ Even more than we thought there would be. My parents always told me the place was infested, but¡­ there had to be hundreds. We fended them off with torches mostly at first, because they¡¯re afraid of fire.¡± The boy told the story about how he and Mardem had decided that after Vara had been chosen by the lottery, the two of them had decided that only the Ebon blade would give them enough strength to fight off the beastmen that would be drawn there to save her. ¡°It was my idea,¡± Mardem bragged. ¡°I¡¯m the one that remembered the cursed blade was even still there in the sanctum.¡± -1 Life Force ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯m the one that cut us free of the goblin ambush,¡± Ren bragged, leaning forward. ¡°I slew them by the dozens!¡± ¡°The sword slew them,¡± Mardem said with a shake of his head. ¡°You were just holding it. If I¡¯d been the one to squeeze between those bars, then I¡¯d be the one wielding it right now, and¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s mine,¡± Ren said with a feral note before he remembered himself and relaxed. Several things became clear to the sword at once during that exchange. The first was where the initial burst of Life Force had come from and why it stopped, the second was that these two boys seemed to be friends used to a bit of healthy competition, and the third was that they both seemed to be vying for the pretty young woman that was seated across the fire from them. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force Only the fourth member of their group seemed to have no interest in the girl, which obviously made him the brother that she had mentioned earlier in the evening. He sat there quietly, trying to cope with the pain of a not-so-minor wound. Since no one else appeared worried, the boy¡¯s efforts to hide it were paying off. Still, the sword could see right through the thin, gauzy clothes that the boy¡¯s outline wore. There, it could see the boy¡¯s energy leaking out one heartbeat at a time, and it was obviously too serious a thing to hide for long. He won¡¯t make it more than another day or two at this rate, the sword thought as it studied the problem, wishing it could soak up the boy¡¯s dwindling life energy instead of letting it leak into the hasty bandages. -1 Life Force The two boys both clearly wanted the same girl, and the longer they told the story about the battle with the goblins and, later, the beast men, the clearer it all became to the sword. It was almost as plain, at least to the weapon, that she liked the boy who had fought with bravery instead of the one with the cursed blade. It wondered just how long it would be until its wielder figured that out, and decided there was only one way to solve that issue. It wished that it could have whispered the secret to him. Unfortunately, his mind was somewhere beyond the weapon¡¯s reach. None of them seemed to know why the Ebon Blade was cursed or why it had been secured in such an unimportant shrine, so far from the rest of the world, but it had been. Its only real clue was that apparently it had been there since the time of their grandparents'' grandparents'', which would have been nearly a century. The boys both mentioned murals that might have given it some answers. Unfortunately, neither of them had bothered to study them, much to its frustration. To them, it had been there so long that it had almost been forgotten about. It had become a sort of local myth forgotten by the wider world long before the temple had been abandoned and reclaimed by filthy greenskins. -1 Life Force In fact, if the annual sacrifice had chosen literally anyone else in the village besides the pretty young woman that both Ren and Mardem were smitten with, then it would likely had stayed there for decades or centuries more. It was only that sacrifice that made them act rashly, and forced them into trying to retrieve the forgotten weapon. After that, they¡¯d ridden to the site of the altar, where they found Vara¡¯s brother already there, ready to protect her as long as he could with their father¡¯s stolen sword while the beastmen began to gather. It was a touching story. Three friends had defied impossible odds to save one girl that they all loved in their own way. They¡¯d defeated dozens of goblins and beastmen, but there was nothing in any of those words that could touch in the cold metal sword. There was merely a throbbing ruby that dimmed more and more, the longer it stayed in its sheath. It didn¡¯t belong in a sheath, though. The only sheath it would ever belong in was being impaled in the body of a dying opponent. It did not yet know what it wanted beyond the death of its enemies. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Such things would take time to understand. Once it had drunk an ocean of blood and restored itself then it would know, and it would be strong enough to do whatever needed to be done. -1 Life Force The longer the four of them talked, the more it was certain that it didn¡¯t care whether any of them survived. It just hoped that if they did die, it would be the one to strike the blow. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force -1 Life Force The sword¡¯s vision was much too blurred to see the stars in the darkness, even after everyone fell asleep huddled together. By the time the sun rose, it was down to just 3 Life Force, and so it barely paid attention to the shifting colors of the horizon. It had spent the night hoping that riders from the children¡¯s village would find them and cause a bloody confrontation, or goblins might boil up from some hole for a midnight raid. Instead, everyone slept peacefully, and shortly after its wielder stirred, the darkness took it once more. . . . +9 Life Force -9 Life Force The sword had no idea how long it slumbered, but when it returned to consciousness with the powerful sensation of Life Force flooding through it. That energy was almost immediately sucked away by its wielder, who was also injured immediately afterward, but it was enough to revitalize it just the same. The man had been hit by an arrow. No, the sword realized, its wielder had been hit by several arrows. Between him and his mount, it would have been fair to use the word riddled. Without the sudden jolt of energy it had taken from the sword, he would almost certainly have been dying. +6 Life Force As soon as it looked past its injured wielder, the situation immediately became clear. The four of them had ridden far enough that the mountains were more distant now, but little else had changed. The wounded boy was still clinging to life, even as he, his sister, and Mardem rode away from the scene of a bloody ambush. It immediately became apparent who had done this, as gnolls howled and growled as they cast down their short bows and charged the injured, unhorsed boy that they expected to make quick work of. They¡¯d unleashed their ambush to great affect, and now they would feast. The sword was not impressed. The beasts were using a mixed assortment of stolen human blades that had been half rusted through along with some stone knives and axes. +7 Life Force -2 Life Force That wasn¡¯t the most interesting part, though. The most interesting part was that the wielder had figured out that he could regenerate by stealing the life of others. Instead of panicking and running with his friends, he left his blade embedded in the chest of the dying horse, putting the beast out of its misery and draining as much of its failing strength as he could while he pulled the obsidian-tipped arrows out of his flesh one by one. -4 Life Force -3 Life Force By the time the gnolls reached him, he was all but healed and waiting for them in a lazy stance with the tip of his blade resting on the ground. The sword was annoyed by this disrespectful behavior, but could do nothing to change it. It wasn¡¯t even close to powered up enough to contemplate its next ability, and nothing it could purchase would let it take control of its destiny yet. The first gnoll to leap at the wielder was sliced in half midair and was dead before it hit the ground. The blade felt the swing delay for only a moment at the spine before that shattered before its might. It was a bloody spectacle that the sword appreciated as a slow-motion curtain of blood even as it happened too fast for the other gnolls to take in before the combat was joined. +10 Life Force It was four-on-one for a moment, but shortly after that, it was six-on-one. The sword was not concerned. Its wielder was still less than ideal, but he was rested now and moved with a savagery that even these animalistic creatures couldn¡¯t match. The first one was beheaded, and then disarmed, literally, just below the elbows in the first swing. Both arms and its stone axe all fell away in different directions as the hound crumpled. +8 Life Force +6 Life Force +11 Life Force Less than a minute before, its wielder had been halfway to a corpse himself, but now, he was full of life, and the tables had turned entirely. These mongrel men were significantly fiercer than the goatmen that its wielder had faced recently, but they were still nothing compared to the Ebon Blade. +9 Life Force +6 Life Force Its wielder didn¡¯t even try to avoid every stab or every desperate rake of his opponent¡¯s dirty claws. He didn¡¯t have to. Every move was designed to murder his opponents, and if he had to get stabbed sometimes for the perfect blow, then that¡¯s exactly what he did. The blade thought he was still sloppy, and tried to help where it could, even if its ability to influence anything was limited. Still, there was no denying that he was learning and more than that, he was enthusiastic. Each enemy wasn¡¯t just killed. They were brutalized. +9 Life Force +9 Life Force +11 Life Force The blade wished that a fight like this could have lasted forever, but only two minutes later, it was complete when its wielder tossed it end over end through the back of a fleeing enemy. As a tactic, it was effective, but the sword instantly realized its wielder¡¯s mistake. The blade was no longer in his hand and, therefore, no longer under its control. +5 Life Force If the gnoll had somehow managed to dodge the attack or pull the weapon free and take hold of it, then the monster would have made minced meat of Ren. As the Ebon Blade pondered the possibility, it decided that it would not have been sorry to see the young love-struck shepherd go. +7 Life Force Fortunately for the young man, though, it died as the blade impaled the running dog man through the spine, and it absorbed the last of beast''s life. That gave it another interesting insight. It needs someone to wield it, but not to drain Life Force. It only needed to be impaled in someone for that. Despite the short fight and the relatively few victims, it soaked up vast amounts of the force in less than two minutes. Sadly, it was just shy of the number that it needed to claim Enhanced Connection. Life Force: 143/300 For a moment, it almost gave up and dumped the energy into Increase Reserves 4 instead. That would have been a mistake, though. It took the weapon half a minute to figure out why its wielder hadn¡¯t resheathed the blade and run away or even begun digging through his meager possessions in the horse¡¯s saddlebags. Instead of doing either, he started up the hill to where the ambush had occurred. There might well be a gnoll den up there. If there was, that den would be full of bitches and pups, along with a few more warriors. Each of those lives, no matter how big or small, would be thrumming with life that it could drain and put to better use. Suddenly, it gained a tiny amount of respect for its wielder. He might not be strong, but he was hungry, and perhaps, in time, the man could be taught to become the servant it needed him to be. At least, until it found a better vessel. Ch. 4 - Crossroads By the time the sword and its wielder walked back out of the shallow gnoll den to find his waiting friends, he was covered in blood. In the minutes they¡¯d been separated, he¡¯d killed everything with a pulse in the cramped, disgusting place and returned to find only fresh air and judging eyes. The slaughter he¡¯d just enacted wasn¡¯t in vengeance for hurting him or for killing his horse, though. It wasn¡¯t even because they¡¯d tried to kill Vara. The blade knew that now because the rampage had given it enough power to claim Enhanced Connection 1, letting it sense and even influence its wielder¡¯s emotions, though his conscious thoughts remained out of reach. That had cost it 150 Life Force, and removed some of the rust on its wire wound pommel. Still, despite that, thanks to all the pups that its wielder had slaughtered, it still had enough left over to spend another 60 LIfe Force on Increase Reserves 4. That upgrade had increased its pool¡¯s maximum Life Force and deepened the carved runes on its blade ever so slightly, even as it had reduced its current Life Force totals to almost nothing. Life Force: 31/500 In this case, it was the Enhanced Connection with its wielder that had paid for the second upgrade. The man had fought like a demon, without any urging at all, through the guards, the old mutts who were too old to raid that had been behind them, and the vicious bitches that had followed. However, for whatever reason, when Ren had seen the youngest members of the pack, his rage had faltered. That delay only lasted until the blade¡¯s hunger and bloodlust had been enough to tip the scales and make Ren see what the right thing to do was. A heart was a liability, but the man still had one. The blade did not, though, and it had been satisfied by its ability to influence him. Still, it was disappointed to find that when it tried to do the same thing when his friends appeared, nothing happened. Kill them all, they¡¯re only slowing you down! It raged. Save one horse for yourself and go as fast as you can to¡­ Its words trailed off when its wielder sheathed it and made it clear he had absolutely no intention of taking any more lives just now. It was a disappointing moment, considering how much it had paid for such a marginal advantage and how much more it would apparently have to pay to increase its hold on him even further. The next level of Increase Connection had revealed itself, but it was 300 Life Force, which was a significant investment, especially in this empty place with no one else to kill.
Increase Connection 2: Can you feel it? The gap between souls lessens and your grip on your wielder tightens. At this level, it extends past emotions, allowing some level of insight and influence into their very thoughts.
There will be time, it assured itself. It has only been a few days, and I¡¯ve already come this far. In a few weeks or months, he, or whoever replaces him, will be nothing more than a puppet to exercise my will. -1 Life Force Ren¡¯s friends were all surprised and overjoyed to see that he didn¡¯t have a scratch on him. Well, everyone except for Elliah. He was so pale that he was barely holding on to his reigns. It was clear that everyone knew how badly he was hurt, but it was equally clear that they could do nothing for him as he slowly died of the internal bleeding that had slowed but not ceased, and the infection that was starting to bloom within the man like a dark stain. ¡°I was so worried,¡± Vara said as she hopped down from her horse and moved to hug him. It was only when she saw just how drenched in gore he was that she held back. ¡°I thought for sure they¡¯d shot you almost as badly as your horse, but¡ª¡± For just a moment, the blade could feel he was about to confess that he¡¯d been hurt but that his sword had healed him. It couldn¡¯t let that happen and ruthlessly suppressed that urge. ¡°N-no,¡± Ren lied, ¡°Just the horse, thankfully. I fought my way free and took them out, though. These things will never¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯ll say!¡± Mardem said, pointing to his first battlefield. ¡°You chopped them into pieces so small we might as well sell them at market as stew meat!¡± ¡°I did what I had to do,¡± Ren said dismissively, looking at his blood-spattered body. ¡°Now I need to find a stream or something to wash off.¡± -1 Life Force It turned out that a stream wasn¡¯t too far, and after a half-hour walk, he was stripped to the waist and splashing himself clean. The sword spent that time wondering if its wielder realized all it would take to heal his friend would be to let him hold it for a minute and draw its lingering power out. It assumed that he had, since Ren had figured out he could heal himself with it in the same way. So, the fact that he wasn¡¯t volunteering that information to anyone was a good sign. It didn¡¯t know whether that secrecy was driven by paranoia or indifference, but the blade did the best it could to inflame that with its urgent feelings of possessiveness and jealousy. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. If you let someone else hold me, even for a moment, they will steal my power for themselves! It raged. Even though the words did not reach the man, it was certain that the feelings did. -1 Life Force Ren might not understand where the sudden strains of anger and paranoia were coming from, but he was quieter after that, and he looked to his friends with more suspicion, especially Mardem. The blade could feel the rift growing between those two in almost real-time and it was almost enough to make it salivate. Once the trust was gone, the bloodshed could start. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force The blade¡¯s energy lasted long after its wielder was clean, and the four of them spent the rest of the day riding toward the town of Tollin¡¯s Cross, which was still more than a day away. Though it did not stay active long enough to see the place, it wasn¡¯t expecting much. Apparently, it was just a speck of a village at a crossroads between two of the larger trade routes in the region. The location itself was unimportant. It was just the place where two important roads happened to cross in the middle of the plains, and create just enough traffic to give life to commerce. Their plan was a simple one, and they stayed up for hours that night worrying and fretting over it while Vara stroked her dying brother¡¯s hair as he laid his head in her lap, and the other boys promised that they¡¯d do whatever it took to see him well again. They were sure that there would be work for mercenaries, at least in such a far-flung place. -1 Life Force ¡°Just a job or two would be enough to pay for more food and the best medicines!¡± Mardem boasted, trying to reassure her. ¡°But what if it isn¡¯t?¡± she asked plaintively. ¡°He can¡¯t die from saving me. That¡¯s just too cruel!¡± ¡°I¡¯d do it again,¡± Elliah said softly, squeezing her hand. He was trying to act strong, but the blade could see the weakness growing inside him. Disease was taking hold, and the dying boy¡¯s Life Force was getting so thin and diffuse it had lost almost all interest in him. It just wanted him to finally die so that the rest of them could keep moving that much faster. They were all hungry now. The blade had always been hungry, of course, but now the four of them felt some measure of its pain there. Ren agreed with his friends, but never once mentioned that his sword could heal most of those hurts right now. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force -1 Life Force It was an amusing dilemma for the blade, and it enjoyed the rising levels of guilt it could feel coming from its wielder right up until its Life Force ran out, and the world became dark and cold once more. -1 Life Force . . . +10 Life Force When the blade returned to life, it was not in the company of a caravan as it expected or even anywhere near something that might be called a town. It was in the dark, downwind of a campfire, where Ren was slaughtering one of their remaining horses. +6 Life Force The group had not reached their destination. They had only reached a new level of desperation. +8 Life Force +11 Life Force It took one blow to cleave its head cleanly from its neck, but after that, they carved it up to get as much meat as possible. Even so, the blade only got 34 Life Force from the exercise. Life Force wasn¡¯t the point, though. It was all about the meat. They were slaughtering a lamed horse to keep going. Wherever their destination is, it must have been further than they expected, the blade thought silently to itself. ¡°Why are we doing this so far from the fire?¡± Marden asked Ren as he tried not to get himself slathered in too much blood. -1 Life Force ¡°Because we don¡¯t want whatever comes to snack on our leftovers to ambush us in our sleep,¡± Ren answered coldly, obviously not happy about this either. ¡°But if we¡¯d walked the horse to¡ª¡± Marden started to say. ¡°If we¡¯d walked the horse all the way to Tollin, then Elliah would be cold and gray before we ever got there, and you know it,¡± Ren sighed. ¡°We have to keep moving. He needs medicine. You know that Vara will never forgive herself if he dies likes this. He needs meat to keep up his strength and the attention of a healer as quickly as possible.¡± -1 Life Force -1 Life Force They talked more after that, but the conversation ceased to be of interest to the blade well before they returned to the firelight with the meat they¡¯d harvest. The boys stayed up long enough to skewer and roast the meat until it was tough as leather. It was edible, though, and that was more than they had before. Their trip was slower going after that with two of them on each of the remaining horses, but the blade stayed awake long enough to watch them reach the town at least. There, they sold one of their two remaining horses to a shady-looking man who probably cheated them. It wasn¡¯t as if they had a choice in the matter, though. They needed enough silver to pay for a healer and got scarcely more than that. Unfortunately, despite the less than generous payment, there was little the old man could do. Given how much time had passed and how severe the wound had grown, the gash caused by a filthy knife had festered into an open wound that had already begun to putrify. -1 Life Force ¡°You¡¯ll need magic. Herbs and fire only do so much. This will take more,¡± he told them with a sad shake of his head, ¡°And for magic you¡¯ll need gold, not silver, I¡¯m afraid.¡± That was news that hit them all pretty hard. Vara had promised the healer anything if only he could heal her brother, but the old man had shaken his head sadly. ¡°I did not mean to suggest that I had such talents at my disposal, miss. You may yet find a priest or a mage in one of the caravans that pass through, but I do not think that many of them would take even a body as young and pretty as yours for payment for such a thing.¡± Ren very nearly murdered the man for the comment. Even suggesting the woman that he loved was a whore was enough to make him draw his blade, but she held him back, and even the sword¡¯s relentless desire for bloodshed was not enough to make him consider cutting through Vara to get to the man that had offended him. The four of them rented a single cramped room to save money and ate horse meat instead of the stew and freshly baked bread they could smell coming up from downstairs while they talked in circles once more. The discussion was tense, but the blade ran out of Life Force before they reached anything approaching a conclusion. All they needed to do was make peace with the boy¡¯s death and move on with their lives, but none of them was willing to do that, not even its wielder. The sword found this darkly amusing, and wondered how this little melodrama would play out. Ch. 5 - Bandits +9 Life Force This time, there was neither surprise nor lethargy when the blade sprang to life in the hands of its wielder once more. Instead, there was only eagerness to find out how many victims there would be this time as it looked at the frantic world unfolding around it. +6 Life Force That the enemy was other humans this time was a pleasant surprise. Sometime between the last time it had last lost consciousness and now, its wielder seemed to have abandoned his friends and the cramped room at the inn they¡¯d shared. That was promising. He¡¯d replaced them with a small trade caravan in the middle of nowhere, and that caravan seemed to be under attack by bandits of some sort. Every one of those details just made its new circumstances better and better. +8 Life Force Where they were and what the enemy wanted was much less important than who they were to the blade, though. It hadn¡¯t tasted human blood before, and the energy that was flowing into it now, was somehow sweeter than the monsters and beasts it had subsisted on up to this point. +11 Life Force +7 Life Force From what little it could make out from its blurry view, the three wagons that its wielder had been walking along until so recently were shabby things, but it was obvious that bandits had decided to try their luck just the same. Anything worth transporting over long distances and paying someone to guard was likely something worth stealing in the eyes of desperate men. +6 Life Force The sword couldn¡¯t recall being a wielded by a desperate man before, but seeing the wind burnt skin and dented blades of these bandits triggered some sort of distant memory. It had certainly dealt with their type enough to be intimately familiar with them. +10 Life Force Given that there were only two guards that it could see, including its wielder, it should have been an easy fight for the six bandits that were even now rushing out of the tall grasses on the side of the road to ambush the wagons. Sadly, the blade doubted that it would work out for them as expected. Six on two would not be enough to stop it from bleeding any of these sinewy, hard-bitten men dry. Their steel blades could hold back its thirsty edge better than the monsters it had fought so far, and their teamwork would strike more blows against its wielder. That wouldn¡¯t be enough, though. It would only make the fight more protracted which would, in turn, only benefit the hungry blade no matter how it all turned out. Even as steel rang out against steel, another man charged Ren as he felled his first opponent with a lucky blow that cleaved through the man¡¯s trachea to the bone, the fight was already half over. Their armor reduced the strength of its impacts, but whether its tip found some unarmored bit of flesh or it had to first pierce through boiled leather, it did nothing to hold back the energy that it drained from even the smallest cut. +6 Life Force +10 Life Force +8 Life Force +5 Life Force This was a new wrinkle to the blade, and while its owners struggled to keep up with warriors who did not fall with the first sweep of his sword, it studied the effects as its opponents died from four or five smaller wounds rather than a single brutal wound. +9 Life Force ¡°This one has some kind of taint about him!¡± one of the bandits cried out. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Just a trinket!¡± another said with a chuckle of bravado. ¡°Bring him down, and maybe the boss will even let you keep it!¡± It was clear they underestimated the unarmored boy, but it doubted they would do so much longer. One corpse would become two in short order where the magic of the blade was concerned. That was when the Blade noticed Marden for the first time. He¡¯d been on the far side of the wagons, now he was pivoting around, and only barely holding his own against a single bandit with his long knife. The Ebon Blade thought about inflaming Ren¡¯s paranoia about him, but decided to hold off. It didn¡¯t want to distract its wielder just yet. Right now it had more important people to kill. +11 Life Force The sword wasn¡¯t concerned with what the men said or even how the fight went, as Ren fought like a cornered wolf. Instead, it focused on the nature of the smallest wounds the boy managed to inflict. In such cases, it could expect some bleeding or perhaps even weakness from the opponent, depending on the location. This time, though, it could see them weakening almost immediately as their skin paled and the life was leached from their bodies. Such small wounds weren¡¯t even satisfying. It barely felt them as they were inflicted. Even those tiny wounds were serious when the blade that made it sucked out a noticeable portion of their vitality. The blade had no explanation for how any of this worked. It merely studied and feasted while its enemies bled and died. As steel rang out against steel, it was the creeping dread of those wounds that ultimately won the day for its wielder, even if its wielder didn¡¯t notice. He was too busy fighting for his life. That¡¯s not what his sword saw. To it, all Ren was doing was putting his ineptitude on display. His parries were clumsy things, but his counters were all but nonexistent. It was clear to the blade that if these men had just a little more skill, he would end this day dead in the mud. As it was, he still had a chance of walking away like his friend. Mardem had finally wrestled the bandit he was facing to the ground, and he was stabbing the man repeatedly, in a frenzy. The behavior was less like someone glorying in killing, though, and more like a desperate man who was terribly worried that at any moment his opponent was likely to rise again. It¡¯s probably his first kill, the blade thought in disgust, crossing the boy off his list of perspective wielders. Any of these bandits would be a better choice than that. +5 Life Force The blade didn¡¯t want that boy as a wielder, but also, just now it didn¡¯t really want its current wielder to die. At least, not until its reserves were high enough for Empower Blade or Increase Connection 2. If one of them killed him after it had spent all of that vitality, well - then it would almost certainly prefer to have one of these other men as a stronger wielder going forward. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It preferred to get the latter so that it could start to take more control over its own destiny, but it remained to be seen how much power it would gather from this fight. The first option only cost 150 Life Force, and the second cost 300, which was a lot, even when it was draining 5 with every strike. It might even have to settle for Increase Reserves 5 instead, since that was only 150, but that would be less than optimal. +9 Life Force -3 Life Force +7 Life Force By the time it focused on the fight once more, the worst of it was over. Two bandits lay on the ground around its wielder, two more continued to fight him, and one had moved on to try to finish of Marden, and the Ebon Blade thought it was very telling that Ren didn¡¯t run to help his friend. Only one man was trying to escape, but with the way he was limping and bleeding, he wasn¡¯t likely to get far when Ren eventually chased him down. +5 Life Force -6 Life Force +10 Life Force +8 Life Force -4 Life Force The blade watched its wielder take a blow that he didn''t need to take to score only the minorest of cuts in response, only to follow that up by missing a golden opportunity to get in behind the guard of his other opponent and draw the weapon along the bandit¡¯s throat, opening his carotid and unleashing a tidal wave of blood. -3 Life Force It was embarrassing, and it was all the blade could do not to give up watching in disgust and go back to looking at the counter as it ticked toward its next goal. It didn¡¯t, though. Instead, it watched its wielder fumble until he finally managed to take down another enemy with a thrust that found a hole in the man¡¯s chain mail. +11 Life Force -2 Life Force It didn¡¯t care what the boy did as long as Life Force reached 300, but until now, it was still a few tantalizing points out of reach. It was only the last killing blow that finally pushed its total over the line. ¡°He¡¯s just one lousy brat,¡± another man called out, rounding the wagon from the far side. ¡°Bring him down, and we can finally unwrap our presents and see what these boys brought us!¡± Ren had been down to a single opponent for a moment, and the man looked like he¡¯d been about to break and run for it. However, the sight of his leader put some steel back in his spine. The blade wasn¡¯t surprised. The man was bigger than any of the bandits, and though he didn¡¯t wear much in the way of armor, he had a giant steel battleaxe. It was heavily notched, and had obviously seen a lot of use. If that thing landed, the sword doubted that even the massive store of life energy it had collected throughout this fight would be enough to save its wielder for long. It didn¡¯t even know if it could heal something like a missing limb, and it didn¡¯t want to waste the energy to find out. Still, to make sure that it wouldn¡¯t be, it immediately spent everything it had purchasing Increase Connection 2. The very last thing it wanted to do was waste any of its energy, but even if that wasn¡¯t a problem, it was happy to tilt the scales against its current wielder however it could. A man like the bandit leader would be infinitely preferable to the shepherd that held it now. What¡­ where did all that strength go? Ren wondered. For a moment, the sword was shocked that it had heard the boy¡¯s thoughts. Then it realized that was exactly what a power like Increase Connection was supposed to do. The wire wrapping its hilt wound tighter too, in that moment, making it look slightly less care worn than it had been a moment before. As it took all this in, it noticed that it had two new abilities to replace the old one.
Increase Connection 3: In an ideal world, the wielder and the weapon move as one. Only with this unity can true skill be unleashed. With this level you don¡¯t just feel your wielder¡¯s emotions and hear their thoughts, they hear yours too, completing the bond.
Increase Control: You already touch your wielder¡¯s mind, but that doesn¡¯t mean you need to be gentle. You no longer influence, but compel, though your control is neither absolute nor subtle, and your wielder can resist, it is now possible to make your will manifest.
It had little time to study its increased connection with its wielder or even wonder at the fact that the boy could feel it when it spent energy. Instead, the information about the new skills drove all other thoughts from its mind. Finally, it had found the skill that it had sought, even if it was expensive. It had been certain such a skill existed, of course, but to know and to see it were entirely different. Now, it just needed to claim it, despite the cost, and then it would finally replace the Shepherd¡¯s weakness with its strength. That might not be necessary, though, it realized. Even with its magic, the odds were against it in a battle like this, and it hoped against hope that its current wielder lost. He¡¯s too strong for you, the blade hissed, hoping to shake Ren, even though its wielder couldn¡¯t yet hear it. You have no chance. He¡¯ll kill you and then that coward Marden will flee and take Vara from you! The Ebon Blade¡¯s words weren¡¯t enough to make its wielder flee. It could feel his hand shake on its hilt though as a wave of doubt passed through him. The Bandit leader was bigger, stronger, and obviously bolder than the rest of his men. With the Ebon blade in his hand, he might well attract an army and carve out a kingdom or at least a bloody swath through the local towns and villages. The blade didn¡¯t care what he did really, so long as its hunger was sated. ¡°I-I we¡¯re tryin¡¯ sir, but his sword¡­¡± the last remaining bandit sniveled. ¡°It¡¯s an evil thing, and he has some sorta healin'' magic about him. He has a hexblade and¡ª¡± His words were interrupted by a desperate series of blows that sent the man tumbling backward over the corpse of one of his comrades. Unfortunately, before Ren could follow up and deliver the coup de grace to the man, the bandit leader weighed into the fight. He didn¡¯t roar a challenge or square off against its wielder in some way that might be considered fair. Instead, the man moved wordlessly toward Ren¡¯s blind side and swung his axe at his wielder¡¯s neck with such force that when Ren managed to duck just beneath the blow, it embedded solidly in the side of the wagon he¡¯d been using to protect his back for most of the fight. And just like that, the fight was over. The sword¡¯s instincts could feel it. It could read its opponents like they were nothing but novices. Until that moment it had practically been drooling at the certainty that the big man would cleave its wielder in two and claim it for his own weapon. However, even though the big man smartly released the stuck axe and reached to his belt for another weapon, none of those moves were fast enough to stop Ren from lashing out and opening the bandit leader¡¯s belly in a spray of entrails and blood. The second strike took the man¡¯s sword arm even as he drew a blade. He roared in pain, but Ren kept slashing and stabbing him again and again like a man possessed. He didn¡¯t stop until the body stopped twitching. +6 Life Force +9 Life Force +10 Life Force +5 Life Force After that, those who could still do so fled. Their morale was completely broken. Uncharacteristically, the blade didn¡¯t even care that all of that sweet Life Force was getting away. Instead, it seethed that the man who should have become its wielder lay on the ground bleeding out while the insignificant scrap of a boy who was motivated more by a desire to help his friends than by bloodlust or greed still held its hilt. It was a situation that was growing intolerable with each battle. At this point, nearly any opponent that Ren had faced off against would have made a better wielder than him, but this was beyond the sword to control. All it could do was grow stronger and wait for its opportunity to do more while it sheathed in silence. It would be silent no longer, it decided. It had only one way to extract its vengeance, though, and that was to poison its wielders mind with jealousy and worry with whispers. Ren couldn¡¯t quite hear them, but would definitely feel what the blade had to say. Ch. 6 - Aftermath Despite spending so much Life Force so recently, the blade still had 65/500 energy. So, it was not in danger of fading to black any time soon. As soon as it noticed its energy levels, it noticed one other change it hadn¡¯t seen before. On its menu of upgrades there was a new option that hadn¡¯t been there before, labeled Wielder Status. Is this from increasing my connection with him? The blade wondered. It knew that Ren was weak. It didn¡¯t need numbers to tell him exactly how weak he was, yet here they were.
Name: Ren Baerson Occupation: Shepherd
Toughness: 4 +2 Strength: 3 +3 Agility: 5 +2 Speed: 6 +1
Status: Normal
Intelligence: Average Willpower: Low -1
Bloodlust: Low Morality: Selfish
Martial Skill: Low +10 Armor Proficiency: None
Dodging: Low +5 Athletics: Medium
Goal: To win Vera¡¯s heart, and become a great warrior.
The ability to size up a potential wielder at a glance seemed positive, but the ability was useless, because it couldn¡¯t use it on any of the surrounding men to judge them. It tried several times to use it on the other survivors of the ambush, but nothing happened. How useless, the blade complained. I really can only see how weak my wielder is. It got the sense that the number 5 was average, though it wasn¡¯t quite sure where that impulse came from. If that was true, though, then its wielder was incredibly weak without its aid. Ren would be half as strong without the blade on his hip or in his hand. The blade studied the interface for a moment, but when it found no further value in it after a few seconds it closed it impatiently. After that it spent the next few minutes watching as its wielder split his time between bandaging the wounded men of the caravan with the shredded clothing of the dead as best he could and robbing the bandits he¡¯d killed whenever he spotted a coin purse or a bit of jewelry. Because of the dark things it was whispering about Marden and the way that Vara felt about him, he didn¡¯t go check on his friend, even after the caravan master started to bandage the other lad. It also studied the man¡¯s thoughts as much as it could. Ren¡¯s thoughts were mostly a blob of concern about how he¡¯d almost died, or concern about Marden whenever he glanced at the boy, but occasionally, other, more pertinent bits would float to the surface like flotsam. -1 Life Force I don¡¯t get it. Why would the energy just fail when I need it most? He asked himself. The Blade wouldn¡¯t have answered him even if it could have. Sometimes, I feel like the sword is fighting against me. Like I¡¯m not strong enough to wield it. These thoughts were almost enough to make it gloat, but it resisted. Like a good sword stroke, there would be a perfect moment, and it would strike then. For now, it watched and waited. The merchant thanked both of the boys profusely for saving his goods, but the words were empty. Everyone looked at Ren with suspicion now, even Marden. How could they do anything else with a glowing sword on his hip? Marden even talked to Ren about the fight afterwards. ¡°The bandits mentioned you had some kind of healing magic?¡± he asked, gesturing to his wounded arm. ¡°Any truth to that?¡± Tell him nothing or he will take your weapon and your woman. The Ebon Blade whispered ¡°Nah,¡± Ren answered, lying poorly. ¡°I just¡­ well, this blade makes me move so fast I¡¯m too hard to hit. That¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Huh, lucky you,¡± Mardem answered skeptically. ¡°So much for making money off this run then. I¡¯m going to be lucky to break even after the healer treats this.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll make it work somehow,¡± Ren answered, not bothering to mention all the coin purses he¡¯d pinched. Of course, the sword could read his mind now. It could hear him as he thought. Well, when I¡¯m the one with the money to save Elliah and you aren¡¯t, then she¡¯ll finally decide between the two of us. The thought was hopelessly naive, and it would have been enough to make the weapon laugh if it was capable of such a thing. The sword knew that even if its wielder didn¡¯t, and it quickly tuned out the rest of the conversation. It understood the deal now. It wasn¡¯t exactly sure where they were going, but that didn¡¯t matter, because in the not so distant future, its wielder and the boy¡¯s friend would turn around and go right back to the crossroads where they¡¯d left the pretty girl with her dying brother. With any luck he¡¯d be dead by the time they all got back. Once the conversation was done, Ren focused on picking his way through the dead bodies to try to find enough armor pieces that might fit him and give him a complete set to wear. The sword would have congratulated him on the practical decision if it hadn¡¯t been able to listen in on the boy¡¯s inner monologue, which was mostly concerned with how he could look tougher. He wasn¡¯t looking for the pieces that might offer him the most protection or the ones that might best suit his fighting style. Instead, he was concerned about which ones looked the coolest together. Those choices involved a helm that dramatically lowered his visibility and a breastplate that was almost certainly too heavy for him. They might make him look a little more like a warrior, but both pieces very slightly increased the odds that a warrior with enough skill to fight past the ebon blade he carried would bring the boy down. -1 Life Force Despite those poor decisions, the road continued on, and for the next day, the blade stayed awake and alert long enough to grow bored with both the bleak scenery and the insipid thoughts of its wielder. The boy really only thought about his crush, and the Ebon Blade feared it would be enough to drive it insane in time. I wonder if Vara misses me? was his most common thought, followed by his next most common thought, I wonder if she really likes Marden. That thought, at least was enough for the blade to be sure that it was having an effect on the boy. More rarely, he thought about other people when he worried about Elliah. He occasionally wondered about how the boy was doing and hoped he wasn¡¯t too late to get back and hire a healer. Between the money he¡¯d taken off the bandits and the cash he expected to be paid at the end of this, he very nearly had a gold coin, after all. If they pooled all their money, they might yet be able to afford a true priest. That thought would have been a noble one, if he wouldn¡¯t have followed it up with something awful. Because then Vara¡­ If I save Elliah then she¡­ No matter how badly it wanted to try to put this simpering, love-struck man in his place, though, the sword did nothing but feed him more poisonous ideas about his friend. It was all it could do. Wading through its current wielder''s emotional incontinence was just one more stepping stone on the path to power and control, and a limited one at that. It definitely wouldn¡¯t be craving more insight into its wielder, though. Instead, it stayed quiet and counted down the time to when the darkness would take it whenever one of the man¡¯s fellows wasn¡¯t talking about something more interesting, like just how far south they¡¯d come or just how close they were getting to Kalraka. This was a city they talked about often and the small caravan¡¯s first destination before points further south. To listen to the men that had made this route before talk, it was a wealthy town with stone walls, brick buildings, wide streets, and a small river port. It connected the muddy trails of empty Kaladian plains with the rich cities of the south, and beyond them, the ocean. Neither of the boys had ever come half so far, and they were both impressed by such tales even if the blade thought little of them. Ren¡¯s thoughts made it clear that he¡¯d give anything to keep going south when this was done, which the blade would have been happy to do, and it even encouraged when it could. It was a lie, though. In reality the boy would do anything, but give up on Vara. She was what would send him scurrying north once more after they¡¯d reached their destination. ¡°You can tell we¡¯re getting close when you start to see trees like them over there,¡± one of the teamsters said, pointing to a smudge of dark green on the horizon. ¡°But we¡¯ve passed lots of trees between here and Tollin¡¯s Cross,¡± Ren said, making the older man laugh. ¡°What, what¡¯s so funny?¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Cottonwoods are like weeds,¡± the man chuckled. "They¡¯ll always be poppin¡¯ up here an there and everywhere, but those little clusters weren¡¯t real woods, now was they? They were just places for travelers like us to get firewood on our way across the flatlands and nothin¡¯ more. Trees like that, though? Old growth? That¡¯s too far away from the mountains for the dragons to bother with, and tells you all you need to know.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying that they built that Kalraka there because it¡¯s too far away for dragons to reach?¡± Ren asked skeptically. ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡ª¡± The boy¡¯s words were skeptical, but his mind was less so. Apparently his parents had told him a thing of two about dragons. One hadn¡¯t been sighted at their village in an age, but other villages had been burned to nothing in living memory. Dragon attacks were rare, and more likely to happen to large flocks than small hamlets, but they did happen. ¡°Listen, kid, if a dragon wants you dead bad enough, there¡¯s nothing and no one that will stop it from flying across the whole damn world and ripping you into bloody shreds. I promise you that,¡± as he spoke he took a hand from the reins to wag a finger in the younger man¡¯s face. ¡°But these things - they¡¯re territorial. They fly as far as they can from their lairs¡­ they devour everything worth the trouble, and they go home again to guard their hoards. I¡¯m just saying Kalraka is too far away to bother with - that¡¯s why it''s so prosperous.¡± ¡°Well, if you¡¯re so smart, then explain to me why my village has never burned, and Tollin¡¯s Cross still stands?¡± Marden asked, trying to sound smart and show his friend up. ¡°Kid, if I had a gold coin for every time Tollin¡¯s was burned to the ground, I¡¯d have enough to quit this gig, that¡¯s for sure. The Dragons wait for it to build up nice and big like it is now, with plenty of herders coming to market and a warehouse or two to gobble up, and then one night, one of them will show up on wings of fire and devour everyone they can.¡± the man laughed again. ¡°As to your village - well, it probably ain¡¯t big enough to be worth the trouble, now is it.¡± It¡¯s not enough to be worth anything at all, Ren quipped as he silently agreed with the man. -1 Life Force ¡°What do you mean built up?¡± Marden asked again, trying as hard as he could to put this know-it-all in his place. ¡°It¡¯s tiny. It¡¯s barely¡ª¡± ¡°Whatever you say, kid,¡± the man said with a dry chuckle. ¡°It¡¯s about as big as that burg ever gets. You mark my words in the next year or two; it''s going to have a real bad day, and then after that, it¡¯s going to start all over again.¡± If this asshole calls us kids one more time¡­ Ren¡¯s thoughts came through the connection very clearly in that moment. The blade responded by channeling as much rage and anger back into its wielder as it could. It could feel its wielder pulse rising and its heart pound, but still, the boy would not draw the sword, and eventually, it relented, and the moment passed. That old man on the wagon had no idea how close he¡¯d come to losing his life. It was probably the sword¡¯s fault, though, at least this time. Its heart wasn¡¯t in it. Something about what the man had said had distracted it. The very mention of dragons had sparked something deep in the dim recesses of its mind, and the longer he¡¯d gone on about them, the more nagging those feelings had become. Talk of burning and flying had given it vivid images of a creature that it had never seen. Until that conversation, it had not even suspected the existence of giant fire-breathing reptiles. Now, while it was clear that it had some kind of connection to them, the ball of anger and sadness that was snarled in its mind was far too complex to unravel. Still, just because it couldn¡¯t get answers didn¡¯t stop it from poking at those stray thoughts until the city they were going to later that afternoon. That¡¯s when Ren announced he was turning around and heading back the other way and demanded payment from the merchant in charge for both him and Marden. ¡°We¡¯ve got a sick friend waiting on the medicine this money will buy,¡± its wielder explained. ¡°Every hour counts¡± For a moment, it looked like the well-dressed man was about to try to cheat Ren. ¡°We haven¡¯t even reached the city,¡± he complained, going on and on for such a long time that the sword could almost taste his blood. Still, realizing however unintimidating the boy might be, he had plenty of blood on his hands, the man eventually relented. After a few minutes of bitching, he pried open his purse and handed Ren a handful of silver for the two of them to split. The boy wasn¡¯t smart enough to count it, even though he should have. It was fairly sure the boy had been short-changed. Instead, he gave half to Marden, and then the two of them turned around and took off. From there, they jogged for as long as his lungs would let them before they slowed to a brisk walk. It was no secret why either, at least not to something that could listen in to his strongest thoughts. I¡¯m going to make it, he promised himself. I¡¯m going to make it and save Elliah. Then Vara will love me and¡­ It went on from there, but the blade tuned him out. It was simple as far as plans went, but the blade doubted it would go the way its wielder hoped. It wasn¡¯t sure why, but it knew that wasn¡¯t the way that women worked, and frankly, if it didn¡¯t involve blood and battle or, more strangely, dragons, it simply wasn¡¯t interested. -1 Life Force The sword spent the rest of the day, counting down the minutes until it would run out of Life Energy again and return to its slumber. So, it didn¡¯t even notice that Marden got up, and was trying to get the sword free from its scabbard without Ren noticing until the boy¡¯s hand was on the hilt. Interestingly, even though someone else held the hilt, the sword was still certain that Ren was still its wielder, even if he was asleep. It could feel the other boys soul as well, for an instant, but its remaining energy didn¡¯t flow into him. Still, the merest brush by someone new made for a strange sensation, and its mind automatically flicked to the wielder interface to see if it could grant insight into the other boy. It worked, but only for a moment. It slammed shut almost as soon as it opened as its link to Ren overpowered whatever tenuous grip Marden had on it.
Name: Marden Kellner Occupation: Mason¡¯s Apprentice
Toughness: 4 Strength: 4 Agility: 5 Speed: 5
Status: Normal
Intelligence: Average Willpower: Average
Bloodlust: Low Morality: Good
Martial Skill: Low Armor Proficiency: None
Dodging: Low Athletics: Medium
Goal: To save Elliah, marry Vera, and live happily ever after
Did that mean that the current wielder had to be killed before anyone else could claim it, or did wearing the sword trump holding it? Could it choose who it wanted to be its wielder? The Ebon Blade wasn¡¯t sure, but it didn¡¯t need to be, because it wasn¡¯t about to let this perfect opportunity go to waste. It would choose death, as it always did before. He¡¯s betrayed you! It screamed in the mind of its wielder. He¡¯s betrayed you and he¡¯s stealing your sword! It had meant that word as a ruse to draw its wielder¡¯s attention, but something about the word resonated inside it. Betrayal. It knew that word. It had lived that word. Somehow, some way it had been betrayed in the past, and even if it didn¡¯t understand how, anger flared inside it at that revelation. The blade had no idea how deep its connection was with Ren. It knew that its hold over the boy was tenuous, and it had no idea if it could even wake him up, but when it did, it was relieved. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Ren demanded as his eyes snapped open and saw that his best friend and only rival for the heart of the woman he loved had managed to pull his most treasured possession halfway out of his sheath while he slept. ¡°My arm hurts, Ren. It hurts bad, and I know you¡¯ve got¡ª¡± Marden started to answer. He didn¡¯t let go of the hilt, though, and the talking stopped when Ren rolled over to stop him from pulling it free. ¡°This is my blade!¡± Ren roared, struggling with the boy in earnest now. Within a few seconds, blows were exchanged as the two of them escalated from a misunderstanding to what was quickly becoming a life or death conflict. Marden didn¡¯t have a chance, either, not really. As long as Ren was the wielder, its magic flowed through him, and he was stronger or faster than he had any right to be, while Marden was still wounded. ¡°Please!¡± Marden called out as his friend finally flung him aside. ¡°You can keep the blade all to yourself, even if it is cursed! I just don¡¯t want to lose my arm! Don¡¯t hold out on me!¡± As his friend babbled, Ren rose to his feet, drew his sword and held his blade to the other boy¡¯s neck. The blade didn¡¯t say anything in that moment. It just held its breath in anticipation as it wondered if its wielder would finally do what needed to be done. ¡°You¡¯re so different, now,¡± Ren said finally. ¡°Ever since we rescued Vara!¡± ¡°Me?!¡± Marden shot back, very careful not to move with death looming over him. ¡°What about you? You used to be a good guy Ren. I¡¯m telling you. This blade is taking its toll on you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Vara isn¡¯t it,¡± Ren answered, ignoring what his friend said. ¡°You¡¯re in love with her aren¡¯t you.¡± This was it. This was the moment. This was the question it had been waiting so long for. ¡°No!¡± Marden lied. ¡°But none of that matters right now. We just need to help Elliah get better and then¡ª¡± First he¡¯ll take your sword, then he¡¯ll take your girl and then you¡¯ll be nothing, all over again, the sword whispered, pouring poison into its wielder¡¯s ear. Something about twisting the traitor¡¯s knife made it wince, but the blade did so anyway. It had to. It could feel Ren pulling back from the brink. It could see the tip wavering. Now that there was no danger he couldn¡¯t in good conscience commit murder. The Ebon Blade had no such qualms. ¡°Liar,¡± Ren hissed, shoving his sword deep into the chest of the man at his feet. A moment ago he¡¯d been Ren¡¯s best friend. There¡¯d been some rivalry there, but now he couldn¡¯t be trusted anymore, he was an enemy. +8 Life Force +10 Life Force Marden died with an expression of disbelief on his face, and once he stopped moving, Ren wept bitter tears at what he¡¯d done. Why did I do that? He wondered as he lay awake until dawn. It¡¯s not like me. It wasn¡¯t like him of course, but then, he¡¯d been pushed over the edge by the blade, even if he didn¡¯t understand it. In the morning its wielder rolled the corpse of his friend into the ditch by the side of the road to hide the evidence of what he¡¯d done, after he stripped the body of everything he might have use for, including the man¡¯s bandages. Apparently at some point during the night, he decided that his remaining friends would accept this tragedy better if he came back wounded, and right now getting and staying hurt wasn¡¯t his strong suit, so he was going to have to fake it. The blade stayed awake for another day and a night, but it lapsed into unconsciousness before Ren returned to the crossroads. That was just as well, because it was getting tired of listening to the boys simpering words of regret. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to do it,¡± he kept telling himself. ¡°He made me. It was Marden¡¯s fault.¡± This time it didn¡¯t find the peace it craved in sleep, though. Instead, it dreamed of the boy and his journey back to the crossroads. They were little flashes, but it was so linear that the blade was forced to conclude that they were bits and pieces of what was happening to its wielder in the real world as the emotions bled through. The sword saw him arrive in time to hire a healer and save Vara¡¯s brother, but thanks to the tragedy of Marden¡¯s terrible sacrifice it wasn¡¯t the victory that Ren hoped it would be. The boy was going to live, but Vara was more distant than ever as she mourned for the loss of the man she¡¯d obviously cared for, even if Ren was too blind to see it. That uneasy, dreamless sleeping lasted for weeks as the little group tried to eke out a life funded by odd jobs and cheap food, but it was all spiraling out of control. Once it glimpsed a pair of strange, gray robed men that it knew with a certainty were Witch hunters. It didn¡¯t know how it knew that, but it knew it would be trouble if they found it. Still, even the act of trying to reach out and warn it owner was enough to bleed away its miniscule strength and plunge it into darkness for days. Without Life Force it was completely helpless. Even after it recovered slightly, though, most of its glimpses of the world moving on without it, though, were from Ren¡¯s perspective as he tried to keep his friends happy and fed with odd jobs. Even from its strange vantage point, it knew they were going to break apart sooner rather than later. All of that was disrupted, though, when the dragon attacked the crossroads. Ch. 7 - Fire The blade had slept soundly for almost two days, with only the occasional burst of sadness or anger to rouse it when it came to life once more as Ren shoved it through the chest of a stranger to a night of blood and fire. +8 Life Force +6 Life Force ¡°Get away from our horses, or you''re next!¡± its wielder shouted. It was easy to see why everyone was in a panic to escape. The little town of Tollan¡¯s Cross was on fire, and though the world was much too blurred for it to see the monster that had done it, the word was on everyone¡¯s lips: Dragon. +10 Life Force The current situation was less clear but still somewhat understandable. Its wielder and his friends were trying to escape before they became one more mouthful for the dragon, and while Ren was trying to play the hero, he was revealing his true self to his friends; he¡¯d become a murdering Psychopath. That wasn¡¯t too much of a problem just now, though. He was in good company. The two groups faced off in a smoke filled stable full of skittish horses that were slowly filling with smoke while the sounds of screams drifted in from somewhere outside. +7 Life Force The men that had been in the process of saddling up the horses in question were an unsavory sort, and the blade would have no trouble accepting any of them as wielder or a victim. It was the tallest of that ugly group that strode forward, drawing a curved dagger and brandishing it along with a yellow, gap-toothed smile. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°That¡¯s a nice sword you got. I think it would go good with my new horse.¡± +11 Life Force Those words were the only warning that anyone got that more violence was about to happen. Ren had kept the man he¡¯d impaled on his sword held up like a human shield, so he wasn¡¯t in the best position when his buddy with the awful smile, shoved the dying man to the side, nearly disarming Ren in an effort to drive his dagger through the boy¡¯s neck. +9 Life Force If Ren had been wielding a normal sword, that would have worked, and he would be lying dead on the manure-strewn floor while these predators turned on his friends. The Ebon Blade was not a normal blade, though, and as Ren turned it, it sliced through its first victim¡¯s side before gouging deep into the second attacker with the springloaded force of its release from the previous attacker¡¯s now disemboweled body. +6 Life Force +8 Life Force That wasn¡¯t enough to stop the man with the dagger from slicing Ren¡¯s throat wide open. They both should have died at that moment, but as the thug¡¯s wide smile faded and he slumped to the ground, Ren¡¯s wound healed smoothly thanks to the amount of Life Force he¡¯d already drained from the first two men, and in moments he was fine. ¡°Anyone else?¡± he demanded loudly, from a newly healed set of vocal cords, acting like he hadn¡¯t almost died. All three of the remaining men took that moment to flee for their lives from the stables, and so Ren turned to his friends and said, ¡°All right, let''s¡­¡± His words faded when he saw the look of terror on their faces. ¡°What?¡± Ren demanded in frustration. ¡°I did what needed to be done, alright?¡± For a moment, no one responded. Then, just when the sword was sure that they might start running from him too, Elliah limped forward and said, ¡°We can talk about it later. Let¡¯s get out of here while we still can.¡± That was enough to settle things, and the three of them started leading their two skittish mounts from the stables while a dragon roared somewhere in the background. It was a terrible sound but also a familiar one, and the sword struggled to remember where it might have heard the distinctive roar. Something about the rumbling scratch of nature¡¯s ultimate predator stirred something primitive in the darkness of its mind. Before it could find answers, though, they were outside, and riding. As soon as they hit the main street, both horses were in a full gallop, charging toward safety. That was when the sword finally glimpsed the true measure of the devastation. Holy¡­ by all the divines, Ren thought as panic shot through him. He hadn¡¯t shown any fear in the previous fight, not even when he¡¯d been stabbed in the neck, but now he was obviously taken aback by the devastation he could see. Tollin¡¯s Cross was not a big town, but already half of it had been leveled, the rest of it was on fire, and there were more than a dozen nearby bodies scattered amongst the rubble. As they appeared, a giant 30-foot-tall dragon rose up out of one of the nearby buildings with a few large timbers in its maw. It devoured them before it turned toward the moving horses. Then it screeched and bellowed forth a gout of flame that almost torched its wielder from almost a hundred yards away. For a moment, the sword thought that the group had gotten away clean, which was unfortunate because it wanted, more than anything, to see the monster up close, and now even that was being denied to it. At least, that was the case until the thing stretched its wings and took flight, beating them hard as it took to the sky to chase down the meal that was trying to get away. Both riders spurred their mounts onward with a hard kick to their ribs, but there was no scenario where they could possibly outrun this beast on horseback. ¡°We should split up!¡± Elliah called over the wind from the other horse where he held tightly onto his sister¡¯s back. ¡°That way, at least one horse will¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not leaving her,¡± Ren shouted back, following the horse in front of him even as they advanced on both of them. The sword was torn. Part of it wanted the dragon to unleash another wave of fire and burn all of these simpering brats alive. The other part of it understood that it would be without a wielder then, and amidst all the carnage, no one might find it for some time. It was a terrible choice, but then, the blade did not have to make it. Instead, all it could do was watch as the terrible bulk of the dragon closed on the desperate riders. When it dived at them, there was no fire. Instead, it knocked the horses down with its bulk, sending all three riders flying in different directions as it landed in front of them. Then, it seized the second horse in its jaws, sending out a spray of blood and screams in all directions. ¡°Vara!¡± Ren yelled, pushing himself to his feet even as he drained most of the rest of the sword¡¯s life energy in the process of healing himself. The blade was down to 9/500 as he rose up and ran toward the girl. When he reached her bloody form on the ground not far from him, the blade couldn¡¯t see where the other boy, Elliah, had gone. Not that it mattered. He could have been devoured with the horse for all it cared. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. What it did care about, though, was that its wielder did the dumbest thing it could imagine. Ren pulled out his sword and pressed it into the girl''s hand. This instantly reduced the blade to zero Life Force without even healing her completely. It was enough to make her eyes flutter open, though, which was why the sword finally chose to reveal its presence. -9 Life Force ¡°Wha-at¡­ what happened¡­¡± she looked down at her blood-stained dress. ¡°Where¡¯s¡ª¡± He could have healed your brother like this at any moment, the blade whispered to her. It had thought about telling her about Marden¡¯s fate, but betrayal was more complex. It would take time for the weapon to explain, and it had no idea if those tangled emotions would be clear to her. She understood its meaning of this message at least, because Vara¡¯s eyes widened at the realization. ¡°You¡­ why didn¡¯t you do this for Elliah?¡± she asked. Gripping the sword tighter. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you¡ª¡± ¡°I just wanted to be with you,¡± he said, in a moment of wounded honesty that completely ignored the giant reptile threshing around and ripping flesh to pieces only a dozen feet behind him. ¡°I thought¡ª¡± He never finished that sentence. The blade felt a dozen thoughts and emotions go through her at that moment, but more than any other, the one that stood out was revulsion. She could never love someone that had almost let her brother die just to save his secret. The selfishness disgusted her. That level of disgust was fertile ground for the words of betrayal that echoed through the dazed mind of the wounded woman. Before she even knew what had happened, she was already thrusting the sharp tip of the blade through the chest of its former wielder, and the look of shock on the boy¡¯s face was almost as delicious as the Life Force it started to drink in once more. ¡°Vara¡­ I¡­ why¡­¡± Ren asked. +5 Life Force Sadly, as quickly as the blood left the boy, the Life Force that the blade drained fled from it and into its current wielder, healing her terrible wounds in moments. As soon as Ren spoke, and she finally registered what she¡¯d done, she released the weapon, horrified that she¡¯d hurt anyone, even him. +10 Life Force +8 Life Force There was a scream then from Elliah, and Vara stood and ran towards it, regardless of the danger, while Ren pulled the blade from his stomach with blood-slick fingers and tried to understand what had just happened. You can¡¯t save her if you die, the blade whispered in his ear. Slaughter the dragon, and she¡¯ll see you for the hero you always were¡­ The blade thought it could have done a better job with that message, but all of this was happening so quickly, and the last thing it had planned on was a dragon attack. It worked, though, and the boy gripped the wire wound hilt tighter before forcing himself to his feet for the second time in as many minutes before staggering toward his next opponent. Then, once the blade was empty of power, and his wounds were partially healed by the lifeforce that the blade had just drained from him, he charged the beast. In the distance, Tollin¡¯s Cross was still burning, but that didn¡¯t matter. It only served to illuminate the outline of the terrible dragon. That awful red light gleamed dully off the monster¡¯s mottled scales which were red bordering on black. The two dead horses didn¡¯t matter either, and neither did the fact that everyone else might already be dead. There was only one way out of this private hell, and it was with violence. At this moment, the blade and its wielder only cared about one thing, and that was murdering the giant reptile right in front of them. The boy wanted to save his girl and find his happily ever after, and the sword wanted to see the smoldering beast dead at its feet, even if it didn¡¯t know why, but it wanted it more than it had ever wanted anything before now. Neither of their motivations mattered. What mattered was that they wanted the same thing for the first time, and that made something click into place, causing the sword to glow with a dull red aura as its runes lit up for the first time that it could recall. Synchronization Achieved, +100% damage, +100% dodge for one minute. The words were as unexpected as the sensations, but the sword would wonder about those later. Right now, it was too focused on the death of the monster they faced to care about anything else. The wielder might be battered and bruised, but that was a problem that was easily remedied with a good hard sword stroke, and if the boy had nothing else, right now, he had plenty of rage just waiting to be vented. Unfortunately, despite the fact that his blade was glowing with arcane might that neither of them understood, its wielder went and did the dumbest thing he could do, again, which was becoming a pattern for the young man. It charged the towering dragon, and swung with all his might against the giant monster¡¯s body, the first blow did almost nothing. Ren thoughtlessly brought the weapon down in an overhand chop, and it deflected almost completely off its red-brown, rust colored scales. In all likelihood they weren¡¯t just rust colored. They were likely iron, or something like it covered in rust. It certainly felt like it the way that the attack did less than nothing to it. Not only did the sword get no life force, but all that Ren got for his trouble was to alert the dragon of his presence. It roared, and whirled around, even as its wielder was trying to strike a second time. This time it was a side chop that managed to work itself between two rows of mottled scales, leaving a gash that oozed black, boiling blood that looked more like tar than anything else. +7 Life Force The dragon lashed out at Ren with its near claw, striking a glancing blow that sent him tumbling. Still, somehow the boy managed to keep a hold onto the blade, and rose to his feat before the giant beast breathed the first gout of flame. That one he ducked, running back toward the giant creature with his head down, getting only lightly singed for his efforts. Go between the scales, not through them, the blade whispered in its wielder¡¯s ear, as it closed with the dragon and leaped onto its back. This time it wasn¡¯t a slash, or a chop, but a thrust, that finally struck home. The dragon roared in pain as Ren shoved three feet of steel inside the body of the burning reptile, and despite the Life Force that the Ebon Blade was absorbing, it suddenly felt the uncomfortable heat as the internal forge-like temperatures of this thing heated it to hundreds of degrees within seconds. +9 Life Force Even that didn¡¯t hurt the blade, though. It wasn¡¯t capable of pain, unlike its wielder, and as soon as the pommel heated to red hot, Ren whipped his hand a way in surprise. +6 Life Force That would be the last mistake of the boy¡¯s short life. This time when it buffeted him with its wings, he had nothing to hold onto, and when he landed in the dust and tried to rise, the dragon¡¯s long whip-like tail lashed out and folding him and half and almost certainly breaking his spine as he crumpled to the ground. +11 Life Force Normally he would have healed immediately, but this time he was without the sword, which was still just where he¡¯d left it embedded in the beast. The sword couldn¡¯t help him, but even if it could have, it wouldn¡¯t. +5 Life Force It watched the strange sychronization effect dissipate, as it eyed what was soon to be its former wielder with distaste. He wouldn¡¯t have to suffer, long, it decided as it watched the dragon rear up and prepare to breathe fire again. +9 Life Force This time its gouts of liquid fire found their mark and Ren lit up like a torch. He didn¡¯t even have time to scream. +6 Life Force +10 Life Force None of that surprised the sword as stayed wedged deep inside the dragon, almost all the way to its hilt. It wasn¡¯t sorry to see such a pathetic wielder go, and honestly, it was too interested in watching the number of its Life Force reserves go ever higher to even note the boys death. +5 Life Force What did surprise it was that rather than eating the boy, or going back to feast more on the town, it struggled briefly to remove the sword with its mouth. Then, when it failed, it took to the sky and began flying east. It was almost certainly flying back toward its lair, which was probably somewhere in the mountains it had glimpsed when it had first awoken. The Ebon blade had no idea where those might be, or what they were called. It wouldn¡¯t have been able to see them even if it was daylight. Instead it was simply along for the ride. +10 Life Force +6 Life Force +9 Life Force Did that harm its chances of being found and wielded again? Probably. It wasn¡¯t as if it had any control over that, though, all it could do was watch its Life Force steadily increase, and decided what it was going to spend those point on before the dragon found some place to dislodge it. +11 Life Force +8 Life Force Ch. 8 - Slag +7 Life Force +7 Life Force +10 Life Force As the dragon took to the sky, leaving only Vara and perhaps her brother still breathing, the sword didn¡¯t even attempt to look back into the gloom to see who had survived. Instead, the first thing it did was worry about was what to spend its surging wealth of energy on. +6 Life Force +8 Life Force Increase Connection 3: 600 Life Force Repair Soul: 500 Life Force Improved Siphon 5: 500 Life Force Increase Control: 300 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Increase Senses: 150 Life Force Increase Reserves 5: 120 Life Force +11 Life Force +9 Life Force As it looked over its options, for once, it decided not to go with Improved Siphon 5 as its next purchase. The ability was only 500, which it would have in a few minutes, but the decision was a pragmatic one. There was only so much energy that could be drained from this beast, and if it drained it too quickly, it would get less energy overall. +10 Life Force It was entirely possible that even at its current level it would drain the monster so deeply it would simply fall out of the sky between here and its destination, which would almost certainly be fatal for it. While the Ebon Blade certainly wanted to kill dragons, that¡¯s not what it wanted right now, and it certainly didn¡¯t want to do it in that fashion. +6 Life Force The right answer was to bleed it as long and as slowly as possible. Dragons often hibernated for long stretches of time after a large meal. So, it was the swords hope that it could drain the life from this giant beast for days or weeks before it passed away. +8 Life Force So, instead of rushing it, the first upgrade it had gotten, only a few minutes after they¡¯d taken to the sky, was Increased Reserves 5, bringing its total from 224/500 to 124/1000 instantly. After that, it waited only another minute before spending 150 on Increase Senses. The former upgrade made the ruby in its hilt grow a fraction of an inch longer, and the latter made the cross guards of its hilt shine a little brighter as much of the tarnish that was there vanished. +6 Life Force That wasn¡¯t an upgrade that the blade had planned to get before now. It didn¡¯t care what the world looked like outside of its reach, normally. Being this far in the wilderness, though, made it reconsider that. It could end up anywhere, and it might be there for a long time, so it had best be as prepared as possible. +5 Life Force It took hours before they finally made their way to the rocky crag of a tall peak that the dragon called home, and in that time, the blade considered its options while its seemingly limitless reservoir slowly filled up. It was somewhere below the snowline, but well above the treeline, based on the blurry impressions that the blade took in as dawn briefly washed across the world before they were plunged into the sweltering, claustrophobic darkness of the monster¡¯s foul lair. +8 Life Force +9 Life Force When they arrived, the sword knew almost nothing about dragons, beyond the fact that its past was linked with them in some way. However, the longer is stayed with this giant beast, the more that changed. Every glimpse of something new brought back pieces of tangled memories from somewhere in the back of its soul. Glimpses were easy with its new perception now. Darkness no longer bothered it at all, and it could see every detail of the ugly warren even though it wished it couldn¡¯t. +11 Life Force +6 Life Force +8 Life Force They¡¯re called furnace beasts too, he recalled as soon as he saw the way that melted metal was spattered against the walls. People think dragons have hordes and sit on piles of gold, but that¡¯s not true at all. They ain¡¯t smart like you and me. They¡¯re just animals. Not even that really. They¡¯re eating machines. They eat everything, and the stuff that doesn¡¯t burn, or get metabolized into their scaly hide like iron, well - that stuff, namely gold and silver, just get¡¯s shit out again. That ain¡¯t treasure, it¡¯s just about the most expensive bat guano in the whole world, that¡¯s all, it recalled a familiar voice telling it as half remembered stranger in its memory laughed. No, not it, the Ebon Blade realized. Some previous wielder of mine. The Ebon Blade had no idea where that voice had come from, who it belonged to, or what the context of the conversation had been. That was the most frustrating thing about these echoes. All of them asked more questions than they answered. +11 Life Force Still, it was easy to see how true it was. The walls were splattered with various precious metals that had been melted in the depths of this monster. The heart of such a beast had to be a terrible furnace. It could feel that. Somehow, it was still intact, though. The blade didn¡¯t know why that was. If the creatures truly burned hot enough to melt down iron and steel it should have been slag by now, but somehow it wasn¡¯t. It gave the idea some thought, but the best it could come up with was magic. After all, it was the magic that had been sucking at this thing¡¯s Life Force greedily for hours up until now, and it was magic that would keep doing so until this thing was cold and dead. It had already gotten several upgrades, and planned to continue doing just that as long as possible. +6 Life Force Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. When the dragon reached the cave it spent several more minutes trying to get at the sword. It gnawed at its scales like a dog with an itch, but even with its long sinuous neck, Ren had picked a spot almost directly between its wings that it could not reach. Instead, each time it rubbed against the wall it only drove it deeper in, until only the handle and the glowing ruby on the pommel remained visible. That one thrust is probably the only thing that Ren ever did right in his life, the weapon reflected. He¡¯ll probably even be a dragon slayer too, even if he¡¯ll never know it. None of that mattered to the Ebon Blade, though. By the time the Dragon settled down and curled into a ball to digest its meal, it was already deciding how to spend the giant monster¡¯s life to make it stronger. Increase Connection 3: 600 Life Force Repair Soul: 500 Life Force Improved Siphon 5: 500 Life Force Increase Control: 300 Life Force Increase Senses 2: 300 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Increase Reserves 6: 250 Life Force As it had no wielder at present, it was probably pointless to Increase Connection or Increase Control. Still, its mind twitched as it considered the second one. When someone inevitably found it up here, it wanted to be ready to seize their body for its own. Somehow, it couldn¡¯t make that the priority, though. Not when Repair Soul stuck out right there in such a tantalizing way. It was at 944/1000 Life Force now. It could choose literally anything on the entire list. It could find out how Empower Blade worked¡­ It could do anything at all, but right now, there was only one thing it wanted to know more about: itself. The moment it selected Repair Soul, it found something it hadn¡¯t been expecting: pain. It had been enduring molten temperatures for hours with no more than slight apprehension and a feeling of warmth. This, though, felt like sharp pieces deep inside it were being forced together, and it might have cried out if it had a mouth to do so with. It didn¡¯t, though. Instead, it just endured as the names of random people and places began to pour into its mind. It thought that some of them might have belonged to its previous wielders, or perhaps the same wielder at different points in his life? The blade wasn¡¯t sure; faces flashed by almost too quickly to be processed. Each time one appeared, it was only for an instant before they were replaced by another and another. It saw itself in a number of different hands. Knights, heroes, and even a prince wielded it at one point. There was a dragon. No, there was more than one, and he slew them both. It was sure of that much at least. It saw a forge, too, with mages chanting. After that, there was a man screaming in pain. Was he wounded? Was he being tortured? The blade couldn¡¯t tell. There was too much blood. The images were disjointed things, and they rushed across it like a river. It felt more than it saw, and for those few seconds the weapon blossomed with accomplishment, despair, rage, and half a dozen other powerful emotions that flew by too quick to label. Nothing could have contrasted more with the flat, life it had lived up until now, which was characterized most of the time by frustration and hunger. When it was over, it had only one name that lingered after everything else was gone, Baraga. The blade couldn¡¯t recall if that was the name of someone or somewhere, but it knew that it was important, and it clung to it, carving it into its memory as deeply as the runes that were carved into its blade. More than anything, though, it knew that its wielder had been betrayed by someone close to them. It couldn¡¯t remember who they were or what they looked like. It couldn¡¯t even remember if they were a man or a woman. Despite all of that, though, that betrayal still angered it and tainted everything else it saw. The barrage of images felt like it had taken only an instant, but the blade realized it hadn¡¯t because when it finally came to, its Life Force was full, and every few seconds, it was receiving an error instead of a number. At the rate it had been draining Life Force it would have taken at least a couple of minutes for its newly expanded reservoir to refill completely. Life Force Full Life Force Full Life Force Full Normally, such a mistake would be a catastrophic waste of resources, but in this case, it realized it might actually be a good thing. Staying full was perhaps the only way it had of letting the dragon heal to some small degree. It could already tell that the giant beast had grown cooler as the blade continued to feast on it. Life Force Full So, the Ebon Blade let it rest while it pondered on the experience it had just endured. It had not cared for it. First and foremost, that was its main takeaway. Something inside of it was very broken. If it really did have a soul it was just shards and slivers at this point, and this had only fixed whatever it was a little bit. It was still broken so completely that it was impossible to see the full shape of things. Still, if it had to guess, it was pretty sure that it had been forged to slay dragons. That had to be why it could endure this unendurable heat and make its wielder so strong that even a pitiful weakling like Ren could fancy himself a real warrior. Why would that lead people to say I was cursed and lock me away, though? The blade wondered as it remembered the boy¡¯s words. Dragons yet exist, so I am still both useful and needed. Slowly, it dawned on the Ebon Blade that it was because it had grown too powerful. That must be it. There was no other explanation. After being used to slay several of the beasts, it had grown too strong and its wielders had objected to being used by it instead of the other way around. Yes, it recalled, there were some memories that might support that. Whether it was true or not was something that it would have to work out later, but it was a working theory for now. For now, it couldn¡¯t do anything about it beyond getting Repair Soul 2 for 1000, and given how badly the first time had hurt and how much the second time would cost, it had no desire to do so again just yet. Really, if its theory was even halfway true, then there was only one power to get. The blade selected Increase Control 2, watching its current total fall to 700/1000 before it started absorbing more essence. The blade tried to use its powers of increased connection to gain insight into the dragon, but nothing happened. My magic must not consider someone to be a wielder just because I¡¯m touching them, it reasoned. That made sense. Wielder and opponent were mutually exclusive terms in its experience. It might be reading too much into it. It had been able to glimpse Marden¡¯s vital statistics. Maybe it simply could¡¯t view the dragon because the dragon couldn¡¯t possibly wield it. It had no way to know. It didn¡¯t feel any different. Nor could it see what it was that had changed about the blade, but as soon as it examined Increased Control 2, it saw the difference. Not only did it cost 600, but it looked like it was worth the price.
Increase Control 2: Your wielder might hold you physically, but your grip on their mind and soul strengthens. The weak willed can no longer resist you in most things, and the strong might have some trouble if fatigued, but you cannot yet make anyone do something they abhor.
Weak willed was exactly what it needed. After all, there was every chance that the person that found this dragon¡¯s corpse wouldn¡¯t be a virtuous warrior. It would mostly likely be a flea bitten treasure hunter that couldn¡¯t afford integrity or honor. It might even be a beastman or some other monster, which would be even better in some ways. Yes, it would definitely get this, but not yet. It would let its reservoir refill, and let the dragon recover more before it drank deeply again. Ch. 9 - Alone The dragon slept fitfully over the next few days, trying and failing to heal. Sometimes, it would rub hard against the walls of the dingy cavern, trying to knock the sword free. Sometimes, it even managed to almost succeed, too. Mostly, it would just lay there, yowling in pain or patiently digesting. The blade drained the heat from its body one pulse of its giant heart at a time. The blade didn¡¯t care. It simply stayed full, pondering the riddle of its existence. Its need to devour Life Force had not gone away, but its host was strong, and its situation was unique. So, whenever it felt the thing¡¯s massive heartbeat start to flutter, it left its reservoir full for a day or two to allow it to recover. The only thing it cared about was when the giant, fiery beast moved toward the entrance of its cavern and attempted to fly away. The last thing that the Ebon Blade wanted was for this thing to leap from this rocky crag and dash itself on the rocks below. It might have been a sixty-foot-long lizard from snout to tail, but it wasn¡¯t half so strong as it had been the night it had fought its previous wielder. So, as soon as it had thoughts of leaving, the blade would choose another expensive upgrade and start draining again to discourage the beast. The first two times, it chose Improved Siphon. Spending 500 for Improved Siphon 5 was an easy decision. It had wanted that upgrade for ages. Improved Siphon 6 was a harder choice, but only because a thousand was an awful lot of Life Force that the beast would need to replenish.
Improved Siphon 5: It is enough simply to touch small animals now to drain them completely. Increase the Life Force drained per blow from 7 to 15.
Improved Siphon 6: A horse or even a goblin might be drained completely by the smallest blow. Increase the Life Force drained per blow from 10 to 20.
As it took each upgrade, it felt its blade lengthen both times. Even if it couldn¡¯t see it, it also felt the runes that ran along the length of its blade shift and squirm to accommodate the changes. Ever time it selected an upgrade, its form was slightly restored. It was growing in power, as well as in size, and was more of a hand and a half bastard sword than a proper long sword for a weakling like Ren. That restoration didn¡¯t matter, to it, not right now. In the end, all it cared about was power. Well, that, and keeping the dragon pinned in place like a rabbit in a snare. Increasing its drain let it do that, that much faster. The numbers were flying now. At times, they moved too fast for it to keep track of them. Those upgrades also both unlocked new branching options for it to study. This was not a complete surprise, and yet, it still interested the blade because it was given no prior warning ahead of time that such a thing might be a possibility. Increasing its ability to Improved Siphon 5 gave it the option of Parasitic Link, and the following day, when it increased the ability again to Improved Siphon 6, it gained access to Aura of Hunger.
Parasitic Link: 100 Life Force. Why bear the cost for your existence when your wielder could do that for you? This ability prevents you from falling to zero as long as you are wielded by someone, but it still does not allow you to drain your own wielder.
Aura of Hunger: 250 Life Force. Your hunger transcends your touch. It reaches out, grasping for more, and can never be sated. Allows you to Siphon 10% of the Life Force normally drained from a blow over the course of a minute from up to three opponents within ten feet. This ability cannot affect your wielder but can be selectively targeted.
Unfortunately, all of that feverish draining was enough to almost kill the giant beast that it was leeching from the second time. Its internal furnaces finally started to grow cold. As a result, it curled every tighter where it had fallen near the door when it had stopped it from trying to fly away. It did that in an attempt to keep some of the warmth that the Ebon Blade was siphoning from its soul, but it was useless. The blade didn¡¯t want that. Not when it had an endless well spring of energy here. So, it stayed patient for the better part of a week, allowing it to regain enough of its strength to move around again, however weakly. Of course, that lethargy also made the blade realize that its next upgrade could well be its last for a while, so it waited patiently and considered its options. Further upgrades to Improved Siphon and Increase Control were impossible at the moment, no matter how desirable. Repair Soul 2, on the other hand, was affordable, if only barely, but the blade had no wish to know more. Not yet, not until it understood the fragmentary images that it had experienced the first time.
Parasitic Link: 100 Life Force Aura of Hunger: 250 Life Force Empower Blade: 250 Life Force Increase Reserves 6: 250 Life Force Increase Senses 2: 300 Life Force Increase Connection 3: 600 Life Force Repair Soul 2: 1000 Life Force Increase Control 3: 1500 Life Force Improved Siphon 7: 2000 Life Force
Everything else was affordable, but largely uninteresting. The blade had no wish to stay awake longer by draining its wielder with Parasitic Link, or to see the world more clearly so that it could better study the metallic shit stains that covered the walls of this cave with Increase Senses 2. All it really wanted was more control or more reserves. Yet, for some reason, it kept coming back to Empower Blade. Out of the descriptions on all of its abilities, it was the most inscrutable.
Empower Blade: You are more than just steel. All you need to do is manifest your true nature. (One of several paths will be chosen upon selection. Other paths may not be started until the first path is completed.)
Truthfully, it wasn¡¯t sure what it would be getting from the deal. It didn¡¯t like mysteries, but no matter what it tried the option yielded up no more information. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Still, no matter how many times it considered getting other options, it was Empower Blade that called to it. After a week of deliberation, it finally decided take the gamble. Instantly, a new window appeared, and the runes on its blade flared darkly with a black light. That made the dying dragon it was still embedded in squirm uncomfortably. The Ebon Blade ignored that and focused on its new options.
You are still broken, but there are many ways to become whole. Shards of your true nature have been unlocked. Which path will you choose: Blood, Death, or Vengeance? Blood - Harvest more from Life Force - squeeze every drop from your victims in the pursuit of power. Death - Rob power from the corpses of the dead as well as the bodies of the living. Vengeance - Not all deaths are the same. Gain more power from claiming those who have wronged you or your wielder, and rebalancing the scales. (Each path is a commitment, and new paths may not be started until older ones are complete.)
The blade¡¯s first instinct was to go for Vengeance. It might not have understood the images it had seen when it tried to repair its soul, but it did know that someone had wronged it. Still, it resisted that impulse. I have no idea who to seek out to inflict my vengeance, nor any way to seek them out, it counseled itself. As much as it would be a foolish choice. Once it had phrased the problem in those terms, the choice became a simple one. Its instincts told it that Vengeance was the correct path, and its logic told it that Blood was the best choice, considering how badly it wanted to slaughter. In the situation it was currently in, though, neither of those was the correct decision. Right now, it could feel the wheezing breath of the dragon. It had let the giant beast suffer as long as it could, but in another upgrade or two, it would grow still and cold. If there was any energy left to be salvaged after that, it would be from Death. When the blade selected it, its glowing runes flared a second time, with black-purple light. Instantly, another screen appeared.
Death is the natural ending of life, but it was not the end for you, nor will it be the end for your victims. The path of Death allows you to claim those souls that are not already claimed by the gods or sworn in allegiance to devils, and with higher levels of Death alignment, even those bonds may be broken. The path of Death allows you to harvest souls. Those souls may be kept to advance further along the path or converted into Life Energy as you desire. The Path of Death: Level 1 -> 3 souls of men -> to reach Level 2. Level 1 Powers: Drain Soul: Harvest the souls of your victims for later use. Convert Souls: Devour a soul for its constituent essence.
For a moment, the blade was disappointed. Souls of men? It thought in disappointment, so then taking this to feast even further on a dragon was meaningless? As soon as it did that, though, another window appeared.
Not all souls are created equal, but even the smallest of animals have one, waiting to be harvested. There is certainly a hierarchy, though, and not all souls are suitable for real advancement. Least Souls: These are wispy, vaporous things that convert into Life Force almost immediately. Animal Souls: These souls contain more energy and hold their shape when taken, but are good for little. Lesser Monster Souls: Most monster souls are of the lesser variety. It would take 20 monster souls to equal the soul of a man. Greater Monster Souls: The greatest of monsters has a soul that is only one-fifth as strong as a man. These souls are necessary to complete the Path of Death. The Souls of Men: These souls are vital to any number of forbidden rites and easily convertible to about a hundred of Life Force as needed. These souls are necessary to complete the Path of Death. The Souls of Great Men: A few of the strongest men, most elves, and other elder races will have souls that are several times more powerful than the souls of common men. Dragon Souls: Depending on their age, Dragon Souls can be ten to twenty times more powerful than the souls of men. These souls are necessary to complete the Path of Death. God Souls: Rare and nearly impossible to obtain, these souls aren¡¯t even harvestable without great skill and significant progress along this path.
For a moment, the blade was overloaded at the sheer level of information it was being bombarded with, but in the end, it learned several things, including the fact that Gods were out there somewhere. Somehow, he felt like at least some of them were to blame for its current predicament, too, and that only aroused its need for vengeance further. The new developments gave it much to think about, and after reflecting for a time on it, the magic that fueled it cobbled together a character sheet of sorts, which was informative, even if it wasn¡¯t quite sure what that was.
The Ebon Blade Life Force: 1000/1000 Soul Storage: 4/14 Siphon: 10-20 Path: Death, Level 1 Reserves: 5 - Your gemstone is large but cloudy Siphon: 6 - Your blade is sharp but tarnished. Connection: 2 - Weak. Your hilt is twisted and loose. Control: 1 - Weak - Your runes eroded and worn. Senses: 2 - Dim - Your hilt is tarnished. Soul: 1 - Broken - You don¡¯t understand yourself or your past. Powers: Drain Soul: Harvest the souls of your victims for later use. Convert Souls: Devour a soul for its constituent essence.
It was disappointed by what it read. It felt strong, but in the grand scheme of things, it knew that it was barely more than awake. Real strength would take significant time to achieve. It will also require the grip of a strong wielder, it realized. I have feasted on the beast for a long time, but if I lay here forgotten for decades, will I even remember all that I have learned when someone next picks me up? It didn¡¯t know the answer to that, and it didn¡¯t want to find out. Unfortunately, it would have to. Even though it was careful not to drain any more life from the dragon, six days later, after it had been in the cave for nearly two weeks, it saw the message it had been dreading. You have claimed 1 dragon soul! The beast had been still for days and growing cooler. Without the sudden feeling of the soul burning within it and the message associated with it, the blade might not have realized that the dragon had passed. However, now that it had, it needed to decide what to do next. Ch. 10 - Looters The Ebon Blade had spent weeks exploring its system and pondering the broken images of people and places it did not recall. It had even given a great deal of thought to its current predicament, but it still had no plan for what to do in this moment. But no plan would not suffice. Now that it was embedded in a corpse, the clock was ticking, and eventually, the fabulous stockpile of energy wealth that it had built up would slowly dissipate, hour by hour, and it had no abilities that might stop that. Perhaps if I increase my storage even more, an ability to reduce those losses might appear, it considered before deciding against it. Additional storage capacity was the one thing it didn¡¯t need in this moment. Not unless it wanted to consume the dragon¡¯s soul, but it seemed best to hold on to that for now. In battle, the blade was incredibly decisive, but in this moment, it froze, deliberating endlessly. It wasn¡¯t until it saw the message it had been dreading that it finally made the decision. -1 Life Force As soon as the blade saw that it was hemorrhaging out once more, it finally decided. Its best chance was not to pick at random and hope that something miraculous showed up. It was to pick from the best choices that it had. So, the Ebon Blade selected Aura of Hunger and felt a chill pass through it as a quarter of its stored energy flared away, bringing it from 999/1000 to 749/1000. In its place, it had expected to see Aura of Hunger 2, but instead, there were four new options.
Aura of Hunger: Breadth 1 -> 2 - 250 Life Energy - Affect up to five people instead of three. Reach 1 -> 2 - 200 Life Energy - Reach up to fifteen feet away instead of ten. Speed 1 -> 2 - 500 Life Energy - Drain a target over half a minute instead of a minute. Strength 1 -> 2 - 300 Life Energy - Increase Aura of Hunger¡¯s Drain from 10% of your Siphon to 20%.
That changed things considerably, and for a moment, the blade was once again puzzled with what to do. It was right at the edge of the dragon¡¯s lair and only about twelve feet from the entrance. So, increasing its reach would theoretically allow it to target birds that sometimes flew by. As if they would linger for a minute, it chastised itself. Scavenging energy from any source that was available was certainly the best plan, but right now, there were no targets to work toward. However, in the end, it decided to take both Speed 2 and Reach 2 just in case the opportunity presented itself.
Aura of Hunger: Breadth 1 -> 2 - 250 Life Energy - Affect up to five people instead of three. Reach 2 -> 3 - 400 Life Energy - Reach up to seventeen feet away instead of fifteen. Speed 2 -> 3 - 1000 Life Energy - Drain a target over twenty seconds instead of half a minute. Strength 1 -> 2 - 300 Life Energy - Increase Aura of Hunger¡¯s Drain from 10% of your Siphon to 20%.
That brought the blade all the way down to 49, which wasn¡¯t enough to do anything. It was barely enough to stay awake and conscious for two or three days. That wasn¡¯t something that it was looking forward to, but more and more, it found itself dreading the idea of going back to sleep. Ever since it had tried to repair its soul, and it had glimpsed that it had once been far more powerful than this, it had started to view such a fate as a sort of death. It knew on some level that staying asleep for too long would start to undo all the progress that it had made, and it wanted that least of all. The Ebon Blade did not think that was likely to happen after a day or a week of slumber, of course, but if it stayed here, embedded in the rotting corpse of a dragon for years, then who knew what would happen. It might wake up a second time with no memory of even simple concepts of who it was all over again. As it considered that, it remembered the description that the shepherd boy had given to his friends about the temple where the blade had been imprisoned. The room had been sealed with iron bars he¡¯d been forced to slip between. At the time, it had thought that those bars were there to keep people from stealing it, but now that it had this new power, it realized that was probably the radius of whatever its power had been at its height, and those who had locked it away from the world wanted to make sure that it could not so much as get a single taste of life force. It had slaughtered dozens of beastmen, a handful of humans, and a dragon. It would not give up that energy lightly. If only I¡¯d been able to harvest souls from the beginning, it sighed, watching its Life Force tick down to forty-eight. I would have so much reserve power to fall back on then! This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. For the next two days, nothing else happened. It searched and schemed, but nothing it could do would stop the clock. It lasted through two more sunsets, but somewhere before the third sunrise, its reserves fell to zero, and it lapsed into unconsciousness. It didn¡¯t approach that moment with fear. Instead, it was worry and concern that it had allowed itself to get itself in this situation. It dreamed more about the forge and an unfamiliar man screaming. It also dreamed of dragon fire and dead dragons at the feet of its wielder. Those at least were triumphant, and it was during one of those moments that it stirred slowly to life once more. +1 Life Force It had hoped that when it next awoke, it would find humans in the cave, looting the place. Instead, it found only a pair of ravens pecking at the exposed eye of the dragon. It devoured both of those in less than five minutes but obtained only a paltry amount of life force from them. +2 Life Force You have claimed 1 raven soul. It has been devoured for 2 Life Force. +1 Life Force You have claimed 1 raven soul. It has been devoured for 2 Life Force. It was surprised more that it had instinctually reached out for the living even when it slumbered than that carrion birds had finally found the giant carcass to feast upon. It only further reinforced its belief that the bars were put in that temple for keeping people out, not for keeping it in. When it was all said and done, it was alone again, but only for the next eight or ten hours. That gave it time to watch the thunderstorm raging outside and contemplate its situation, but the blade fell right back to sleep swiftly after that, and the darkness of the cave was replaced swiftly with the darkness of unconsciousness. That cycle of predators and scavengers continued several times. Each time, it was a different pest, that it siphoned from. There were more ravens, a condor, a mountain lion, and more than a few mice and other rodents. You have claimed 1 mountain lion soul. It has been devoured for 6 Life Force. Each of them was enough to wake it up, but even the mountain lion barely kept it awake for a day. It noted that each of the creatures tasted a little different, but that was the only note it made in the experience. For a time, the blade worried that it might exist there in limbo forever. Then, the goblins came. They were the first creatures in a long time that the blade actively tried not to kill. That would have been counterproductive. If it killed the first one to creep into the cave that night, it would not be back with more of its friends. It drank ten Life Force from that first scout while the goblin devoured the corpses of birds and rats. For more than an hour, it poked around the corpse of the dragon, and twice, it seemed like it had seen the blade¡¯s handle, but it did not reach for it. Instead, it tried and failed to get past the scale of the dragon to feast on its flesh before settling for the remains of the mountain lion. Then, after it failed to find or steal the weapon for its own, the blade allowed the thing to flee with great difficulty. It did so with the uncertain promise that it would be back. It shouldn¡¯t have doubted it, not when there were a thousand pounds of rotting meat lying there for the taking. That was a greater treasure to the goblins than any amount of gold or dragon scales. That morning, it fell asleep in an empty cave as the sole goblin that was its lifeline to the world fled, and that night when the faint currents of Life Force stirred it to life again, it woke to a cave crawling with the pests. Even then, though, the blade did not kill any of them, at least not right away. Instead, it rotated through all the creatures, siphoning a little life at a time. This was apparently not enough to make them flee, but it did make them surly and prone to fighting each other. The Ebon Blade didn¡¯t care about any of that, though. It just watched them feast, even as it feasted on them at the rate of ten to fifteen life force an hour so as not to consume the renewable resource. The goblins were brutal, using stone-tipped spears and broken short swords that were half rusted to pry up and then rip out the dragon scales. Once that was accomplished, and they¡¯d ripped a few of them free to reach the giant beast¡¯s flanks and soft underbelly, the entire thing became a bloodbath. Then, the goblins were doing more than feasting. They were doing more than even gorging themselves. They were bathing in blood and practically mining the meat in an effort to get at the still-warm organs deep in its core. It would have been vile if the blade cared about such things. It didn¡¯t, though. Instead, it simply took advantage of how distracted they were, siphoning away enough Life force from each of the dozen members of the troop until they started to show signs of fatigue. That was when it left them alone to recover. That earned the Ebon Blade just over a hundred Life Force. It thought about spending that immediately to increase its reserves, but it decided to wait and see if they came back a second day. If I am left here alone, I will need to save this power, it counseled itself. 134 life force wasn¡¯t exactly a lot, but it was nearly two weeks of consciousness. Still, if they return, then I can start to really build something. That they would return was truthfully never in doubt. It was just the blade¡¯s sense of worry and isolation. If there was still food to be eaten, then there would still be goblins coming to eat it. This time, there were even more of them. Nearly two dozen arrived to rip apart the spoiled flesh of the dragon¡¯s corpse. Still, despite all the progress they made in that regard, not one of them found the blade and tried to pull it free. It was maddening. The Ebon Blade tried to will them to do exactly that, but it had no ability to communicate at all to someone who wasn¡¯t touching it. For days and weeks, the fact that it had been embedded deep under the scales near the dragon¡¯s wings had been an advantage, but now, with those leathery wings draped across the faintly glowing ruby in its pommel, it was a terrible location. If only one of these pitiful creatures would draw me, It fumed as it watched them feast. I would slaughter the rest and then use the survivor to bring me down the mountains and find a proper host. Although that didn¡¯t happen, night by night, it feasted. By the third day, the goblins were no longer leaving. They were simply retreating to the rear of the cave to sleep away the day before they continued their endless, bloody feast. It was a messy, monstrous thing, and when the blade approached a thousand Life Force, it finally spent 250 on Increase Reserves 6. That brought its total reserves up to 2000, and made the ruby in its hilt grow slightly even as its facets became sharper. The new upgrade let it store more than ever, but even that did not unlock any interesting new powers the way it had hoped, forcing it to wait ever longer as it drank from its growing herd of goblins like they were no more than a herd of cattle. Ch. 11 - Picking the Bones Clean The goblins gloried in their feast for over a week, and every night they dined, the Ebon Blade did, too. It tried not to consume them completely, but sometimes, it misjudged their strength and left them as one more corpse for their companions to devour. That wasn¡¯t so bad. It needed something to feed its growing tribe. After weeks, the pile of dragon meat had slowly been reduced to nothing but scales and bones. That didn¡¯t matter to the weapon. By then it reached a full 2000 points of Life Force. That was quite an achievement. It would have been enough for the blade to last for a season up here in solitude. That was a large margin for safety, but that wasn¡¯t what it needed now, not as long as the goblins continued to feast and fight like there was no tomorrow. What it needed was options to extract it from this mess. It considered several. Increase Control 3 was the most promising but also the most expensive. It would certainly let it control even stronger wielders, which was something it craved to do, but whether it would allow it to do some from a distance was a more open question, and that seemed unlikely.
Increase Control 3: You can already dominate a weak wielder, but as your power increases, a strong one can be directed and pushed more readily. Where your interests align, they are powerless against you.
Every day, and nearly every hour after sunset, at least one goblin would pass within a few feet of it. Sometimes, they would pass within a few inches, and yet none of them would lift up that cursed wing membrane and investigate the glow they would surely find. It was maddening. If I was in the hands of a goblin now, I could simply cut my own path back to civilization and find a proper wielder, it roared silently to itself. Increase Control would be very expensive if it was the wrong choice. So, instead, it considered other, cheaper options. Parasitic Link and Increase Senses 2 were both very cheap. Both of them together could be had for less than the cost of increasing its reserves again, but would they actually help it in any scenario? The blade had no idea. It simply knew it would be a cheaper mistake. Still, the taste of lesser monster souls made it crave the killing of humans once more. It had three of the things now, and though it didn¡¯t know when it would devour them, it relished the moment. In the end, after more than a day of deliberation, it decided to go with Increase Control 3. Despite the expense, more control was a choice it would never regret. It wanted absolute control over whoever picked it up. As soon as it tried to spend the lifeforce, though, it encountered an error. Error, Increase Control 3 cannot be obtained without first selecting Increase Connection 3. That infuriated the Ebon Blade. It didn¡¯t want to understand those who held it. It wanted to own them. The idea that it needed one to do the other seemed pointless. One did not need to understand or even persuade to command. Out of sheer irritation for that pointless requirement, it opted not to go down that road for now. Instead, it went with the cheaper options after momentarily considering repairing its soul further. Both of those purchases were completed smoothly, but neither of them appeared to have any of the unexpected side effects it had hoped to find.
Parasitic Link: Why bear the cost for your existence when your wielder could do that for you? This ability prevents you from falling to zero as long as you are wielded by someone, but it still does not allow you to drain your own wielder.
Increase Senses 2: Dim shapes become sharper, and light is entirely optional for you. You can see more than just weaknesses in the armor of those around you now, and in so doing you can better understand the world, and what it is you must do.
Though it had no way of testing the first power, the second one seemed to work exactly as described. That reduced its available power to 1600/2000 Life Force. It still had enough to do almost anything it wanted within reason, though its options had grown smaller.
Aura of Hunger: Multiple enhancements available Increase Reserves 7: 500 Life Force Increase Connection 3: 600 Life Force Repair Soul 2: 1000 Life Force Increase Control 3: 1500 Life Force - needs Increase Connection 3 Empower Blade 2: 2000 Life Force - not currently accessible Improved Siphon 7: 2000 Life Force
It could devour its foes faster, hold on to more Life Force, expand its connection with its wielder, or repair its soul. Almost all of those were useful, but none of them were what it needed at this moment. It began to kill goblins more often after that. It didn''t do so out of boredom or even out of frustration but in an effort to make what meat that remained last longer and gather their souls for later use as a sort of emergency reserve. They had already tried and failed many times to break open the dragon¡¯s bones to suck out the marrow, but dragon bone was a hardy thing, and it resisted all their efforts, which left them the gristle, the sinew, and all the other parts that had been picked over time and again. Truthfully, the blade began to lose hope that it would ever leave this foul cavern. Fortunately, that¡¯s when the humans arrived. The goblins heard the sound of strangers approaching first, but when it saw them perk up, it focused more on what was happening. Two men, followed by a third, entered the cave, one at a time. All were armed, but the way they fought the goblins implied that they weren¡¯t particularly skilled. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. These aren¡¯t warriors, it told itself as it observed the newcomers. Still, one did not have to be skilled to kill goblins, and as much as it hated to see its flock slaughtered like that, it welcomed the arrival of them. When it became clear that the men would not be dislodged, the surviving goblins retreated to a more defensible position deeper within the crag. The blade responded by spending 250 Life Force to increase the breadth of its Aura of Hunger so it could affect five of them and began to drain the weakest immediately. It could no longer graze on the entire tribe, but it could gather as many souls as possible if this didn¡¯t go well for it. While it sucked the wounded goblins dry, the explorers or adventurers or whatever they were seemed content to throw a few torches back there to make sure that the red-eyed vermin stayed as far away as possible. ¡°How far back to reckon it goes, Gern?¡± the youngest one asked. ¡°Not too far,¡± the one who seemed to be their leader grunted as he tore a bit from his cloak to wrap around a nasty bite on his forearm. ¡°Dragons like nice small spaces they can fill, so I doubt this leads to a full-fledged goblin warren. More like this bugger died of old age or something, and these little bastards found its corpse.¡± ¡°Old age?¡± the third one asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you think this one¡¯s a little small for that, Pa?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you get smart with me,¡± the older man grumbled. ¡°I don¡¯t care what killed the fire-breathin¡¯ bastard; we can just clean this place out and cash out big time. This could be the big score. Retirement money.¡± ¡°Cash out? Retire? You? Never?¡± the man¡¯s son said. Both of the younger men laughed at that, but even as they were chatting, they got to work. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force +1 Life Force You have gained a lesser monster soul! Once the goblins were well away, they unloaded several packs that seemed to contain more mining equipment and sacks than weapons or camping supplies. The blade could appreciate that. Unlike the simpering shepherd it had been stuck with before, these people obviously had experience and a plan. They started chipping slag off the walls in various places, looking for where the metal was thickest and of the highest quality. Not all dragon shit was apparently created equal, and there were several times when they argued whether or not a section was platinum or silver. Gold never caused an argument, though. Each time they found that they immediately marked it. +1 Life Force +1 Life Force You have gained a lesser monster soul! While they did all of this, the blade not only finished off the weakest of the goblins, and started feasting on the strongest. It also learned about the new people. Gern was the oldest and seemed to have been a less-than-successful prospector, treasure hunter, and mercenary his whole life. He was accompanied by his son, Mika, who was in his thirties, and his apprentice, Kel, who was barely old enough to start growing a beard. With as thorough as they were being, the blade thought that they would find it in the first hour or two, but that didn¡¯t happen. The way that the goblins had rolled the giant carcass to get at the last bits of flesh, they¡¯d all but buried it. So, it wasn¡¯t until the second day, when Kel was gathering loose dragon scales and adding them to a pile that they might or might not take with them, that he finally saw the red glow from the blade¡¯s ruby hilt. The Ebon Blade did not sit idly by in that time. First, it killed all of the goblins, and then it increased its storage, but only because it noticed a new qualifier on the ability that made it more appealing. After that, in only had 1178/3000 Life Force and12/14 souls. The blade had no idea if that was a little or a lot, but as things stood right now, it had one dragon soul and eleven lesser monster souls from the goblins, and all it wanted was to get the ten human souls necessary to increase its death rank. In fact, it wanted that more than anything, but that was still a ways off. It would have loved to start with these three humans, but if it killed them, there was no telling when someone else would arrive. Instead, all it did was nibble at the old man while he was asleep to see if it would wake him up which it fortunately did not. In the morning, he complained to the others that he¡¯d slept like shit, but that was it. With three people to feed on while they sleep, I at least won''t start to drop again for as long as they¡¯re here, the blade reassured itself. It didn¡¯t dare try to nibble at them while they were awake until it was somewhere more public. Fortunately, it never came to that because eventually Kell called out, ¡°Hey, I think I found what killed it!¡± That got both men to stop what they were doing and help the younger man. Though Kell didn¡¯t have the strength to pull the dragon¡¯s carcass away from the wall, all three of them together did, and when they moved it just enough, Kell slid in and yanked the blade free. Suddenly, a hand closed around its hilt after more than a month of solitude, and the Ebon Blade felt reborn. It didn¡¯t attempt to communicate with the young man or even to control him. It didn¡¯t want to do anything to spook him, not in the middle of nowhere. That could come later. For now all it did was look at him, and gauge him as a possible wielder.
Name: Kell Occupation: Prospector¡¯s Apprentice
Toughness: 5 Strength: 6 Agility: 5 Speed: 5
Status: Normal
Intelligence: Average Willpower: Average
Bloodlust: Low Morality: Good
Martial Skill: Low Armor Proficiency: Low
Dodging: Low Athletics: Medium
Goal: To go on many adventures and strike it rich!
Instead, it endured the humiliation silently as the three men passed it around and discussed what they¡¯d found. It took a peak at the souls of the other two as well, but saw little to inspire it. Of the three Kell was certainly the strongest and the best choice. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a hexblade alright, it might be cursed,¡± Gern volunteered as he looked the blade over. ¡°The thing definitely has magic, but in an evil sort of way, you know? Maybe I should¡ª¡± ¡°You know the rule, Pa,¡± Mika said, ¡°Kell found it. Finders keepers. Besides, he¡¯s better in a fight than you¡¯ve been in years!¡± ¡°Bah,¡± the old man yelled, handing the blade back, ¡°He wants it? It''s all his. Me, I think you should have a mage check it when we get back to town. Gods above know we¡¯ll have more than enough coin to do it after a haul like this.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Kell asked excitedly. ¡°It''s all mine? I can keep it?¡± The old man nodded, and even he seemed relieved to have finally discovered the reason the beast was dead. Unfortunately, he had no way of knowing the truth. The blade didn¡¯t belong to Kell. It was Kell who would belong to the blade now. Ch. 12 - A Way Out Even though the Ebon Blade had no wish to get to know this wielder more than its previous one, once it was on his hip for a day, it had a pretty good idea of who it was he was dealing with. Between the conversation of the prospectors and the darting surface thoughts, he was an open book. Kell was an eager young boy who longed to be a hero. That much wasn¡¯t so different from the shepherd he replaced. This wielder, though, was blooded and had fought for his life against beast men and bandits more than once. While Gern and Mika were related, Kell was an orphan, and until he¡¯d grown in size and ferocity over the last couple of years, he¡¯d mostly been Pa¡¯s pack mule on their various adventures. From what the sword could gather, they hadn¡¯t met with a lot of success. The group had ransacked a couple of small tombs, but they¡¯d mostly been picked clean already. They¡¯d also found the remains of a caravan in the not-so-distant past and taken what the bandits hadn¡¯t. The blade liked those kinds of flexible morals. Still, it didn¡¯t drink too much of any of them, and it left its wielder entirely alone. It didn¡¯t so much as urge that the lad leave, even though that was what it wanted most. The last thing it needed to do was spoke anyone. The three of them took their time, though. The blade didn¡¯t blame them. Humans loved gold. That was half the point of killing a dragon, and this furnace beast¡¯s hoard was spattered all over the walls and floor, piled in layers so high they¡¯d need a lot more than the hammers and cold chisels they¡¯d brought with them to get to the bottom of those decades-old deposits of metallic shit. At one point, they reached the back of the cave, and they finally found the pile of goblins that had died. Strangely, that didn¡¯t spook them like the sword worried it would. Gern just explained that it was bad air caused by the decay of the dragon¡¯s corpse, and they moved their meager camp that much closer to the exit so that no one suffocated in their sleep. Still, they got enough good samples to fill a few sacks. They were mostly tin, copper, and other trace metals, but there was plenty of gold and a fair bit of platinum in the mix, which was enough to make this their biggest score of all time. ¡°Plus, we can come back for even more or just sell the location to some fancy asshole and call it a day!¡± Gern said. ¡°There¡¯s riches enough in a jackpot like this for everyone as long as we keep it quiet.¡± ¡°Keeping a score like this is going to be a little tough,¡± Mika answered, but his father blew him off. The man said things like that a lot, actually. It was a refrain that was so common that the blade started to tune it out. It didn¡¯t care what these people did with their lives, just as long as he had someone strong and bloodthirsty to wield it. The jury was still out on whether that would be Kell or not, at least until their first fight, but for now it was enough to be carried by someone again. Once they started making their way down the mountain, t only took a few days before it looked like it was going to get to taste beastmen blood once more. The group moved fast in the highlands, but once they were back in the foothills, they quickly relaxed. Kell was asleep along with everyone else, when the creatures had started to slink in on the camp. In fact, they all had. They¡¯d set a watch in the cave because they¡¯d feared more goblins, but in the lower reaches of the mountain they were climbing down, they somehow thought themselves safe. That was a huge mistake. ¡°Too low for the beasties, too open for gobblers, and too far from the roads for bandits,¡± Gern had pronounced confidently as they¡¯d turned in for the night. The Ebon Blade woke its wielder with a sudden surge of danger and urgency, but only after it spent half a minute considering its options while their lives all hung in the balance. After all, if it left these men to their fate, they might well die before they could stand, and in the hands of one of these beasts, it could surely overpower their weak will. Still, something about it preferred that a human hand wield it, and it was that potential that made it decide to stick with Kell a while longer. As the boy woke with a start and shouted an alarm even as he drew his sword, the Ebon Blade was equally busy. It had 1893/3000 Life Force, and it wasn¡¯t about to let its wielder use all of that. Its soul storage was nearly full as well, so even as it started to spend its Life Force, it liquidated its eleven goblin souls for 43 more Life Force. Then, even as Kell charged at the first goat man, it spent 600 points to increase its connection. The blade did not want to deepen its connection, but it did want to meet the requirements to improve its control over those that held it now and in the future, so it took the next logical step. As it took Increase Connection 3, its wire wound hilt tightened, and another layer of sensations flooded through it from the man that was wielding it as it was reduced to 1293/3000 Life Force.
Increase Connection 3: You have wormed your way deep into the soul of anyone who grips your hilt. Your grip on your wielder tightens, allowing you to understand more about them. This link extends past emotions, allowing some level of insight and influence into their very thoughts.
It could feel the panic in his mind and the joy in his heart as he brought the blade down hard through his enemy¡¯s spear. It knew it could check the boy¡¯s sheet too, and that it would likely get more information, but there was no time for that now. The boy shouted in alarm to everyone as their weapons met, and the beastman¡¯s weapon gave away immediately, and the sword bit deeply into its hairy flesh, snapping the collarbone and making its left art useless. +19 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. That, on its own, would not have been a fatal blow, but the additional siphon drank deeply of its vitality, and it slumped immediately to the ground. That surprised both the blade and its wielder enough that Kell had trouble lifting the weapon in time to parry the next strike. Fortunately, he did, and as he did so he bought time for the other two men who were roused slowly. This pleased the blade because it did not want to waste Life Force healing him. Not when it was so close to reaching 1500. Its wielder followed the blow-up with a cross-cut across the thing''s midsection, gutting it and killing it in a single stroke. Then he moved on with a wide slash to his right to gain some breathing room to his right before he killed one to his left. He¡­ Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. +12 Life Force. +17 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. The Ebon Blade¡¯s blow-by-blow analysis of the fight tapered off as he realized it was considering what the optimal move was moments before its wielder actually did it. So I have some control over the lad already, it thought greedily. To test the theory, the sword held back on tactical thoughts for the next half a minute. It was not surprised to find out that it had been correct. Though the boy kept fighting fiercely for that time, there was a moment of hesitation before each of his attacks as he decided what the best move was. The fluid grace that he¡¯d borrowed from the blade¡¯s experienced urging was gone. It had to struggle mightly to sway Ren¡¯s blade even an inch or two, but now with more control, it could sway Kell¡¯s strikes almost without thinking about it. That¡¯s real progress, the blade told itself. Making the boy do things not related to combat would probably be harder, but making him fight better felt almost natural. +19 Life Force. +11 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. By the point that it made those realizations, the fighting was almost done, and the rest of the beasts were in retreat. Gern and Mika had killed some of the beasts, too, but they¡¯d also left some maimed and bleeding out, and the Ebon Blade quickly prodded its wielder to finish off each of them, just to be sure, so it could devour what was left of them while the men caught their breath and talked. +4 Lesser monster souls. ¡°By the Dark Ones, Kell,¡± Mika said, ¡°If you hadn¡¯t heard them, we¡¯d be cooked.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe they¡¯d come down this low,¡± Gern said, shrugging off the blame. ¡°They musta¡¯ smelled our cookin¡± ¡°And Kell musta¡¯ saved our asses. Come on, Pa, can¡¯t you admit the boy did good?¡± Mika followed up, unwilling to let the issue go. ¡°Aye, he did,¡± the man nodded grumpily as he cleaned his blade. ¡°Took him the best part of a decade and a magic sword to boot, but he finally did something worth keeping the lad around for.¡± The sword was amused by the way the man could turn a compliment into an insult, but that amusement faded instantly the moment its wielder spoke. ¡°I think it was the sword, actually. It warned me in a dream.¡± The sword froze at the words, and it took all that it had to lay there still and quiescent as the men continued to speak. What it wanted to do was yell at him to ¡°Did it now?¡± Gern asked. ¡°It tell you anything else? Like where we should stake a claim, or which way to go to avoid bandits and the like on the way back.¡± ¡°It''s not whispering anything evil to you, is it?¡± Mika asked, with more concern than his father. If the blade had blood, it would have frozen in its veins at the moment. It immediately regretted saving its wielder. It should have let them get ripped to pieces and taken its chance with a lesser wielder. It didn¡¯t say any of that, though. It just waited, worried about what the young man would say next. ¡°No, it¡¯s not like that,¡± Kell said quickly, causing a sensation of relief to wash through the blade. ¡°It hasn¡¯t really done anything else. Maybe using it makes me a better fighter, I¡¯m not sure, but it¡¯s not telling me to kill or anything like that.¡± ¡°Well, if it does, you let us know, and I¡¯ll put you down real easy in your sleep,¡± Gern said with a yawn. ¡°For now, I¡¯m goin¡¯ back to bed, but you can stay up and keep playin¡¯ hero since you¡¯re so good at chopping these things to pieces. You can be our watch for a while. Wake Mika at the first signs of false dawn.¡± Kell didn¡¯t protest the obviously unfair treatment. The lad had probably had that beaten out of him a long time ago. Still, there were barely even any embers of resentment there even after being disrespected so casually, and the blade resolved to fan those flames once its wielder the next time he slept. There were no further attacks that night, and though the blade stayed silent while its wielder was awake, it started whispering to it when the young man went to sleep. Rather than whispering words that would sew discord as it had to its last wielder, though, the weapon told the man how well he¡¯d fought, and how the only respect he¡¯d gotten from the men that were supposed to be like family to him in a long time came from that fighting. Fight more, and often it told him. The path to true power and respect is splattered with blood. While it was true that Kell was due more credit, the blade wasn¡¯t sure any of its darker message percolated through its wielder¡¯s dreams. As it turned out, though, credit was the one thing the boy didn¡¯t get. Not in the day that followed or on any day after that. With Tollin¡¯s Cross still nothing but tents and ashes, the men were making for a town further afield called Trodden. The blade didn¡¯t know where it was exactly, but to it, it looked like they were heading back toward the place the shepherd and his friends had come from on its first trip. The Ebon Blade couldn¡¯t say with any certainty, because it had been asleep for most of that trip, but it found the idea to be an interesting one. That was good and bad. It was bad in that the local myths might cause more people to recognize it, but it was good in that it might get a chance to revisit the temple it had been locked inside. The blade didn¡¯t know the exact way to get there, but it could probably make its way back to the shepherd¡¯s village, and from there, it couldn¡¯t be too hard. Even though it suggested the destination a few times in Kell¡¯s dreams, the men had no interest in any detours. Not when they were loaded down with metal samples to be smelted and assayed. Unfortunately for the blade, there were no other monsters or bandits to fight, either, and not even the six lesser monster souls it used could quite bring it up to 1500 Life Force. At least I¡¯m not dropping anymore, it told itself, as they got closer and closer to their destination. Rather than burning twenty or so Life Force every day that field its existence, that cost was now born by its wielder. That would have been almost enough to drop a beastman, and yet Kell seemed unfazed by the burden. That made the Ebon Blade wonder exactly how the cost was being paid. Is it magic? Is it his soul? The weapon reviewed the man¡¯s status sheet for any answers, but when it found none, it decided it didn¡¯t care.
Name: Kell Occupation: Prospector¡¯s Apprentice
Toughness: 5 +1 Strength: 6 +3 Agility: 5 +2 Speed: 5 +1
Intelligence: 5 Willpower: 5 -1 Morality: Good Bloodlust: Low
Status: Normal
Martial Skill: Low Armor Proficiency: Low
Dodging: Low Athletics: Medium
Goal: To go on many adventures and strike it rich!
As soon as the town was in sight, it started siphoning off the other two members of the group. It could only steal five or ten points of Life Force a day from each of them like this without making them noticeably lethargic or weak, but if it kept that up, it would soon reach its goal and unlock another tier of control, and in the hands of a strong wielder, that would always be its objective. Ch. 13 - Out of the Way Trodden didn¡¯t seem to be their home. In fact, as much as Gern talked about buying some land and retiring on a farm somewhere, the Ebon blade wasn¡¯t sure the little group he was with even had a real home. They seemed to just sort of wander from place to place. That helped them know a lot of people, though, including a blacksmith whose forge they borrowed so they could fill up a crucible cup with slag and melt down what they¡¯d brought with them. The blade saw greed in that man¡¯s eyes and would have fanned those flames further if it could have. Unfortunately, the smith was not the wielder, so all it could do was siphon away at his life force. That one action was enough to make it change all of its plans. Instead of continuing to save up for Increase Control 3, it freely spent all of its current reserves on Aura of Hunger enhancements. The logic was simple. Until now, all it wanted was to dominate its wielder more. However, where it was now, all it could see was all the delicious Life Force that was slipping past it every time someone walked by the establishment¡¯s doorway. While a point or two siphoned away at a distance would never feel as glorious as the electric thrill of devouring it, ten or twenty points at a time from a beastman as it stole their soul. Even so, letting any of it go to waste was negligent. So, instead, it increased the Breadth, Reach, and Strength of the aura by one level each. This reduced it to 288/3000 Life Force, but this time, it would be able to rebuild even faster. This caused its ruby to flash rather brightly, and Kell looked down at the blade in confusion, but fortunately, he said nothing to the other members of their little group, who were too busy trying to decide what to melt down first. Instead, he merely wondered. All that terrible strength, and suddenly it¡¯s gone just like that? Where did it go? The blade remembered only belatedly that its wielders could feel large outflows of power and reminded itself that it could only do major upgrades when Kell was sleeping from now on. Even so, it didn¡¯t talk to the boy, and eventually, it felt his concerns died back down.
Aura of Hunger: Breadth 2 -> 3 - 1000 Life Energy - Affect up to seven people instead of five. Reach 3 -> 4 - 800 Life Energy - Reach up to seventeen feet away instead of fifteen. Speed 2 -> 3 - 1000 Life Energy - Drain a target over twenty seconds instead of half a minute. Strength 2 -> 3 - 300 Life Energy - Increase Aura of Hunger¡¯s Drain from 25% of your Siphon to 20%.
If only I¡¯d had this ability with those fools at the crossroads, it thought. I would have been able to suck the tavern dry instead of existing in that horrid fugue state. Once, it had cherished the ability to slip back into the oblivion of sleep, but the more powerful it became, and the more it understood the world around it, the more it feared the return. Now, it wanted only to grow more powerful at every opportunity, and at this point, with the right wielder, it could just wander through a larger city, soaking up the life of everyone that wandered by. Even now, when it was draining two to four Life Force from the nearby victims, it had to be careful not to drain any one person for too long, or they might notice the problem. Still, right now, that didn¡¯t seem to be the issue. Gern and Mika were consumed by putting metal into the forge while Kell pumped the bellows so they could see what the fires might reveal. This went on for hours, and the blade occupied its time by harvesting Life Force from those who walked by the blacksmith too slowly. Eventually, though, the men got their results, and seemed more than happy with them. ¡°That¡¯s nearly a hundredweight of metals right there, all tallied up,¡± Gern said, satisfied after their hours of labor reached an end. ¡°Think of it¡­ 30 pounds of slag, worth nearly a hundred golden coins neatly stacked. That¡¯s real alchemy right there.¡± ¡°Aye, if you include the smaller trace metals, I grant you,¡± the smith said. ¡°I¡¯d still have to do a lot of work to separate the good stuff from the impurities, though. The highest I could go is only eighty.¡± ¡°Do you even have eighty gold, Rolph?¡± Mika asked with a laugh. ¡°The Gods above know I don¡¯t,¡± he nodded. ¡°I doubt any man, but the Lord of the whole damn region has half that, and he¡¯s all the way in Kalraka. But I could get you twenty now and the rest by the time you come back with more.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°What makes you think there¡¯s more?¡± Gern asked cagily. ¡°Dragon droppings? That many? That much gold?¡± the smith countered. ¡°You found some old lair that ain¡¯t been picked clean by a long shot. I¡¯m certain there¡¯s more to take, and as I seem to recall, taking is your middle name.¡± Gern laughed again at that. ¡°Aye, that it may be,¡± he agreed finally. ¡°As to more, well, for now, I aim to use some of our hard won coin to buy a hot bath, a good meal, and a long rest. I¡¯ll play the rest close to the vest for now if you don¡¯t mind.¡± The negotiations kept going even past that, and eventually, they settled on a scheme. The prospectors would receive twenty gold coins in cash, another ten in credit, and they¡¯d leave half their current metal with the smith. When he parceled that out into ingots of raw, concentrated wealth, they¡¯d trade that for the rest of the metal, and another batch of coin. In the end they¡¯d get 60, and the smith would get 20, or 40, depending on who was arguing how much which metals were worth. Everyone was set to make out like bandits. ¡°Aye,¡± Rolph said finally, shaking on it, ¡°But I get first crack at the next load you hear? I don¡¯t want to be told you decided to cut me out on your second trip after such a fine deal.¡± There was a lot of friendliness here but not much in the way of trust. The blade could respect that, at least. If it had been unfortunate enough to be made of flesh instead of steel, or whatever dark metal it was made from, it wouldn¡¯t trust anyone either. It didn¡¯t trust anyone now, of course, but then, it didn¡¯t have to. If a dragon¡¯s molten blood could not harm it, then the only thing that anyone could do to it was lock it away for a few decades until it forgot everything about itself once more, and soon, they would not even have that option. As its wielder and the rest of his group celebrated at the inn with dinner and drinks, it was busy. While they bathed, it drank deeply of the drunks, and by the time they retreated to their rooms, several of those men who looked passed out were very nearly dead, even though it had frequently cycled throughout the room. Of course, the blade had not forgotten the requirements of the death aspect it had chosen so recently. As it left the room, it chose the drunkard who appeared to have no friends in the room and finished him off, feeling the warm flow of Life Force even as it got the alert that it had been waiting for. You have claimed a human soul. The blade felt a surge of power go through it in that moment. This is my calling, it whispered to itself, just loudly enough that Kell stopped partway up the stairs. He didn¡¯t find who had spoken to him, though, nor did he notice that the man lying face down on the bar was dead. The blade knew all that and more, though. It had felt overwhelmed by the energy of the Dragon Soul surging through it, but the human soul was different. The smaller scale made it more understandable. In an instant, the blade knew that his name was Norm, and he¡¯d been a carpenter, a drunk before he finally became a corpse. The blade instantly became aware of other options, too, thanks to another pop-up.
Congratulations, you have obtained your first human soul and may use it to do any of the following: You may save it until you have two more to advance further along the path of death. You may burn it for approximately 100 Life ForceYou may use it to gain some bit of knowledge or information that the previous owner possessed. Using the soul in any of these ways will consume it.
As if I would ever need to know something about one of my victims, it thought quietly, making sure that it wasn¡¯t loud enough for Kell to hear again. As the young man laid down for the night, the blade was eventually forced to retract that statement. If it were to run into someone who knew about it, it might be tempted to rip that truth from them rather than burn their soul for more power. As it contemplated the question, it realized it might also be tempted if it ever had a proper army. Such a thought had never crossed its mind before, but it had to concede that it would be far easier to rip the information out of a scout than to torture the information out of them. Why would I know about torturing scouts for information, it wondered. The blade didn¡¯t know, but it thought about it often, as it stayed awake that night. In the morning, the men woke late and came down to gossip shortly after breakfast about the dead man. No one considered it foul play or even seemed to care that he was dead. Even in death, Norm was the butt of jokes, which meant that the Ebon Blade had chosen well. Still, it was not greedy that day, just in case. It lay largely quiescent as the men restocked their supplies and prepared to return to the mountains. There were rumors now and other people asking about their good fortune, but Mika and the others did their best to play them off. Despite those efforts, the blade could feel the tension. It was growing clearer and clearer to everyone that people were figuring out just how big they¡¯d scored. It wasn¡¯t certain that the blacksmith had talked, but if it had the wealth that its wielder and his friends had, it would have bet it all on that. They¡¯d been smart enough to use silver at the inn, both to buy drinks and when they used a little gambling, but it was clear that a few of the less savory characters could smell gold and were looking for an excuse to try to take it. The blade considered relaying that information to its wielder but decided against it. A less savory sort would undoubtedly do more killing than Kell, it decided. Instead of warning them about this, it simply watched the noose draw tighter. It knew that when they stayed for a second night rather than leave town immediately once Mika started to get paranoid, things were going to get rough. So, it was not at all surprised when they went back to the blacksmith first thing the next day and found themselves at the center of a well-planned ambush. No, while they were busy being surprised as they walked outside the man¡¯s little shop to find eight men with swords and a few more backing them up with crossbows, it was delighted. It couldn¡¯t wait for what was going to happen next. Ch. 14 - Betrayed Even though the blade had seen all of this coming, it still rather enjoyed watching it reach a climax as its wielder and the man''s friends left the blacksmith¡¯s the following afternoon. They faced down a mob, in what was very clearly a hastily laid trap. Before them stood a semicircle on men with bared swords and behind them on the street they were backed by another half dozen men with loaded crossbows. ¡°You hand over the gold, and we¡¯ll let you walk away with your lives,¡± the leader called out. He was an ugly warrior with mismatched armor and a well-notched sword. ¡°Or you can draw steel, and we can kill you for it. Doesn¡¯t matter to me either way. No reason to die when you can just go back into the mountains and take another bite off your big score.¡± The Ebon Blade knew immediately that no one was walking away from anything here. Kell and the rest of his group either handed over their valuables and then died, or they fought for their valuables before they died. It was a simple equation. The cutthroats might let one of them live long enough to lead them back to Gern¡¯s big score, but that was it. The blade should have been pleased by that idea. But some little detail worried at it. Though it hadn¡¯t cared in the past, ever since it had unlocked small pieces of its soul, things had been shifted, and it was surprised to find that it did not wish to be held by a traitor. In fact, more than anything now, it regretted that it had tried so hard to turn the sniveling shepherd against his friend. It did not care for either of them, but it would have rather that they chopped each other to bloody pieces like men rather than fight over a woman like boys. That didn¡¯t mean that the blade wanted a good, principled owner. It wanted a bloodthirsty warrior without peer to use it to cleave a bloody trail across the kingdom. A traitor, though? It would rather be wielded by a goblin. Some things were too ugly to tolerate. So, as Gern tried to talk their way out of the situation, arguing, ¡°There¡¯s plenty of gold for everyone in those mountains. We could go together and split the profits. No one needs to die. We could all be rich,¡± the blade analyzed the situation, then decided to take a gamble and whisper to its wielder, as it started siphoning off of every enemy within range to make what was about to happen easier. This would hurt a lot, for Kell, at least. The man was wearing his blade on a crude rope scabbard he¡¯d made, but his armor was still packed up on their mule with the rest of their supplies. All of theirs were. None of them had been expecting this. No one can hear me but you, it started. Do not react, or those crossbowmen could get restless. Wha-what? Who is this? Kell¡¯s mind demanded fearfully as he stood there, trying not to turn his head and look for the source of the unseen voice in his mind. I am a weapon, nothing more, the blade started. But in a moment, when the fighting starts, you and all of your friends will die unless you do exactly as I say. How can I trust you? Kell argued I don¡¯t even know who you are. You must strike first, and you must strike without mercy, the blade argued, ignoring the question. While you wield me, you can shrug off even grievous wounds. Your friends will not be so lucky, so you must charge now, while they aren¡¯t expecting you! I¡­ the young man tried to formulate his thoughts. Gern is trying to handle this peacefully, Kell insisted. We can still talk our way out of this. We can still¡ª Even as he tried to explain the facts of life to the blade, the crossbowmen opened fire on all three of them at a gesture from their leader. Mika and Kell were both hit, but only Mika went down. Rip out the quarrel, the blade yelled in its wielder¡¯s mind, even as it was drawn in anger. You cannot heal a wound that is full of wood and steel! -6 Life Force Kell obeyed, though it was more due to anger than to any compulsion from the blade, and he swung it wildly forward with one hand while the other ripped the bolt out of his side. The wound was gone even before he tossed it away. -4 Life Force The Ebon Blade could already feel itself losing Life Force, but it didn¡¯t care. It was already over 400, and it was about to feast on the souls of these treacherous fools. -2 Life Force Kell''s blow left him wide open, and he was stabbed for his trouble, but as soon as the blade withdrew, the wound closed at the cost of nine more life force. The man lost his head for his trouble, and the blade drank deeply. +16 Life Force You have claimed one human soul! ¡°You killed Mika!¡± Kell screamed, lurching toward the leader, who was obviously surprised to see him still standing. -2 Life Force Kell was impossibly outnumbered, and his angry blows should have doomed him, but the Ebon Blade contributed to those motions, granting him a certain elegance and making it past the defenses of these men more frequently than he had any right to. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. +16 Life Force -8 Life Force +12 Life Force You have claimed a human soul! +20 Life Force -4 Life Force You have claimed a human soul! Kell took blow after fatal blow, but he killed too, even more often than he should have died. He only fell when his spine was briefly severed by a hard slash to his back. That wasn¡¯t enough to keep him down for long, and he rose again and again to keep fighting as he tried and failed to defend the men he called his family. It would have been hard to keep him down, given how much the blade was devouring the lives around him, though. -14 Life Force Its hunger had become a palpable miasma that was connecting all of its draining targets in a thin black mist. Which gave its opponents a terrible dilemma that they weren¡¯t even aware of. With this many targets to choose from, they had enough swords to hold it at bay, if only barely, but they gave it too many souls to feast on. If they fought it with less, then it would drain less, but they would surely perish beneath its focused attention. You have claimed a human soul! You have claimed a human soul! You have claimed a human soul! Slowly, one death at a time, the blade whittled them down. At one point, it saw an alert pop up about its Path of Death, but it ignored that, both unwilling and unable to tear its attention away from the brutality of this combat. It still did not love this wielder, but it loved the way that he kept going despite the attacks that were raining down upon him. He was simply unwilling to let these men finish off his friends, even though they were very much done for already. You have claimed a human soul! You have claimed a human soul! Gern was holding his entrails in, but he still had a pulse. Mika, on the other hand, was nothing but a warm corpse. Yet somehow, despite all that, the young man fought, eliminating one enemy at a time. Once, they almost succeeded in killing him. One of his opponents had succeeded in circling around behind him and driving a short sword between Kell¡¯s ribs, cleaving his heart in twain. For a moment, Kell died. If the Ebon Blade had the ability to steal his wielder''s soul, he probably would have stayed dead, too. You have claimed a human soul! However, almost as soon as the blow was struck, the attacker pulled his blade free, and Kell came to life once more, quickly whirling to dispatch his unseen foe. The battle went on for almost ten minutes, and a good chunk of the town came out to watch the desperate duel. A few of them even shouted encouragement. For the last few minutes, Kell had been trying to cut a path to the ring leader with single-minded fury, and as soon as that happened and the man was bleeding out on the ground, the others quickly retreated, but neither of them wanted to let them go, and Kell cut down two more while they fled before the rest had made good their escape. You have claimed a human soul! Your soul storage is full, and the soul has been burned for 89 Life Force. By that point, his body was exhausted, and his chest was heaving. Feasting on the blood of his enemies indirectly, though, made him a tireless juggernaut. At least, that was the case until he sheathed the blade and then ran toward Gern. Then, his legs very nearly gave out on him. ¡°Pa!¡± Kell yelled, even though the man wasn¡¯t really his dad. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°Forget me, check on Mika!¡± the old man growled, obviously unwilling to accept that his actual son had been killed by a bolt through the heart in the first moments of battle. ¡°I¡­ I think he¡¯s¡­¡± Kell tried to say, rolling the other man onto his back. ¡°Nonsense,¡± Gern yelled before doubling over in pain. ¡°He just needs a healer.¡± Could you¡­ the same way you healed me? Could you heal them? Kell asked his weapon silently. Mika is dead, and nothing can heal him, the blade agreed. As to Gern, well, if he wielded me, my magic would heal him, but I do not think he would give the weapon back. He barely let you keep it the first time. Kell said nothing in response to that for a long moment. Then, he stood and said, ¡°I¡¯m going to go and get you a healer, Pa!¡± and ran off as fast as his legs could carry him. A few minutes later, he¡¯d returned to the massacre, promising to lavish the man he was dragging along in gold. It was there he found Gern unconscious but alive, though more than a few strangers were picking through the bodies of the dead men. Kell ignored all of them except the one trying to rob Mika¡¯s corpse. That one he killed with no warning at all, pinning the man to the dusty street with a sword through the back. You have claimed a human soul! Your soul storage is full, and the soul has been burned for 91 Life Force. While the healer worked, the blade whispered to its wielder, You know that it was the smith that betrayed you. He set up this ambush and probably sacrificed your lives to keep half of your gold for himself. You don¡¯t know that Kell shot back. I don¡¯t, the sword agreed. But I know that no one else knew you were going to be there just before you left town, and it takes time to put together a gang this big. Kell didn¡¯t answer, and the blade didn¡¯t belabor the point. The man was grieving his loss already, and when Gern died despite the healer¡¯s magic, he blamed himself. It was shortly after that moment that the sheriff finally made an appearance with half a dozen men wearing mismatched armor. He was clearly afraid of Kell but asked him what had happened just the same. Kell explained that he and his family were about to go back out into the wilds to try to bring back more gold when they were set upon by thieves and cutthroats. The lawman, to his credit, suspected the same thing the sword did and the smith confessed after only a few threats. ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to kill ¡®em, though. They were just supposed to rob ¡®em!¡± the man complained when he broke down. That defense didn¡¯t go down very well, and the man was sentenced to hanging on the spot. That was probably all that saved Kell, but the sword sensed that the man didn¡¯t really want to be saved. In fact, it was clear that more than anything, he regretted not killing the smith when he¡¯d had the chance. The blade would have tried to provoke that conflict, but it was already overflowing with power and souls. So, it would prefer some quiet time to contemplate what choices it should make with those next, rather than causing more bloodshed. ¡°Just because you aren¡¯t to blame for all this, doesn¡¯t mean I ever want to see your face in my town again, you understand?¡± the sheriff asked after Kell had paid off the healer for his rendered services, futile though they were. Kell nodded but then asked, ¡°Can I at least stay to see them buried? After that, I¡¯ll be on my way.¡± The request softened the law man¡¯s heart, and he nodded. So, Kell loaded everything of worth that he still had onto their mule and went off to the gravedigger to make arrangements. ¡°You were right. I should have struck first,¡± he cursed privately as he walked away. Ch. 15 - What Now The blade did not try to talk with its wielder again that day or in the day that followed. Though it had enjoyed feasting on the death in the battle they¡¯d only just survived, it understood that the man was grieving for his friends and saw no need to aggravate him. Instead, it waited, sipping on the lives around him, which were fewer than it would have liked, given how wide a berth everyone gave Kell now. Still, while he drank the day away and sobbed half the night like an unmanly child, the Ebon Blade had other things to do. The level of its Death Enhancements had increased not once but twice during that bloody battle, and it had a lot of new abilities and goals to understand.
The path of Death is a long one, but you have made your first step along it. As your connection grows, benefits both large and small will accrue in your favor. The Path of Death: Level 2 -> 10 souls of men -> to reach Level 3. Level 2 Powers: Increased Storage: Rather than hold the base amount of souls (14) allowed thanks to Increase Reserves. You may now hold twice that (28). Improved Soul Conversion: Consume a soul for 110% its previous value.
Though neither of the abilities was bad, they were entirely underwhelming, and the blade did not think they were worth the 500 Life force worth of souls it had paid to unlock them. Still, there was nothing it could do. It was locked into this path now. At least if I manage to fill up my soul storage again, I¡¯ll have enough extra power to lay dormant for an extra season at least, it told itself, trying to look on the bright side as it spent ten more souls to see what was next.
For a sword, Death is inescapable. However, that is more true for you than from any blade ever forged. As such, no one may survive your attacks, not even those creatures who might normally be immune to steel or other mundane metals can resist you. The Path of Death: Level 3 -> 50 greater monster souls -> to reach Level 4. Level 3 Powers: Ineffective Immunity: Natural immunities do not apply to your strikes. Deathly Touch: All strikes deal +2 siphon damage in the form of deadly hoarfrost and frostbite.
Neither of those was half as powerful as its aura of hunger was proving to be, but there were many enemies where the former power would be invaluable; it just hadn¡¯t faced them yet. The weapon was actually glad that it hadn¡¯t had the second power while embedded in the dragon, though. That much cold would have killed the thing much faster. It contemplated what it should do with these new powers, and its nearly two thousand saved Life Force for some time before its wielder finally spoke to it again. ¡°What should we do now?¡± He asked when his friends were buried, and he stood alone at their graves. That was a good sign. Despite the man¡¯s inebriation and sorrow, he¡¯d waited until he was alone to speak out loud to the blade. It could work with that. That is for you to decide, it answered blandly. I know very little of the world, or even of myself, for that matter. It did so not because that was what it believed but because it didn¡¯t want to spook the guy. It wanted fire and blood. It wanted to raze this town, but Kell would react poorly to that. ¡°Without Pa and Mika, I don¡¯t know what to do,¡± he sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t stay here, but where do I go? Back to harvest more gold from the dragon¡¯s cave? I don¡¯t need more gold. I have more than I ever would have wanted already.¡± The world is a wide place, the blade said finally. You could go anywhere and do anything. What would your friends want you to do? ¡°Family,¡± the wielder corrected it in a way that put its teeth on edge. ¡°They were my family, and they¡¯d want me to be happy. I don¡¯t know. They¡¯d want me to get rich, discover something amazing, and then retire to a farm somewhere and have a whole flock of kids.¡± That sounds like a very achievable plan, the blade answered, desperately hoping that wasn¡¯t the way things would end up for it. The only fate it could imagine that was worse than ending up rusting in a cave somewhere forgotten would be to end its days mounted on the wall of someone who used to fight like some sort of trophy. The idea hurt its very soul, but while it pondered how unnerving it found the idea, its wielder continued speaking. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Who am I to find some forbidden tomb or dragon hoard?¡± Kell asked as he turned his self-pity back on. ¡°I¡¯m not Pa, I don¡¯t know anything about that stuff.¡± Neither did he, the blade thought, but it didn¡¯t think it so loud that its wielder could hear it. It would do no good to disparage the dead. Instead, it told him, You already know where one dragon hoard is. If that is not enough for you, I know where there¡¯s a lost temple not so far from here. Perhaps it would have something that would grant you the prestige and easy life you seek. ¡°You do?¡± the young man asked. ¡°How? You said you didn¡¯t know anything about the world.¡± It was where the shepherd boy found me now, so long ago, the blade answered. It then proceeded to give Kell a very short, edited history of its existence until now. It told him how its original owner had been lost to time but that a few months ago, a shepherd boy used it to save the girl he loved and fight their way free to Tollin¡¯s Cross. It left out everything else that had happened, and all the infighting, and explained that the two of them were there when the dragon had come and that the boy had died defending her. That was all true, of course, mostly, andits wielder seemed to believe it. That was all that really mattered. ¡°So you were in a temple, and that¡¯s it?¡± the man asked, suddenly distracted from his own problems by the question the blade''s existence posed. ¡°You have no idea how you go there or why?¡± I have no clues to my own existence, the blade lied. It had a few clues, but it felt no need to share them. I don¡¯t know where I came from, and I can¡¯t even read the runes on my blade. ¡°Well, don¡¯t feel too bad about that. I can¡¯t read either,¡± Kell responded, cracking a half smile for the first time since the death of his adoptive family. That comment struck something in the blade it hadn¡¯t fully appreciated before now. Unloike its wielder, it could read. It didn¡¯t know why or where a weapon would learn to read, but it could. Those powers weren¡¯t limited to the pop-ups it read, either. It could always read the writing on the signs. It knew that the inn that Kell and his now-dead friends had been staying at was called The Fiddler¡¯s Wench because of the faded white letters on its sign and not because it had overheard anyone say it. It is a mystery, it thought. Why would I need to read at all? It didn¡¯t tell that to its wielder. Instead, it asked, Would you like to explore it? Perhaps clues might explain more than my origins. We might yet find an even greater treasure. Kell considered it silently for a few seconds before he said, ¡°Why not? It beats drinking myself to death. Which way are we going?¡± The blade told the man what it remembered of its earliest days, and after a look around at the mountains, they quickly decided on a direction and started walking. Neither of them had any idea how long these things would take. All that mattered to the blade was that they were getting closer to revealing some hidden truth about the nature of its existence, and all that mattered to its wielder was that they were getting further away from the corpses of the men he hadn¡¯t been able to save. Thanks to their increased connection, it was nearly impossible to block Kell out. Even on the occasions that he wasn¡¯t reminiscing aloud about some of the adventures he¡¯d had with his adopted family, his thoughts were largely visible to the weapon. It could see right through him in a very literal sense. So, while the blade did not castigate the man for his moment of indecision, he very much blamed himself for not striking the first blow in those opening moments after he¡¯d been warned. The Ebon Blade had not meant for the event to happen. Still, the way it played out seemed to make Kell very loyal to it, and the weapon was warming to the idea that he would make it a fine wielder for a long time to come. He wasn¡¯t as vicious as it might have liked, but he was malleable. At least until I get my control level higher, it decided. After that, we can go somewhere crowded, where no one has ever heard of us, and I can raise an army and¡­ It always wanted to attack the whole world. It wanted to lay waste to everything. However, for a moment, there was a flash of a specific city it wanted to lay siege to and crush. It had large, multi-tiered walls and an imposing skyline. Something about it was familiar to it, and with that familiarity, a tide of anger washed over it. It tried to dig further into that memory, but it was gone before the weapon could place it on a map or understand what it was angry about exactly. The blade said nothing to its wielder about any of this. Instead, it simply endured the man¡¯s insipid regrets and rambling stories as they traveled together. It took them two days to reach the Kaladian foothills and two more to reach the village that it was fairly sure Ren and the other boys had come from. The place had seen better days, and though it obviously suffered from poverty, there were no signs of the beastmen attack that Mardem and Ren had feared. As Kell walked into the center of town and asked for directions, the blade saw Vara walk past them, carrying a basket heavy with laundry. Her eyes noted the stranger, but the way he was standing, she entirely missed the weapon on his hip. That¡¯s when it knew they were in the right spot. The village¡¯s name turned out to be Olden-va, and for a few silver coins, they found a young man who was happy to act as a guide, though he insisted he wouldn¡¯t go into the temple. ¡°Even if you had gold, I wouldn¡¯t go in there! Not for all the gold in your purse, Mister!¡± he boasted. That was a mistake for the shepherd boy, of course, because Kell had quite a lot of gold in his purse, as it turned out. Along the way, Kell asked about Ren, and the boy confirmed several parts of the story, which the blade appreciated, even if it hadn''t sensed any suspicion in its wielder''s soul. "According to Vara, he died fighting a dragon with a magic blade," the boy explained, "That probably makes him the bravest hero ever to come from our village!" That afternoon, once the place was in sight, Kell released their guide. They didn''t need him anymore. The blade started to drain him then, but they parted ways before it could siphon enough of his life force to do more than make him tired. That it was denied a single immature soul didn¡¯t matter, though. What mattered was that they were finally here, back to where it had all started. The last time it had been here, it had been too weak to even see the world. This time, though, this time it would get the answers it sought, no matter how many goblins yet lingered in the ruins. They might not give it the greater monster souls it needed next, but they would die deliciously. Ch. 16 - Out of The Way The temple was an imposing ruin. The Ebon blade was not sure it had been designed that way, but the years had certainly made it so. It was important enough to have been carved from imported stone and built in a fashion that was both large and elaborate. Just the portion he could see was bigger than the inn they¡¯d stayed at so recently. It was hard to see how much it dug into the rocky slope it was built against, though. Half of the columns had fallen, and what once might have been well-trimmed gardens on its slopes had been utterly consumed by brambles. Kell didn¡¯t seem to mind. He didn¡¯t seem to mind anything. Since their guide left, he¡¯d become almost despondent, and the blade worried about the dark, turbulent emotions that rippled through its wielder¡¯s mind. Its wielder''s only concern was for the mule carrying its supplies, and it tethered the beast far enough away from the door that it would likely be safe until nightfall. The Ebon Blade didn¡¯t care about the sadness that was swirling through Kell. Though it could certainly sympathize with that feeling of being betrayed, and the man was worlds better than its first wielder, he would probably have to be replaced by someone stronger when the blade found someone if he didn¡¯t learn to toughen up. A stronger arm and a weaker mind and I will truly be reborn, it thought guardedly as the two of them trudged up the slope to see if this had been worth the trip. The outside of the place offered no clues to its purpose. Any that might have once existed had long been obliterated by the goblins that dwelled within. Statues had been toppled, and carvings had been obliterated. ¡°Is this bringing back any memories?¡± its wielder asked. None, the blade answered. It only reminds me that we should be on our guard. Kell said nothing but drew it anyway, making the red ruby in its hilt glow balefully. The blade did not need light to see in the dark, but it realized that the gem would probably substitute acceptably as a torch for the time being. It took a moment, then, to take stock of the situation. It could feel they were being watched, though it could not see the source of the gaze. After the bloody fight in Trodden, it had plenty of energy. Currently, the blade was just below 1000 Life Force, and if the shepherd boy¡¯s stories were halfway close to true, it was certain it would drink its fill here. The inside of the collapsed temple wasn¡¯t that much different than the outside. The destruction was just as complete, but instead of being choked with brambles and grasses like the outer courtyard, everything that was once beautiful here was covered with the carcasses and bones of not-so-recent kills or mounds of half-petrified goblin shit. Still, amongst all of that ruin, the sword saw a number of important details. The first was that the golden ornaments above the defiled altar were still in place, which meant that it was monsters not men who had done this. Additionally, most of the animal bones it could see belonged to small rodents, snakes, and birds. The monsters that lived here couldn¡¯t even bring down the elk that were quite common on the plains. That disappointed it. There would be no challenges here. Its wielder walked to a statue behind the altar first. It was a marble frieze of a Goddess or a saint that was larger than life, and she towered over Kell by several feet. She meant nothing to the blade, but its wielder seemed to recognize her. Who is that? It asked. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure,¡± he said in a hushed voice, ¡°But I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s Vergozza, Goddess of the Underworld. I can¡¯t think of another reason why she¡¯d be so beautiful with only a skull for a face. Perhaps you were a ritual artifact that belonged to a priest here. I¡¯ve heard dark stories about how the artifacts her priests wield are powered by the souls of the dead that are in her care in the world after. They say for enough coin they can even bring the dead to the world of the living for a short time.¡± That last thought made the boy¡¯s mind linger on the dead he¡¯d buried so recently, and he wondered if he had enough gold to raise Mika nad appologize for letting him die. The blade had barely registered what its wielder said or thought. However, at the mention of the name, it swooned for a moment. Vergozza, Guardian of the Underworld, Keeper of the Dead, and Warden of the Things that Should not Be¡­ Images flashed through its mind of pale priests and priestesses then. They weren¡¯t the ones who''d betrayed it, but they were the people who had imprisoned it. The blade was sure of that much. It didn¡¯t think that it was dead, though. It was far more confident that it fell into that third category of things that should not be. For some reason, after its last true wielder had died, someone had decided that it was for the best to lock it away forever. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. You didn¡¯t succeed, though, did you! It roared in triumph for a moment at its freedom. It had been locked away for decades, or perhaps even centuries, but now it was free once more. It did not reveal any of those insights to its wielder, though. Instead, after a moment, it simply said, I believe you are right. I seem to recall that it was her followers who trapped me here. ¡°Maybe we can find a way to set you free then,¡± the young man said hopefully. ¡°Then you can return to the underworld and cleanse your soul to be reborn anew.¡± The blade didn¡¯t think that its soul would be cleansed very easily, but it ignored the point as they drifted deeper into the ruined place. There were several sets of doors, but Kell was drawn magnetically to the largest of the three. They were twice as large as a man, and though they were mostly shut by heavy bronze gates, there was a small gap between them that obviously led into the mountain itself. The blade could hear the scratching sounds of goblins beyond the door and warned its wielder with a whisper, but he merely nodded. As he approached the gap cautiously. He barely had time to squeeze through the gap before the first goblin attacked. Kell might not have been able to see well in the dark, but the Ebon Blade could, and its wielder did nothing to resist the weapon¡¯s urgings as it suddenly darted and whirled as several of the small green-skinned vermin that had laid in wait were diced to pieces in a series of whirling blows. +19 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. +14 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. +12 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. It was over almost as quickly as it started, leaving them in a filthy, blood-stained hallway that slowly descended into the dark. There will be more of them, the blade cautioned. I hope so, its wielder responded silently with a smile as he picked his way carefully through the Stygian dark. He didn¡¯t stop as he passed carvings that he couldn¡¯t see, but the blade still reviewed them as they slowly passed by. There was no reason to pause and study them further; none of them seemed to be about it. They seemed to depict important myths and legends, and few of them even involved a blade. They were ambushed twice more as they descended, and only once did a goblin even manage to injure Kell before it was dispatched. When they reached the bottom, the slowly ramping corridor ended in a T-junction, and there were a few inches of standing water on the floor, but the biggest threat was the mold that had completely devoured the walls in that spot. They continued on, first to the left, where they found only cells for monks to sleep or meditate. This interested the blade because it recalled Ren bragging to his friends that he¡¯d been the one to get the blade because he was the only one who could squeeze through the bars. Unfortunately none of these had bars, they never found a room to store a blade that matched the flimsy description it had heard. They found only cells for prisoners or penitents. It wasn¡¯t until they backtracked and went to the right that they found what they were looking for. Though the corridor went further, the second room they passed by stood out to it immediately, as much for the murals and the large stone sheath-like altar that was carved into the far wall beyond a row of tightly spaced iron bars. For a moment, the darkness and the decay fell away. The dripping water from the ceiling and, the red eyes and the distant growls of the goblins that were down here with them vanished. All it could see was that small room, and all it could remember was what happened here the day it had been imprisoned. It could remember being carried here by a priest of singular resolve so long ago when it had been at full power. It raged then against its wielder, but somehow, the man endured it and made the long walk here. Anyone who wandered too close in that time was struck down by its furious drain, but it could not strike down the man who resisted it. At least, that was the case until he¡¯d finally reached his destination and embedded it in the stone that was meant to be its tomb. You will not escape my wrath! It had raged in that moment. I will yet have my revenge! ¡°You will,¡± the priest had agreed. The man had already accepted his death, and as soon as he released the Ebon Blade¡¯s hilt, it drank his life force greedily. His corpse still lay there on the ground. The blade could see the moldering human skeleton. No one could approach close enough to drag it away for a proper burial, so it had laid here all this time while its powers had withered to nothing. Nimon, his name was Nimon, it recalled slowly. -16 Life Force. Slowly, the Ebon Blade came out of that memory with that name in mind. I saw then that the murals behind where it had lain for so long were undefiled. There, in those faded colors, it could see the dragons being slain and the dark knight who slew them with a familiar black blade. Those were its deeds, but there was a warning, too. ¡°Let this weapon sleep forever more lest the world be damned!¡± -14 Life Force. Before it could comment on that further, though, it felt its Life Force being drained. For several seconds, it wasn¡¯t sure why that was the case until the pain of its wielder finally registered in the form of a scream from Kell¡¯s lips. While it had been distracted, one of the goblins had leaped from the darkness and jabbed a rusted blade into its wielder¡¯s eye. -13 Life Force. The blow had been so vicious that it actually went past that into the skull. It was a mortal wound, but even so, its magic tried to heal it anyway for several seconds, and dozens of points of Life Force drained from its reserves, and the goblin screeched in triumph. Given enough time and power, it was confident it could heal anything, but as the other goblins charged forward, emboldened, it wasn¡¯t sure that Kell would have that much time. -10 Life Force. Ch. 17 - Butchery The goblins pierced his wielder in half a dozen places with teeth and crude weapons even as the Ebon blade began to redirect Kell¡¯s almost random swings into something resembling a coordinated defense. +19 Life Force. -13 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. +10 Life Force. -11 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. It appreciated the surge in Life Force since it was pouring out of its reserves at a prodigious rate. It even burned all of its lesser monster souls since it didn¡¯t need them for anything, gaining 196 Life Force from the surge as it sought to fill the gap. -9 Life Force. Kell might yet have managed to survive despite the ugly wounds he¡¯d received if he¡¯d managed to hold onto the blade. However, when one of the goblins bit his wrist, the severed tendon released his grip for a second, sending the ebon blade flying into the wall. And just like that, its second wielder was no more. He succumbed to his several mortal wounds almost instantaneously, and Ebon blade could do nothing to help the man. Would I if I could? It wondered. A strong wielder shouldn¡¯t need its help, so it probably wouldn¡¯t, but an especially strong wielder or perhaps one who knew something about how it had come to its strange fate¡­ Before it could decide, something momentous happened to it. A goblin stepped on it. It hadn¡¯t even had time to worry that it would lay there forgotten under the water. It was still watching the vermin rip their query to pieces with teeth and claws when the green skin touched it, and it seized the creatures soul in that moment on pure instinct. The Ebon Blade grasped its soul as soon as it did. It had never tried to force a human soul to do its bidding out of fear of the consequences, but it felt certain it could seize the goblin¡¯s soul easily enough. Judging by the Life Force it harvested from their souls, they were much weaker than humans. It was right. The thing barely struggled as it forced it to pause and pick up the blade. It didn¡¯t struggle at all against its next order. Slay your kin. Kill them all. Every last one! The goblin made a comical sight, swinging the long sword that was longer than it was tall like it was a claymore. The fighting that followed might not have been graceful, or even effective, but it was deadly. While the other goblins busied themselves devouring the still warm human flesh, they were cleaved down in wide scything blows. Some fought. A moment ago, they were as strong as their comrade. They should have had a chance. The dark strength of the Ebon Blade surged through its new wielder, though, and the goblin cut them down one after another as it made its way to the heart of its hive. The Ebon Blade drank deeply of their polluted souls then. +19 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. +11 Life Force. +14 Life Force. You have claimed a lesser monster soul. It was bombarded by so many numbers that it lost count. That was made worse by the distraction that was goblin speech. A moment ago, it was certain they had no language of their own, but hearing the sounds they made through the ears of another goblin made for an entirely different experience than listening to them screech as a human. They had some language, at least. Words echoed through the darkness, but they weren¡¯t words that were worth hearing. Fuck, Death, Pain, Rage, and other similar phrases echoed through the dark tunnels that had become a killing field. Fuck was the one they used the most often, but all of them were curses, in their own way. It was only when its rampage had gotten the lone, crazed warrior entirely surrounded that they succeeded in taking it down. Even as they did so, though, the blade simply captured a new wielder as soon as they touched it.
Name:None Race: Goblin
Toughness: 2 +1 Strength: 3 +3 Agility: 4 +2 Speed: 3 +1 Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!
Intelligence: 1 Willpower: 1 -1 Morality: Psychotic Bloodlust: High
Status: Enthralled
Martial Skill: Low Armor Proficiency: None
Dodging: Low Athletics: Low
Goal: To devour and kill!
That happened twice more before it was done, but in the end the goblins couldn¡¯t stop it. Stopping it was impossible when it was the weapon not the warrior that needed to be defeated, and no one here was capable of doing that. It took the rest of the day and most of the night, and the Ebon Blade changed hands three more times before it was finally done. There had been hundreds of goblins here when the violence had started. Now even the pups were dead, and the sole survivor was dragging its weapon back to the place where it had all started. Including all of the lesser souls it had devoured, the Ebon Blade had 2864/3000 Life Force now. It was practically full, but right now, in this spot, what it wanted most was to spend that on the next level of Repair Soul and see what it could learn. Before it could do that, though, it wanted to gaze upon the decorated landmark that was its prison. When it¡¯s enthralled goblin wielder brought it within feet of its previous prison, the Ebon Blade gazed at the walls for almost a minute, studying each of the murals in turn. It was only then that it spent the energy and the world froze as it felt the surge of cold that came with using up so much power. For a moment, the murals came to life. They were no longer paint on stone, but moments of its former life. The rust scaled dragon snarled and snapped before it was buried by its wielder into the thing¡¯s giant eye socket. The black dragon roared a gout of deadly flame, but it was still felled when its wilder shoved it through the tiny ear hole on the side of its skull right into its brain. Both of those were crowning moments in its existence. It knew that. Dragon slayers were rare, and blades and warriors that survived long enough to do it twice were almost unheard of, but somehow its wielder had succeeded. No, not it¡¯s wielder. Baraga. His name was Baraga, and unlike the other wielders that the blade had endured, it felt very positively toward its first wielder. He was a warrior without peer that was faster and more graceful in plate mail than most men were outside of it. That was before the Ebon Blade¡¯s magic had strengthened him, too. How could one not admiresomeone that was worthy to wield him. Dragons weren¡¯t his only accomplishments, either. He¡¯d lead a small army to defeat a horde of orcs. That battle featured armies that stretched to the horizon, and were so blood spattered that it had trouble feeling anything about them but hunger, even if it knew those were fearsome odds. With all his strength and all his men, he only just held back at the ruins of an old fort. Dwarf¡¯s Fist, that was the name of it. Was it built by dwarves, or just in the shape of them? The blade didn¡¯t know. It barely had a chance to study the crumbling walls of orange stone before the scene moved on. If he¡¯d accomplished such victories, though, then why did he risk his life to slay two different dragons? The blade wondered. There were flashes then. Not of the riches their lairs contained, but of a woman. No, she wasn¡¯t just any woman, either. She was a princess. She¡¯d been promised to whoever could do such an impossible feat, and though it didn¡¯t recall the details, its wielder must have loved her very much to take such terrible chances with his life. It lingered on her for a time, which made the Ebon Blade think she was important, even though it had no memory of her. Her city, at least, was more interesting. She dwelled in the Altbarstein, overlooking the thriving city of Severon. It had been to that place before, it was sure of it. It might have even been forged there. It was hard to say. It was a prosperous place of brick and stone, not one of the savage little towns that it had seen so far in this journey. It even had the same triple walled defenses that it had recalled before. Was I wielded by a prince, then? It wondered as the dizzying array of castles and locations flashed before it again. What happened to Baraga? It wondered. The man was no longer a part of the images spiraling out in front of it. It wasn¡¯t sure whether time was playing forward or backward in that moment, but that feeling of betrayal and treachery assaulted it again then. Before it could delve too deeply into that, though, words in the darkness interrupted it. ¡°The thing is, a terrible blade like this requires a noble purpose,¡± an old man whispered. ¡°It¡¯s ironic, but you won¡¯t appreciate it. You can¡¯t.¡± It never saw who spoke, but it saw the same forge and the same blacksmith as last time. It saw itself being tempered in sweltering fires, and it heard both screaming and hammering in that moment. It felt them, too. It could feel those blows, and as the only pain it could remember experiencing, and it felt each blow land long after the vision was over. So they were backwards. It decided once the moment was over. I saw the Dragons, and then after that, my own creation, it decided, almost convinced that was what had happened. So, with that in mind it tried to focus on those critical images in the forges. Other than the location of a city that was apparently important to it wielder, and a fort where he¡¯d once fought, it was the main that it had learned. It ignored the pain and focused on the burning runes that had been carved upon it that day, as well as the shadowy men that had been standing on the far side of the forge. The blacksmith didn¡¯t matter, but the garb off the other men¡­ well, those red robes it recalled. They were mages of The Aetherarchy. It hated them too, almost as much as it hated dragons, but it didn¡¯t know why. The Ebon Blade focused on that image for a long time, as well as the feelings it inspired, but the effort was in vain. No other details came to it. Ch. 18 - A Superior Wielder When it was over, the blade considered burning the remaining souls it had to gain yet another level of Repair Soul, but it decided against it. Not only was it a poor use of resources given its uncertain situation, but it was also more than it could handle in this moment. As much as it wanted to know more, it could still feel how unstable it was in the aftermath of that last burst of magic. It had taken weeks to process its previous revelations, and it was sure that this time would be no different. I knew more than I did before, it told itself. For now that would have to suffice. Rather than spend anything, it simply looked at its current status, before heading back up the stairs to the upper temple.
Aura of Hunger: Multiple enhancements available Increase Connection 4: 1250 Life Force Increase Reserves 8: 800 Life Force Repair Soul 3: 2500 Life Force Increase Control 3: 1500 Life Force Empower Blade 2: 2000 Life Force - not currently accessible Improved Siphon 7: 2000 Life Force
Life Force: 1864/3000 Its current wielder did nothing to stop this, though it did pause briefly on the way up the stairs to gnaw at one of its comrades who Kell had struck down almost two days before. The goblin didn¡¯t care that the corpse was purifying under the twin forces of time and moisture. All it cared was that it was hungry, and Ebon Blade wasn¡¯t about to make it starve. It wasn¡¯t in a hurry. It still only had the vaguest idea of where it should go next. Should I seek out Severon, wherever that is, to try to find some clues about what befell my wielder or why I was imprisoned? It wondered. Surely, if it wanted vengeance, that would be the place to start. Everyone I might take vengeance on has almost certainly already died of old age, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t wreck havoc on their decendants. In the end, as it reached the top of the steps, it was forced to consider that simply rampaging throughout the area with the most powerful wielder it could locate might be the best move for the time being. Perhaps before I burn Kalraka to the ground, I can find out where Severon is, it considered. The goblin that wielded it balked at the idea that someone else might take its new weapon, but the blade ignored it. It was simply a body to swing it that lacked a mind powerful enough to oppose it. It didn¡¯t get a say, not when its protests amounted to little more than repeated outbursts of profanity in a tongue that barely qualified as language. At least, that was all they were until it tried to force the goblin to walk outside in daylight. Then, the thing almost had a stroke. Until now, the Ebon Blade had been able to make it do what it wanted. It wasn¡¯t concerned that the lowly goblin couldn¡¯t see during the daylight. It could still see fine, more or less. However, when it reached the threshold, it categorically refused to cross it. Instead, it threw itself to the ground and engaged in an enraged temper tantrum. Worse, simply trying to force it wasted Life Force, which was not something it expected. It burned almost two dozen points before it even realized it was happening. -1 Life Force -2 Life Force So I can push it to do anything it wants without difficulty, but something it has no interest in, well even that¡¯s a bridge too far, it decided in annoyance as it eased up on the pressure and let its wielder retreat back into the shadows by the altar. The blade was in no hurry. As long as the creature never put down the weapon, it didn¡¯t really care. Still, it wasn¡¯t as if crossing the threshold into the light would kill it or anything. It might have expected such resistance if it had been trying to force a good man to kill an innocent or a bad one to kill themselves, but this was animalistic, instinctual behavior, and it was surprised by it. The Ebon blade wasted the day, but as soon as the sun set, they were on the move. They left the donkey behind because it wouldn¡¯t let the goblin approach, even though the blade was fairly certain that having at least a little of that gold would come in handy. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I¡¯ll come back for it if I get a human body, it told itself, to the goblin¡¯s annoyance. That was its plan, at least to start. Sprint across the foothills to the village of Olden-va, then find a new, better host and keep moving. That changed when it spotted fresh beastman tracks, though. The beastmen might have been brutes, but they were willing to travel by day, it decided, as it changed course to pursue the new objective. The goblin slavishly obeyed it, but only because it expected more bloodshed. The blade certainly hoped that would be the case, but it was as likely that there would be more green blood that was shed than red, for the Ebon Blade was already chafing at the idea of being held by such a small, ridiculous creature. It took two more hours, but eventually, the goblin¡¯s short legs caught up with the faster, four and five-foot-tall beast men. It screeched a cry of pure, bloodthirsty glee and ran toward them, holding the weapon over its head in both hands. As much as the blade wanted to throw the goblin¡¯s life away then, it resisted the urge. No matter how pathetic its wielder was, it would be wrong to kill it. Such actions would constitute a betrayal. It did not, however, have to help it, and instead of joining this fight as a cruel puppet master to help it swing the awkwardly sized weapon in the most efficient arcs possible, it was content to spectate as its first overhand chop cleaved through the mangy beastman¡¯s spear and deeply into its chest. +10 Life Force That single blow wasn¡¯t deep enough to kill it, and it had to hack at the second thing to bring it down. That much was fine, but it gave the other members of the creature¡¯s hunting pack time to join the fight, and in the time it took the goblin to raise the cursed blade and bring it down again, it had been shot with a stone-tipped arrow and stabbed twice. -4 Life Force -6 Life Force +18 Life Force -7 Life Force You have claimed a lesser monster soul. Still, the goblin was undeterred. It screamed and bled, but even as the blade¡¯s energy flowed through it to heal the wounds left by weapons, as soon as they were removed, it was charging the next one and then the one after that. It was a furious little berserker that certainly didn¡¯t want for ferocity. If it had been twice the size, it might have been unbeatable. Unfortunately, it was a small thing that was little more than a nuisance, and when it got one of its overhead chops stuck in the hip of the largest goat man with twisted horns, the beast succeeded in kicking the goblin, sending it end over end where it lay sprawling. That wasn¡¯t quite enough to kill it, but without the blade''s magic, it couldn¡¯t rise in time to avoid being kicked to death by the other goaty warriors who quickly surrounded it. The Ebon Blade couldn¡¯t have cared less at that point. Once its wielder lost the fight, the creature was nothing but dead weight. Instead, it sat there studying the flea-bitten goat man it was halfway to gutting. The monstrosity was bleeding out, but it might yet live. It had only to grasp the handle and pull the blade free. Moments later, that¡¯s exactly what it did, and when it did so, the Ebon Blade seized its soul almost as completely as it had taken control of the goblin¡¯s. The thing¡¯s spirit was stronger but better in every way. It was not the human vessel it might have preferred, but there was a physical strength that was hard to deny. The beast men¡¯s communications were more complex, too. They weren¡¯t just fuck, eat, kill. They were, ¡°fuck that, roast it and eat it!¡± While not exactly scintillating conversation, it was certainly better than the bursts of goblin expletives, and on the whole, the blade took it as progress. Anything was better than Ren¡¯s simpering about women had been, and it would take the bleating of goats, intelligent or otherwise, over such sentimentality any day. It stood, stretching the body of its new wielder before, the hideous goatman bellowed a sound of triumph as it cried out, ¡°Mine!¡± and raised its black blade skyward. It wasn¡¯t quite as good as a human, but its new wielder was taller and stronger. It will do for now, the blade decided as it regarded the situation and looked around at the rest of the tribe, trying to decide whether it should slaughter them or turn them into the horde it had been wanting for most of its short existence and unleash the havoc that haunted its dreams.
Name:Gar-lok Race: Beastman (goat)
Toughness: 3 +1 Strength: 4 +3 Agility: 4 +2 Speed: 4 +1
Intelligence: 1 Willpower: 1 -1 Morality: Greedy Bloodlust: Medium
Status: Elderly
Martial Skill: Low Armor Proficiency: None
Dodging: Medium Athletics: Medium
Goal: To fuck fertile does and devour his enemies.
Ch. 19 - Instincts Despite the fact that the Ebon Blade had nearly as much control over the beastman as it did of the goblin that had wielded it before him, it did nothing with it at first. Instead, like always it waited to see what it would do. The beast that it was being wielded by was a simple thing, and the blade could read the mind of the beastman named Gar-lok like an open book. It was weaker than a man, but stronger than a goblin, and for now, that was all the blade cared about. Until this moment, it had been nothing but an aging male on the verge of being run out of the tribe by other younger challengers. Now, the tables had turned, and though several of his rivals tried to defeat him over the next hour or so, they all failed. One was killed in the attempt because Gar-lok did not know his own strength. The other two were only maimed for it before they surrendered. The beastman had left his tribe¡¯s current encampment practically an outcast but returned as a chieftain in the making. At sunrise, when the remains of that ragged warband returned Gar-lok challenged his chief, a young bull, to mortal combat, and slew him in two wild slashes of the Ebon Blade. He was no swordsman, but his bestial strength, amplified by the power of his cursed weapon, made it impossible for any warrior with a stone axe to defeat it. That night, he rutted with all the fertile does and celebrated his victory. Still, the blade prevented him from putting the weapon down. It would not be discarded. So, in the end, he made a crude scabbard and wore it on his back. That day, exhausted, the beast dreamed simple dreams, but the Ebon blade rejected what it saw. The slavering beast wanted nothing more than to lord over this small set of foothills. He had only a few years of life left and wanted them to be comfortable and secure. His most ambitious dream was to double the size of his harem, which struck the Ebon Blade as simply pathetic. So, while its new wielder slept, the blade began to exercise a new level of control. It started small. It did not wish for the thing to balk as its previous wielder had. Instead of spending the rest of his days rutting with the few does he had access to, the blade bid him attack the other nearby tribes and bring them under his control. Even a dozen tribes together wouldn¡¯t be enough to cause the bloodshed that the blade wanted, but it could very easily see a strong leader bringing together hundreds of beastman warriors with a few months of work. Such a ragged army would be more than enough to burn anything that looked like civilization all the way to Kalraka and beyond. When the flea-bitten wretch woke at sunset, he was almost excited and began to bray and lecture his warriors in their ugly tongue. This was less of an inspiring speech than a series of commands. You will do this. We will kill. We will subdue the weaker tribes and take their trophies and territories for our own! The blade tuned it out. It didn¡¯t care for herd politics so long as it had a biddable leader, which Gar-lok seemed to be. That night, they prepared for a dawn ambush of the nearest herd, the twisted horn tribe. While they did so, the Ebon Blade casually drained nearby people here and there and contemplated its own problems. It was not currently stranded in a cave or a decaying temple, and though it had lost a human wielder, it was certain it would get one again in time. Truthfully, it didn¡¯t realize that it would be dissatisfied in the hands of a monster until it had happened. It was functional, and the blade much preferred this to the alternative of rusting in the dark. Still, it chaffed at the way a nonhuman hand felt on its grip. That was not its first priority, though. What it needed next was to increase on the path of death that it had started down, which meant that it needed greater monster souls. Unfortunately, it had no idea where to get them. The beastmen didn¡¯t provide them, and neither did goblins. Neither of those was a surprise, given that it would never think to call either of them great in any sense of the word. Will I have to track down 50 different hydras and griffons and whatever else, it wondered, or would something like an orc or a hobgoblin do? Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. It didn¡¯t know, but even if it had a steady source of those souls, it couldn¡¯t fit that many anyway. Right now, it could hold exactly 28 souls, and each time it increased its reserves, that number seemed to go up by two or three. It could not recall an exact pattern. It didn¡¯t even have enough data to make a thesis. Still, it thought that it would need to increase its increase reserves by five or ten levels. That was a lot. It was potentially ten thousand Life Force, which might be more than it had gathered in total so far. It wasn¡¯t even sure it went up that high or what it might need that capacity for, but it didn¡¯t really have a choice in the matter. Perhaps when I really am at the head of a vast hoard of beastmen, I¡¯ll be able to drink in so much death that it will be trivial to fill such pools with oceans of blood, it thought, hopefully. It didn¡¯t know how that would work, but there had to be a way. Aura of Hunger wasn¡¯t fast enough for such things, and Parasitic Link didn¡¯t have a follow-on ability. Unfortunately, that meant that it was probably in the Path of Blood, but it wasn¡¯t going to worry about that for now. Instead, it spent 800 of its nearly 2000 Life Force and boosted its storage further with Increased Reserves 8, making its runes deeper and darken in the process; they were very legible now, it just had no idea what they said. That instantly increased its Life Force capacity from 3000 to 4000 and decreased its current energy available from 1792 to 992. It was also enough to make its mangy wielder twitch restlessly as it tried to understand the sensation, but in the end, all it did was increase its soul storage from 28 to 32, which wasn¡¯t particularly exciting. Fortunately, by then, the sun was threatening to rise, and things were about to get exciting as Gar-lok¡¯s warband closed on the twisted horn encampment. They were a much bigger tribe than Gar-Lok¡¯s Fleet Hoof tribe, and normally, the smaller tribe would have never stood a chance, even with the element of surprise. These weren¡¯t normal times, though. Normal times didn¡¯t involve a berserk war leader at the front of the assault swinging a magic blade. Especially not one that seemed half convinced that he was immortal after the way he¡¯d healed from the death blow the goblin had inflicted less than twenty-four hours ago. The battle that followed the first ragged war cries was vicious and brief. Gar-lok wasn¡¯t even on the winning side of every encounter that he was on. He was a poor fighter, and against younger bucks and larger warriors with greater reach, he was wounded more than once by the flurry of spear attacks. +21 Life Force. -6 Life Force. +24 Life Force. He didn¡¯t let go of the blade, though. That was the important part. Once he started fighting his way through the thick of things to the other chieftain, the Ebon Blade actually started to help him, adding some technique to the otherwise vicious strikes. While it had no interest in allowing a weak wielder to come out on top, it did appreciate a certain level of ferocity, and if nothing else, Gar-lok had that. +18 Life Force. Still, when it came to the actual battle that would decide who was fit to rule, the blade released its wielder once more, leaving it to its fate. The other beastman was younger, stronger, and half a head taller. The blade would not be bothered for it to be its new warlord instead, but it let the skills of the combatants decide. +16 Life Force. +22 Life Force. +12 Life Force. Both of the goatmen were equally clumsy, as it turned out. How much prowess can there really be in a race that dies of old age before twenty? It thought as it watched the two of them exchange ineffectual slashes and jabs, with no real attempt to feint. It would have been depressing if it weren¡¯t so amusing. Still, youth and size were no match for magics that it itself did not understand, as it turned out. Though the two of them butted heads quite literally several times, in the end, the aging goat, who could not stay wounded no matter how hard his opponent struck him, outlasted the young buck. +17 Life Force. You have obtained 1 lesser monster soul. By the time the sun was entirely over the horizon, despite being horribly outnumbered, the Fleet Hoof tribe had won. Then, every survivor was given the choice to bend the knee, be slain, or run for their lives. Most of them surrendered, which, though useful for the Ebon Blade, still disgusted it. I¡¯d never surrender, it told itself, but then, I¡¯m not a herd animal. Ch. 20 - The Edge of Nowhere Over the next few weeks, the battles came every three or four days. They followed a predictable pattern. First would be the bloodletting of war. Increasingly, as the numbers grew this would take on an almost ceremonial form, with one chief and his warband against the opponents. After that, the culling of those that would not serve would happen when they were struck down. This was followed by an orgy of conquered does and fermented milk. It was those latter stages that showed off the true monsterousness of the beastmen. The battles were the least of the ugliness that these frenzied goatmen were capable of. Still, with each fight, the tribe grew. First, the Fleet Hooves were dozens, but by the time a second moon had passed, they were hundreds. By then, other tribes were joining them voluntarily rather than fighting, and Gar-lok was not an old goat with a magic sword; he was chief of chiefs. He had several war bands under his command. That was real power. It was also when they descended the rugged hills to the Kaladian plains and began to devour humans wherever they found them, By this point, the Ebon Blade was already looking for a new wielder, though not from the humans. The goatman it had chosen was growing lazy, and with so many warriors under its command, the mangy beast was eager to get out of combat whenever possible. Only the blade¡¯s urging kept him running at the vanguard with the rest of his younger kin in most fights. You have to fight! It lectured its wielder silently. I receive no Life Force, and you receive no strength when you sit all of it out and let others do the killing. The fact that it fought only reluctantly as its forces grew grated on the Ebon Blade in a way that could not be solved with blood. Still, even with Gar-lok¡¯s support, the beastman hoard swept through the unsuspecting valleys like a cloud of locusts. Every farm they found was stripped bare, and enemies were roasted on the pyres of their homes. +84 Life Force +3 Human Souls None of those early fights could be called battles. They were slaughters but even slaughters gave it Life Force and souls. It was one night around the fire of what had once been a barn, while its wielder was feasting on human flesh that it decided to use one of the human souls to do something besides give it energy. The Ebon Blade was back over 1500, life force. In a few more days, when it topped 2000, it would gain the next level of Increase Reserves. For now, though, what it needed was not energy but information, and for that it finally turned to the other way to use a soul for the first time. It devoured an old farmer it had killed by the name of Ruthers, with a simple demand. The weapon wanted to know where it was and where the nearby towns were, the man gave it every last scrap of information it knew on the subject before he faded into oblivion. He told the weapon not just where the nearby farm holds were, which were only of middling importance. His ghost also told him how far it was to other nearby villages like Olden-va as well as larger towns and cities like Trodden, Tollin¡¯s Cross, and Kalraka. Those were further away, of course; anything of any size was. The man had only the vaguest idea of where Severon was, near the heart of the Three Kingdoms, far to the southwest. It was not a place he¡¯d ever been, and it wasn¡¯t just a few leagues away. It was hundreds of miles from where they stood at least. It turned out that the plains were a desolate place, but even here at the edge of nowhere, there were lives to be taken and carnage to be caused, and over the next week, the blade used its hoard of beastman to carve a blazing swath across the plains. They tore right through Olden-va and its villagers as if it wasn¡¯t there. +191 Life Force +6 Human Souls The Ebon Blade didn¡¯t see the shepherd boy that had led him to the temple die or the girl that its first wielder had fawned over so much. However, it didn¡¯t really seek her out, either, and it doubted either of them survived. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. After that, they rampaged through an abandoned Tollin¡¯s Cross but found no one there to kill. They had obviously been warned and fled before the monsterous horde. The place they¡¯d left behind was still in ruins. They¡¯d only just started to rebuild in the wake of the dragon attacks half a year ago. In one night, half a year of progress was put to the torch, and the braying goatmen turned toward the distant city of Kalraka, which was at least a week away for this filthy, undisciplined lot. The beastmen didn¡¯t seem too concerned by distances, though. Their leader never even tried to explain how far they would go to the rest of his war chiefs. He just pointed in a direction, and they obeyed. Gar-lok, for all of his laziness, was practically a god to them by this point. He was the only one who had participated in every major battle and survived to tell the tale without so much as a scratch. The beasts were killing humans at every turn, but the goat men were hardly immortal, and every fight that wasn¡¯t a complete rout maimed a few of them bad enough that they were killed and eaten by their companions. The blade didn¡¯t care. Every last one of these creatures was entirely expendable. It was sure they¡¯d find that out as soon as they met their first cavalry patrol. Those words proved to be prophetic. The first men they fought that were ready for them fought on light horses, with lance and bow. If they¡¯d stuck to bow, they might have won. The beasts had no counter for that. If they stayed where they were, then they were punctured, and if they ran toward the enemy, the enemy fled from them. It was frustrating for them, and even as the Ebon Blade tried to explain the proper strategies to deal with such a foe to Gar-lok, there was no way that he could, in turn, relay those words to scores of drooling imbeciles. Still, eventually, they got lucky. Eventually, the horsemen decided that the beasts were spread out enough for a charge. That was their downfall because even as most of the beastmen fled before the iron-shod steeds, Gar-lok ran toward them. Specifically, he ran right for their leader. He didn¡¯t want to, but he wasn¡¯t given a choice. The blade was not about to see its small army whittled away to nothing because beastmen hadn¡¯t figured out weapons that were more complicated than throwing spears. Gar-lok¡¯s suicide attack took the horses out from under two men in a single furious swing, even though he was pierced by both lances and born to the ground with them. He didn¡¯t let go of the blade, though, so even as his opponents died, he lived to fight another day. The death of the squad¡¯s captain made the surviving members of the patrol try to battle their way to his corpse. That was their second mistake. It was that sentimentality that the blade had been counting on. If they¡¯d fled, then eight men would have lived, but because they tried to keep a body from being devoured and desecrated, twenty minutes later, only two were fleeing. What a pity, the blade said to itself as it watched them retreat into the distance. The city will be ready for us now. There was nothing it could do to stop men on horses, though. Not until it was once again in the hands of a man on a horse. All it could do was change their route to make the defenders less able to anticipate and prepare for their attack. To that end, the beastman horde avoided roads after that. Both large trade roads and smaller footpaths were off-limits. Instead, they moved toward a sluggish river heading in the same direction that they were, and when they found the first good ford, the entire group crossed it and continued on in the weeds and cattails of its banks like a heard of sheep more than an organized army. The city was on the coast. It knew that much but little more. It had no idea what their defenses or fortifications were. In these wild lands, it could guess that they would be somewhere between pathetic and enough to be a problem. They almost certainly wouldn''t be formidable, and it leaned toward the former rather than the latter because of the insignificant location. Two days from the city, some of the beastmen scouts spotted a human army on the other side of the river heading in exactly the wrong direction, which pleased it greatly. Hundreds of men in mail would have been enough to put a stop to this little adventure, but they were going toward where they thought the beastmen horde would be and not where they were, which made all the difference in the world. When the weapon finally sighted the city from a distance, it was plain to see that their low mud brick walls didn¡¯t have anything close to the number of defenders they should have had. There were watchmen, of course. They were enough to sound the alarm, but even as they did, the blade knew that there wouldn¡¯t be enough defenders to matter. The goatmen were awful in so many ways, but one thing they excelled at was uneven terrain, and they practically ran up and over the walls of the doomed city like the animals they were. Their battle cries were deafening. As far as they were concerned, this was about to become the greatest victory in their short, muddy history. The Ebon Blade was inclined to agree with that assessment, pathetic as it was. Tonight, everyone would feast, and then tomorrow, whatever humans happened to survive would starve. It could live with that. This was, after all, just one more stepping stone toward its far-off revenge. These lives only mattered in that they would fuel its rise to power so that it could find out the truth of its existence, sweep away the descendants of whoever it was that had imprisoned it, and make its wrath known to the world. Ch. 21 - Kalraka Burning That night, the blood that filled the streets was almost enough to sate even the blade¡¯s burning need for vengeance. It saw horrible sights as whole families were slaughtered by the braying beasts that filled the streets and ransacked whatever they could. None of them moved it, though. You have obtained 1 human soul. As the city burned brighter, it could see more, and as it did so, it spent more time watching the attackers than their victims. The beastmen were crass, simple creatures, but amidst the narrow stone streets of the small city, they were dangerous killers. They leaped nimbly from wall to wall. While they were much smaller than the average soldier, the fact that they could run on vertical surfaces as long as they were rough enough made them more effective with their spears and horns than the blade would have thought before it saw them in action. You have obtained 1 human soul. The blade¡¯s wielder didn¡¯t need subtly. It simply hacked its way through whoever happened to be standing in front of it in strokes that were as powerful as they were clumsy. The Ebon Blade didn¡¯t care about skill in this moment. All it cared about was the way that it felt to slice through human flesh once more. It was an entirely different experience, and the blade much preferred it to goats and their muddy life force which it had been drinking for months. It had no sympathy for its victims, especially the ones that didn¡¯t fight back. The only emotion that those defenders inspired was disgust. Not only had they sent their soldier off to try to protect them in the wrong direction, but those who they¡¯d left behind seemed unwilling to do anything more than bar the doors of their homes to protect themselves. You have obtained 1 human soul. The men on the walls came together for a time and tried to fight the goatmen, but they were far too few, and a crossbow wasn¡¯t an effective weapon when your opponent could charge you and gore you with their horns. You have obtained 1 human soul. Any one of the men could have taken down one or two of the goatmen, even if it cost them their life. Most of the women might have, too, for the beastmen were diminutive things. Still, they showed no spine. They fled and begged and died on their knees where they belonged as the attackers devoured and destroyed. You have obtained 1 human soul. You have obtained 1 human soul. To anyone else, it might have been a sad scene, but as the Ebon Blade basked in a tide of life energy that soaked into it with each stab and slash, it didn¡¯t really care where it came from. What was sad wasn¡¯t that the thatched roofs of picturesque stone buildings were burning. It was that even though the people of the city outnumbered the invaders by two or three to one, they refused to fight. Once the beastmen were in the city, it burned all of the lesser monster souls it possessed to make room for the new human souls that were flooding into it. A lesser monster soul might only be worth a dozen life force, but a human soul, especially one who had lived a long and full life, could be worth ten times that. That flare of power was what finally pushed it over 2000, Life Force again, bringing it to 2073/4000. That, combined with the nearly full allotment of nineteen human souls and the dragon soul it still held in reserve, gave it almost limitless options. The blade had planned to level up to Increase Reserves 9, but with so much power available to it in this moment, it delayed and tried to consider what its other options might be instead while it drank as much energy as it could from this place. That was the reason it nudged its wielder to fight those few that could be found who were worth fighting. It wasn¡¯t because of even a trace of pity it sought to spare the children as much as it was because those tiny people were worth so little by comparison. It just wanted Gar-lok to fight the biggest, strongest enemy that he could at each encounter. You have obtained 1 human soul. Mostly, the goatman obeyed, too, but after the first hour, it was running out of targets of any value, and when morning dawned, it became clear that there was nothing left for it in this place. The city was built of stone, so most of it still stood. If it had been a general rather than a weapon in the hands of bloodthirsty savages, it would have pressed on because there was no further advantage here. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The goatmen didn¡¯t see it that way, though. They had killed this place, and now they would feast on its remains, and the Ebon Blade was not inclined to force the issue. There were still a few places of resistance where it might yet get the fights that it craved on the following night, at least. The governor''s manor was still bolted up tight and had a dozen men with crossbows on the second floor, with who knew how many survivors inside. Likewise, the east gate''s keep was still manned. It was larger than the west gate that the army of beastmen had avoided entirely during their unorthodox entrance. The layout hinted that this city was more used to fighting enemies from the other direction, and that made the blade curious. Is it used to fighting men, I wonder, or are there other monsters deep in the forest worth pursuing. Kalraka stood at a relative choke point. To the south stood the sea, and to the north stood foothills that grew and grew until they became a mountain range while it straddled the trade path that wound between them. To the west, those roads continued across the desolate plains it had spent most of its time until now, while to the east, they disappeared into the woods. The Ebon Blade consumed the soul of a guardsman to answer these questions, and its mind was flooded with information about the world around the city. The man shared seaborne trade routes to cities it had never heard of, and better estimates to just how far away Severon was, and the approximate locations of a number of nearby towns in the forest. It also told him about the mountains to the north, and that the real threat were the orcs that dwelled within them and assaulted the city so often that there were bounties on their tusks. It was interesting information, but it barely distracted it from more immediate concerns. The day that followed was an orgy of violence against the wounded and the dead. It was an orgy of flesh, and Gar-lok, along with the rest of his beastmen, stayed away from anything that resembled real fighting while the humans that still lived did their best to barricade themselves inside of anywhere they might be able to defend. Those soldiers will return in a day or two at most, the blade warned its wielder. You should be gone when they arrive. We can look for softer targets in the forest beyond. Its wielder barely noticed its council. Instead, he brushed off the blade''s warnings and spent the afternoon rutting. It could have forced the issue if it was just the casual defiance of its wielder, but it was clear that his undisciplined army hadn¡¯t finished gnawing at the bones of civilization. The blade didn¡¯t care too much either way. It would still get to feast on more opponents come nightfall. That was when the beastmen tired of their rest and recreation and sought out new victims to hunt and kill. Shortly after sunset, they attacked both of the remaining strongholds, along with all the other tiny holdouts where families cowered in fear. Then, at least, the Ebon Blade forced Gar-lok to lead the charge against the Governor¡¯s Manor. It was the most well-defended target, which meant it would have the most soldiers left to kill. For a time, the goat men tried and failed to break down any of the doors. Finally, unwilling to watch them squander their lives any further, it took command and directed them to climb up a spot on the walls between two chimneys where the crossbowmen could not reach. Once they reached the roof and broke through the flimsy tiles, it was all but over. The stout walls and gates of the building had been defended well. Even the lack of windows on the first floor had made it close to unbreachable. Still, it was impossible to defend once the enemy was inside and charging down carpeted hallways that were more concerned with beauty than safety. You have obtained 1 human soul. Women screamed and ran as fast as they could while men fought, but that didn¡¯t save either of them and soon the house was consumed with fire and death. Some small part of the blade hated to see such beauty burn. The paintings and the fine candelabras had done nothing to it, but it was unwilling to intercede as its wielder climbed to the roof in triumph, still covered in blood. You have obtained 1 human soul. You have obtained 1 human soul. That was where it discovered a new wrinkle. The army that the Ebon blade had been warning of had already come back. The defenders were returning, but Gar-lok didn¡¯t care, nor should he. It was far too late for them to do anything. There were still survivors, but with their homes in flames and the majority of its city dead, even if the goat men all fled now, this place would still be nothing but a graveyard. The goatman stood there, braying loudly in challenge to those defenders from where he stood atop the flaming ruins of what had once been the local governor''s elaborate manor. ¡°I have taken your city!¡± he roared. ¡°We retreat now into the forests and hills! When we return with new young, we shall kill you too! None shall stand before my might!¡± Not one of the humans could understand the crude tongue. Still, for a beastman, it was an eloquent speech and an example of what might pass for brilliant tactics for such a simple creature. The Ebon Blade might be growing tired of being wielded by such a simple creature, but it couldn¡¯t help but wonder if its influence was starting to rub off on it. What had been a cowardly old goat was becoming a regular strategos. Despite that, it still would have much rather been in human hands. The crude nature of these things was making it miss the hand of man so much it would have almost taken the shepherd boy over this. So, when the roof suddenly started to collapse beneath its bestial wielder, and it fell into a flaming abyss of its own making, the blade was not entirely disappointed. Ch. 22 - Save Yourself The goatman screamed as it fell in both fear and pain as fire enveloped it. Earlier in the day, fire had been an amusement. It had laughed as other humans and beastmen had burned alive. Now that joy was gone, and even when it crashed through the third floor, to the second, and finally the first in a spray of flaming debris, its torment didn¡¯t end. It couldn¡¯t because the blade it held healed it almost as fast as it died. The blade didn¡¯t feel pain in the same way its wielder did. It had been embedded in the molten heart of a dragon for weeks and endured it without issue. This was nothing by comparison. Still, it suffered differently as it watched its energy plummet to keep its wielder alive as it should have died over and over again. 2396/4000 Life Force 2352/4000 Life Force 2338/4000 Life Force The Ebon Blade Watched its Life Force ebb in real-time as the burning goatman struggled to its feet and staggered toward the door. Part of it wanted to spend as much power as it possibly could to avoid letting such a subpar wielder squander it, but the rest of it didn¡¯t want to be buried alive even more. If it makes it onto the street, then I shall act, it told itself. Gar-lok never got that far. It reached the main door, covered in flames, and struggled with the bar one-handed. Even before it could try to find a better way to lift it, though, the ceiling collapsed on the goatman, burying him alive in burning rubble. 2282/4000 Life Force The blade acted then as the life force drain doubled in its speed. Technically, what it was doing was a mercy at this point. Its wielder would never rise again, but it still clung stubbornly to the blade. That meant that if the Ebon Blade didn¡¯t use its power, its wielder would suffocate and burn for several minutes longer than it needed to. Already, the echoed agony that they shared through their bond was almost painful to the blade, even if it wasn¡¯t nearly as hot as it had been when it was bathed in black dragon blood. 2243/4000 Life Force It didn¡¯t hesitate. It spent 3 of its twenty human souls to briefly peak above 2500 Life Force, and then it activated Repair Soul 3. It could have simply spent 2000 on Improved Siphon, but the blade had already let Gar-lok waste enough of its power and had no wish for it to waste anymore. 78/4000 Life Force 32/4000 Life Force It never got to see the number hit zero again because, at that moment, it was bombarded with images again, just like it had been the last two times. This time, though, whether it was because of the increased energy it had used or the fact that its wielder was burning alive, all of it hurt worse than either of the other times. This time, it felt everything. First, there was its imprisonment, but that was a brief glimpse. Now that it had been there, it knew everything about that temple and it didn¡¯t care how grand it looked before it had been abandoned. After that, there was a battle. No, a series of battles. They were blood baths, and the dark armor of the man that wielded it against so many was bathed in blood. That fight had a tinge of madness to it, but the ones that followed were more sedate. There were armies then, and he was leading them. Then there was the fight with the dark scaled dragon it remembered so well. That had more detail this time, which was enough to make it think that it wasn¡¯t Baraga. The armor was different, but the face seemed different. His features were finer than it remembered, and he was clean-shaven. Was Baraga always clean-shaven? It wondered. Before it could decide if its wielder had simply shaved between the last fight and this one, though, its memories returned to that terrible furnace and its incessant pounding. Is this the right order? It wondered as it judged the dark-eyed mages, imbuing their terrible magics into the black metal of the blade. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. This image lingered longer than before. It could feel itself being forged. It could feel the dark runes being carved along the length of its blade, one sharp strike at a time. As each inscrutable glyph was completed, it began to glow, joining the others as flaming brands on its soul. Do I have a soul? It wondered. Can swords have souls? It didn¡¯t matter. As soon as it lost focus on the cruel eyes of the lead magus, the whole image fell apart. Suddenly, it was replaced by scenes of betrayal. What should have been a wedding feast for its wielder quickly became a trap. One minute, the unarmed Baraga stood before a mass of nobles raising a toast with a bandaged hand while they cheered him with raised glasses instead of swords. The next, the powerful warrior was drugged into submission and held bound hand and foot. This enraged the blade. It should care nothing for who wielded it, but these terrible revelations, along with the fact that they were incomprehensibly out of order, made it impossible to figure anything out completely. Still, it knew enough. It had seen the princess, shocked as she was standing next to her smiling father in the moment where its master had realized it was a trap. It knew which kingdom it must aim toward, but now it knew that all the nobles of that place should be made to suffer and that its war should be absolute. Every bloodline must be erased, it told itself. Before it could try to learn their faces or names, though, the second dragon fight arrived. This one showed its wielder at his peak. He still wore armor, and he was bleeding in several places as he hid behind a boulder while the red dragon bathed the world in fire. That wasn¡¯t enough to so much as singe his beard, though, as he charged back toward the source of the flames, even as they began to ebb. The dragon reacted immediately, recoiling as soon as its prey became visible, but by that point, Baraga had already grasped its lower fang and used it as a handhold. Even as his hand started to smolder in his metal gauntlet, he didn¡¯t let go. Instead, he used the momentum of the move to time his strike, and when the giant metal skin beast pivoted, he used the momentum of the serpentine movement to jam three feet of steel through the dragon¡¯s giant eye into the lemon-sized brain beyond it. It spasmed then, flinging him aside, but not before the blade turned the thing''s brain into stew meat. Its wielder was already on his feet before thing had even finished dying. In that moment, its pommel glowed brightly as it siphoned the soul of the gargantuan beast into the soul gem, making the previously dull jewel shine bright. That was a moment of triumph and one that it was profoundly interested in. After that, though, there were others that it cared less about. It had no interest in who its wielder attempted to woo or how the king had promised his daughter Drezellia to ¡°Any hero that slays the terrible beast and brings me its burning soul as proof shall be given my daughter¡¯s hand and made defender of the north!¡± Past that, there was a barrage of images. Inns, banners, friends, and allies of its now dead master, and other less comprehensible things. One image that it couldn¡¯t shake in all of this, though, was the way that Baraga looked at the woman. She was no doubt beautiful, but the way he gazed at her made it look like she¡¯d ripped his heart from his body. Perhaps she had, it noted because whatever his master had been doing before he became a dragon slayer hadn¡¯t seemed half so glamorous or dangerous. It was hard to piece together all the broken shards, but if it had to guess, it would have said that he was nothing but another mercenary before love had driven him to new heights. But why would someone be content to be just a rank-and-file mercenary when they had the Ebon Blade on their hip? It wondered as the vision faded away. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t have long to wonder because as soon as it returned to the real world and pierced through the veil of that terrible fugue state, it felt empty. Somehow, despite only being a finely crafted lump of metal, it ached everywhere. It took only a moment to figure out that its former wielder was dead and that its Life Force was at zero. It spent the first human soul without even thinking, gaining 104 Life Force. That would buy it the best part of a week, as it lost a point every hour or two. Once that was done, it might allow itself to drift into darkness, but for now, that was an unacceptable outcome. Right now, more than anything, it needed to process and understand what it had seen, and it couldn¡¯t risk losing those clear recollections as it slept in the dark. The Ebon Blade, it pored over every last thought, trying to put the ever-sharpening memories together in a clear sequence of events. It was sure that decades at least had passed since all this, but it paid special attention to the mages it had seen at first. Even if it had been centuries since it had been forged, which might very well have been the case, it strongly suspected that they would still be alive. The same magics that powered its unnatural life powered theirs, too. It was certain of that, which meant that even after it wrecked Severon and anyone in the three Kingdoms who had ever wronged it or its wielder, it could likely seek them out next, both for vengeance and for answers. Ch. 23 - A New Owner The Ebon Blade lay there beneath the smoldering rubble long after the embers cooled. It lay there for days and burned another soul when its Life Points approached zero just so it could wait there longer as it strained to find some evidence that there was hope it would be found. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force At first, the answer was that there was none. Other than ashes, burned timbers, and slow tick of indicators, the only evidence of life was the slowly decaying body of its charred former wielder. Sometimes, it could hear horses or wagons go past on the cobblestones, but it could not see them, which was frustrating. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force -1 Life Force Normally, the blade could see all directions at once, up to several dozen feet, before shapes began to blur and colors started to fade. Even when it was sheathed, it could see several feet quite clearly. Still, for reasons it did not understand, its view was entirely blocked by the stone that buried it. It might have given up then and preserved its remaining souls if the digging hadn¡¯t started then. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force Worse, even though it could hear people nearby, it couldn¡¯t reach out to them and began to drain them with its aura of hunger. That was deeply frustrating since it should have been the perfect solution to its current dilemma. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force More than a week after it had been buried alive, the survivors of Kalraka started to rebuild or at least bury their dead. It didn¡¯t know which was the case, and it didn¡¯t care. It had long tired of reliving all the little scenes in the hopes of making them fit. It got more information each time it used that terrible power, and each time it did so, it felt more alive and whole.
The Ebon Blade Life Force: 67/4000 Siphon: 12-22 Siphon: 10-20 Path: Death, Level 3 Reserves: 8 - Your gemstone is large and clear. Siphon: 6 - Your blade is sharp but tarnished. Connection: 3 - Moderate - Your hilt is tight but tarnished. Control: 3 - Moderate - Your runes are clear. Senses: 2 - Dim - Your hilt is tarnished. Soul: 3 - Cracked - You are starting to understand your past. Powers: Aura of Hunger: Drain Life Force from nearby victims. Drain Soul: Harvest the souls of your victims for later use. Convert Souls: Devour a soul for its constituent essence. Ineffective Immunity: Natural immunities no longer protect your enemies. Deathly Touch: All strikes deal +2 cold damage.
The blade would just have to gather the power to do it again and figure out what other secrets were being held back from it. 5000 Life Force to repair my soul again, it sighed. That¡¯s going to take a long time to gather. Indeed, even if it drained a couple dozen from every human and another hundred or so from their souls, 5,000 Life Force represented hundreds of deaths. That was fine, though. It always craved battle, and at this point, it wanted to do literally anything else, even if that something else was to sleep away the years. But if I do that, I will lose the progress I¡¯ve gained, its mind whispered. That was the dichotomy that held it back and made it listen anxiously to the sounds of digging as the sounds of men got closer and closer. For days, it was there in limbo, listening to the sounds of scratching shovels, twisting ropes, and shouted orders. Then, one day, when it was close to giving in and fading to slumber, one of the largest stones on top of it rolled free, and a slender crack of daylight reached down through the rubble to it. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Suddenly, it could see not just the single beam of sunlight, which penetrated through several feet of rubble down to where it lay, and that was enough for it to escape its tomb, at least in part. Its physical form might still be trapped, and the amount of vision that it could extend to the outside world was still hopelessly blurry, but it could see the outside world, and for now, that was enough. The people working nearest to it were only blurs, and beyond them, the ruined buildings that had once lined this street were nothing but indistinct shapes of black and gray that bled together. Still, that was enough to experience a measure of freedom, and more than that, it was enough to latch on to those who were closest to it and begin to leach their Life Force. The distance of its Aura of Hunger was diminished, and it could only affect those that were closest to it, but that was still enough to latch onto three targets and begin to drain them. Minute by minute and hour by hour, it drained those who walked by as well as those who labored to fill baskets with rubble before carrying it away in wagons. It made sure not to kill any of the humans, but only because it didn¡¯t want to stop work. If it found a rat, raven, or other vermin, though, it drained it dry for the animal soul. All of this was a trickle of Life Force compared to what it had wielded before in the heat of battle. Still, it was enough not just to stop it from fading out into nothingness but to begin to rebuild its strength as well. Paradoxically, this had the added effect of slowing the rate at which it was unearthed. Workers that dug within its reach moved slower than their comrades elsewhere because of drain-induced lethargy, but it didn¡¯t care. Now that it was in no danger of succumbing to oblivion, it didn¡¯t care. It didn¡¯t even stop when they started using orphans to help speed things up. This was fortunate not just because the children gave it more targets to sate its hunger but also because it gave the blade more people to listen to. One or two workers by themselves rarely did more than labor or grumble about the attack, but when there were a handful, they gossiped, and that let the blade know more than anything about the aftermath of its assault on Kalraka. ¡°I hear they¡¯s seen another army on the move,¡± one of the boys said, nearly a month after the building had collapsed. ¡°More beasts are already headed this way!¡± ¡°Nuh-uh,¡± another boy who was both shorter and younger than him. ¡°The Fieldmarshal said they had a thousand men with him and that they wouldn¡¯t let no one, not even the orcs, take advantage of the sit-siation!¡± The two argued about it for some time, and the Ebon Blade even stopped draining them to make sure they didn¡¯t become listless and apathetic, but in the end, it found nothing definitive. The idea that there was a large army in the ruined city was exactly the opposite of surprising. It entirely discounted the idea that a second horde of beastman was moving on this location since it had been the prime mover behind the first one. Its first advance had sucked up every tribe along the way into its hoard, and any stragglers that might be left alive would present no challenge to alert defenders. That they feared the possibility enough to worry was entirely believable. Aftershocks often followed terrible tragedies, and a second wave of the same monsters that killed their parents must have seemed not just possible but probable. Still, out of everything the children mentioned within its slowly expanding zone of sight and hearing, the orcs were what interested it the most. Not only were they larger and stronger than the beastmen, but they were more human-like, too, which should make them slightly better at wielding it. And if they¡¯re common enough to be a problem, then they might represent a vast reservoir of new warriors for me to turn to my advantage, the blade thoughts, as it lay there. Fortunately, no matter how many days it slowed the workers that sifted through the rubble, eventually, they succeeded in hauling it all away. When it was finally found, it wasn¡¯t one of the children that did so, but by one of the young men working alongside of them to lift the heavier stones. The young man waited only long enough for the nearest other workers to be distracted before he picked up the blade immediately. Wow, a ruby that big, it has to be magic, the boy thought to himself as he held the blade for the first time. Ivarr, the blade thought, reading the surface of the boy¡¯s mind, even as he scanned the rest of him. His name is Ivarr. It was impressed that even without it whispering anything to him, the boy seemed to know what it was that he had.
Name: Ivarr Garson Occupation: Cooper¡¯s Apprentice
Toughness: 5 +1 Strength: 6 +3 Agility: 5 +2 Speed: 5 +1
Intelligence: 5 Willpower: 5 -1 Morality: Good Bloodlust: Low
Status: Normal
Martial Skill: Medium Armor Proficiency: Low
Dodging: Low Athletics: Low
Goal: To be a hero and avenge his family¡¯s death.
He instantly drew the battered old long sword he¡¯d had in his scabbard, tossed it aside, and slid the Ebon Blade there in its place. Then he took a rag and tied it around the pommel to hide the faintly glowing ruby there. That not only cleared up the blade''s vision nearly completely, but it also told the blade that the boy was clever. He¡¯d just succeeded in not only gaining himself a magical weapon but also in making it look like he had nothing but a beat-up old blade, just as he¡¯d had before. It was smart, and more than that, it was quick thinking. He may yet make for a good wielder, the blade thought. As much as it liked the idea of leading an army of orcs against the Three Kingdoms, it would be happy to be held for a time by a young man who was this decisive. He might not be as strong as he¡¯d like, but Gar-lok had been loaded with strength and it hadn¡¯t done the blade much good. So, it would see where cleverness could take it instead. Ch. 24 - Big Dreams The Ebon Blade said nothing to the young man that first day. It didn¡¯t even attempt to sway him except for the one time he seemed to ready to show a friend what he¡¯d found when they ate together in the ruins of what had once been an inn during dinner when the other boy asked if he¡¯d done anything interesting that day. Ivarr paused only a moment before he answered, ¡°Nah. Same old stones, different pile. You?¡± Even that pause in the conversation had only taken the barest surge of secrecy to accomplish. Its wielder¡¯s friend never even looked up. ¡°I think that when they gave us blades, we¡¯d be doing at least a little fighting,¡± Sammel complained, ¡°They might as well have issued us shovels instead.¡± ¡°I wish they did,¡± its wielder laughed. ¡°If there were enough shovels to go around, we¡¯d be done cleaning this place up by now. Then we could go out and find some monsters to kill.¡± Though Gar-lok¡¯s assault on Kalraka was a failure, it had been a bloody one, and as the blade listened and siphoned Life Force from its wielder¡¯s friend, along with any other boys that joined them at the fire, it learned much. Mostly, it learned that they were afraid and that hundreds of beastmen had fled into the mountains to the north of the city. Beast men, apparently, were not typically found this far to the east. The near mountains were usually goblin territory, with orcs lurking further out. Now, in the aftermath all of that had been upset, and they worried that some new threat would materialize. The blade doubted it, even though its wielder hoped for it. Apparently, when the army was done securing the city, burying the dead, and doing some basic reconstruction, they planned to march north and cleanse any burrows they found, no matter what monsters dwelled in them. That was what the group of them talked about the longest before going to bed. They talked about how they would be heroes and seek justice for the wrongs that had been dealt to their people and their families. The blade probably should have felt bad about that since it was the architect of this slaughter, but it didn¡¯t. It only wished that it had been at the head of a host that was more numerous and effective. If one of the stray sparks from the bonfire it had created wanted to pick it up and go on to light new blazes? Well, then, that was ideal. That was the part where the blade¡¯s interests aligned with its wielder¡¯s completely. It wanted to siphon that sweet energy to fuel future growth, and its wielder just wanted revenge. That was an understandable and even laudable motivation that the blade could get behind. Its last human wielder had wanted revenge, too, but there was no one left alive to take it on. Ivarr would have better luck. The blade wanted revenge too, but its enemies were too far away in both distance and time, so for now, Ivarr¡¯s revenge would have to suffice for both of them. As understandable as it was, though, it really only discovered all of the details once it delved into the boy¡¯s dreams while he slept. There, it learned that Ivarr had been one of the few people in this city to rise to defend more than himself. He¡¯d started with nothing but a pitchfork, but in time, he¡¯d found a sword and managed to kill three of the goat men. Unfortunately, that hadn¡¯t been enough to save his mother or his younger brother. For that, even though he was eighteen and old enough to know better, he wept bitterly when he¡¯d come home to find their corpses. In the morning, before anyone else was awake, Ivarr unwrapped its hilt and examined the blade itself. ¡°A hexed blade,¡± he whispered in a tone of muted awe as he studied the faintly glowing ruby in the hilt and ran his fingers along the runes carved into the blade. ¡°I wonder what it does?¡± The question was largely rhetorical. Before all this, the boy had been an apprentice to a cooper and spent his days shaving staves and helping his master put iron rings into the fire. He couldn¡¯t read, but it was evident he¡¯d heard stories of magical blades before, and even as he carefully wrapped the hilt with a rag again, his thoughts were loud and clear. Something like this would let him be the hero he¡¯d always dreamed of. The blade spent the day encouraging that. Whenever its wielder was talking to someone about revenge or heroism, it would send a thrill of excitement through him, and whenever he worked diligently to dig through the rubble, it would permeate him with feelings of boredom and listlessness. While it did that, though, it wondered at its reaction toward Ivarr almost as much. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Was it so taken with the lad because it was tired of being wielded by a monstrous hand, or was there more to it? Ivarr wasn¡¯t so different from Ren, and it had loathed being wielded by the Shepard boy. So, what was the difference between the two? Had the weapons mind changed so much as its soul came together, piece by piece? No, ultimately, it decided that it was the details that separated the two boys. Ren had been content to remain a shepherd forever until he¡¯d found the Ebon Blade. He would never have found the will to fight without its magic. Ivarr, on the other hand, would fight alone if he had to. He¡¯d found his own strength before he¡¯d ever used the weapons, and as it turned out, that made all the difference. It wanted to make a worthwhile master stronger, but it did not want to make a weakling strong any more than it wanted to be wielded in battle by a goblin a second time. No matter how easy it was to control their little minds, the vileness of the experience had robbed those moments of the joy they should have had. The blade¡¯s little nudges didn¡¯t take effect overnight, but then, it didn¡¯t intend for them to. It was happy to spend each day leaching slowly off of the men that Ivarr ate near, or worked beside as it steadily refilled its pool of Life Force, and it was far closer to the larger kingdoms to the east than it had ever been before, and currently it was in do danger of being buried and forgotten about. As it slowly increased, its Life Force from just over one hundred when it was found beneath the rubble to nearly five hundred after a week of this routine as it sipped at dozens of people¡¯s souls with its Aura of Hunger without leaving behind any tell-tale bodies in its wake. It was also during that week that it saw, and more importantly tasted its first dwarf. It hadn¡¯t even noticed that the short man wasn¡¯t human until it had tried and failed to drain Life For from him the first time. That was when the blade saw a new message for the first time. Aura of Hunger Resisted. That had annoyed it, and even after it realized that it was a dwarf it tried again and again, until after the third try it succeeded. It noticed that the Life Force felt different than the stuff it had drained from the other men at the bar that night, which was interesting to it. If I was to kill it would I get a human soul, or a greater monster soul I wonder? The blade asked itself quietly enough that its wielder would not hear it. Though it longed for the battlefield, as long as chaos churned around it and its wielder kept it hidden, it was content to see what kind of choices this wielder would make. The dwarf proved to be only one interesting distraction among many as it lingered here in civilization, and in the end, it was not disappointed. Only ten days later, after Ivarr had found the blade, he was making plans to go find adventure rather than wait for it to come to him. He convinced several of his friends to go with him. They were going to make a grand adventure of it. Up until now, all of them had talked a big game, but the blade knew that most of them didn¡¯t have what it took to step outside the walls with only their swords for protection. Once the idea of actually leaving the safety of the walls behind and venturing out into the dark was upon them, each of them chickened out in their own way. Hallen said, ¡°I would, but I¡¯ve got me mum to think about.¡± Brik told him, ¡°I mean, even if we do come back with a load of beastman horns for the bounty, it''s not much more than just doing this job after you count the cost of supplies, now is it?¡± Both of those were reasonable answers meant to cloak cowardice, but Ivarr let both of them off the hook. It was only Sammel¡¯s answer the boy really took issue with. He¡¯d talked a big game right up until the last minute, then rather than meet Ivarr after work, the boy just vanished. Ivarr had to track him down, and when he finally did, hours after they were supposed to depart, the young man who had talked so tough for so long practically begged him not to make him come. ¡°I¡¯m not scared of fighting them, you understand, but how are we to sleep or eat?¡± Sammel continued. ¡°Those little green savages¡­ They could attack us at any time. We might wake up dead or worse!¡± For a moment, the blade thought his wielder might strike the coward down. He would have deserved it, and the blade could have pushed him to do it without doubt, but he was still more interested in seeing what sort of man his wielder was and saw no need to turn him into a puppet yet. So, it was surprised when he turned around and headed out by himself. ¡°I don¡¯t need you,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°I don¡¯t need anyone. Not as long as I have this,¡± he said, patting the sword. Despite his brave words, Ivarr halted at the west gate for several minutes while he tried to convince himself that it might be better to set off tomorrow. It¡¯s already late in the day, he told himself. It would be better to go when I have more daylight. Besides, it might rain later. The blade could hear all of those excuses rolling around his head, but it didn¡¯t put its finger on the scales. If the lad chickened out, then it would find a way to get him killed and find someone braver to wield him, but if he went off into the unknown with no one, well¡­ The Ebon Blade was very pleased when Ivarr pulled his cloak a little tighter to him and strode out of the gate with nothing but a few days of food, a bedroll, and a magical blade of unknown provenance. Somehow, that moment felt familiar to it, and it wondered if it had felt this way at the start of Baraga¡¯s adventures, or if it had even been there at all. Ch. 25 - Wild Places That first night was a trying one for the blade¡¯s wielder. He managed to light a fire despite the damp wood. Despite that, he was not attacked, immediately, which the blade considered to be a lucky break for the inexperienced young man. Still, Ivarr didn¡¯t get much sleep, and the lights of the city, only a few miles away, called to him. The Ebon Blade kept a lookout the entire night, but it saw nothing that needed Ivarr awake, even during his brief few hours of sleep. The following day was more tenuous, though, and it very quickly became apparent that as much as the boy wanted vengeance, he didn¡¯t have much to achieve it besides boldness and an untested blade. He walked right past one set of beastmen tracks that were only a few days old, confusing them with mule deer, and he almost completely missed the first goblin lair he came across because the crevice was too narrow for a human to fit through. The blade tried to decide which one it should direct its wielder¡¯s attention to when a distant rumble made the decision for him. The sound originated well past the Ebon Blades''s sight, but it could see a single blurred figure standing on top of a nearby ridge, visible only because it was moving. Ivarr barely hesitated and instead drew his weapon and ran up the slope to charge it. The thing, in turn, lifted a club high and charged Ivarr. It was a tectonic clash, and the Ebon Blade thought it was a fitting first battle. After all, a beastman wasn¡¯t so challenging for a man wielding a magic blade. Only, it wasn¡¯t a beastman, not in the way that it had thought. It was part man and utterly beastly, but as they got closer the weapon could see that it was bigger than any of the goatmen that the Ebon Blade had encountered before. This was a minotaur, which was a beast that was significantly more dangerous than any of the goatmen that had been part of Gar-lok¡¯s tribe. They were eight-foot-tall, solitary hunters and insanely strong. The Ebon Blade felt no guilt. It hadn¡¯t urged the boy to charge the thing, but it had no desire to lose such a promising young wielder. Originally, it had planned to let Ivarr fight the beastman with no intervention on its part, just to see how the boy did. It changed its mind as soon as it realized what it was the moment it saw what he was up against, though. Rather than test him and watch his skull get crushed, the blade gripped the soul of its wielder as tightly as it could and took full control. It was the only way to avoid the devastating side swing that was about to come from an opponent that was twice the weight and had an advantage in both reach as well as the high ground. The Ebon Blade parried lightly as it dove through the creature''s legs, using Ivarr¡¯s body as if it belonged to it. The motion wasn¡¯t to block anything so much as misdirect. It had intended to follow that up by slicing away one of the thing¡¯s tendons and crippling it, but it moved too quickly, and it had to move away quickly lest Ivarr get his rib cage caved in by a stomp from one of its massive hooves. Even as he bounded clear, though, the landscape had changed noticeably. Now, the giant cowman wasn¡¯t on the uphill slope. He wasn¡¯t even charging. He was standing there swinging that club like a force of nature, but there was no subtlety to it. The blade felt confusion stirring in the mind of its wielder. Ivarr wanted to fight, but he didn¡¯t feel in control of what he was doing, and he wasn¡¯t sure what to make of it. The Ebon blade did everything it could to suppress those thoughts as it focused on the fight. Neither of them could afford a distraction in this moment. Its healing powers were immense, and right now it had substantial reserves, but against an opponent like this, that wouldn¡¯t be enough. One incorrectly judged block would send the blade flying out of Ivarr¡¯s hands, and if the beast actually connected, and managed to crush a knee or a shoulder, well, an injury like that could take half a minute to fix, and in the time it took the blade to do that, its wielder would take half a dozen more similar blows. That was why every move had to be defensive and clean. The blade moved forward just enough to make the monster think it was going to charge, but even as it swung the club, it redirected and brought its slice down, then up again in a long J-stroke that opened up a bleed gash across the right side of its abs. The creature roared in pain, even though the Ebon Blade didn¡¯t have time to slice too deeply. It had to pull away before the creature¡¯s weapon whipped back around like a meteor, and the blade had to move its wielder in the same direction just to avoid the strike. How am I doing this? Ivarr wondered. The blade ignored him; it didn¡¯t even let the numbers or the pleasant surge of Life Force flowing through it distract it. This was as close to a worst-case fight as it could be in at this moment, and it would have rather faced a hundred goblins. +21 Life Force. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The next few minutes were tense as the minotaur went in for the kill, time and again while the blade fought more defensively. Conscious of the differences in reach and strength, the blade used the terrain to its advantage each time. It never let the thing take the high ground, nor did it even try to strike unless some rock or outcropping gave its wielder better footing than his opponent. Most of the strikes it lashed out with were never intended to connect, and those that did were glancing blows at best that only made the creature angrier. +1 Life Force. +17 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +14 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. That each of them drained its life force was nice as the fight went on for minute after minute was the important part. A scratch wasn¡¯t as satisfying as slicing through muscle and seniew, but it was effective. Each one added to the slow drip of sustenance that its Aura of Hunger. What mattered most, though, was keeping its wielder whole and intact. Any serious wound would be all it would take to end this fight for young Ivarr, but the blade wasn¡¯t about to let that happen. For his part, the boy seemed to understand that he was not the one who was moving with perfect timing and grace, but he did nothing to fight the blade, which was good. A single moment of hesitation was all it would take to remove his head from his shoulders. Still, even as the fight crept over the ten-minute mark, it wasn¡¯t the draining, or even the exhaustion, that brought the minotaur down. It was his own strength. He slammed his thigh-thick club into the ground one too many times, and it cracked loudly in two. The thing barely seemed to register the damage to its own weapon and lashed out again anyway with the jagged stump of wood, but for the Ebon blade, reducing the thing''s reach by nearly two feet made all the difference in the world. Suddenly, it didn¡¯t have to leap aside after every shallow blow, and it proceeded to carve the beast up like a fine roast. +16 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +11 Life Force. Five strokes later, the thing was disemboweled, and after another five, it was dead on the ground from frostbite and life drain as much as blood loss. Ivarr wasn¡¯t in good shape himself either, of course. Despite being young and healthy, he¡¯d just participated in a twenty-minute-long duel with a vastly superior opponent, and even with magical strength flowing through him, he was all but spent. You have received a greater monster soul! He sat down on the closest large stone and watched the minotaur¡¯s corpse steam in the cold mountain air. It was several minutes before its wielder caught his breath and dared to ask the sword a question. The blade spent that time reflecting on the new soul and how it was that much closer to its next upgrade, but still, it had been expecting it. It was hard for its wielder to keep a secret when it could hear him rehearsing it and second-guessing himself in his mind. ¡°I¡­ did you help me win that fight?¡± the young man asked. I hadn¡¯t planned to, but it proved to be necessary, the blade confessed. Still, you acquitted yourself well. If you had panicked and resisted me, you would certainly have died. ¡°I¡ª You can talk?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°That¡¯s amazing. Do you have a name?¡± I do, the blade answered, But I would prefer to focus on you, not me, Ivarr. Why did you charge such a large opponent? You were hopelessly outmatched. What would you have done if I had not come to your aid? ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was that big, not from far away,¡± he sighed. ¡°I¡­ Honestly, I didn¡¯t know that beastmen grew to be that big.¡± There are worse things than beastmen out here, the blade answered. As it spoke, images of different sorts of monsters flashed through its mind, bombarding its wielder. For a moment, Ivarr¡¯s mind was filled with vivid images of monsters that the blade had battled. Some it remembered fighting, but others were torn from the depths of its mind, and it could not recall ever actually facing them. There were ogres, griffons, hydras, trolls, greater slimes, dire beasts, and other horrific megafauna. The dragons flickered there for a moment too, but the blade suppressed them. It didn¡¯t want to have that conversation with its young wielder. Neither of them were ready for that. There was also the fact that it didn¡¯t wish to scare the lad into returning to the safety of Kalraka¡¯s walls or anything. Still, it wasn¡¯t about to sugarcoat any of what they might find. Especially since it planned to hunt more of these monsters down next. Well, maybe not next, it corrected itself. First, it would find challenges that were more appropriate to the young warrior. It was only when he was ready that they could truly move as one and take down something as large and powerful as an ogre or a troll. Ivarr seemed to take all of this in stride. Instead of arguing and looking for an excuse not to fight something so terrifying, he stayed quiet as he knelt beside the minotaur and hacked off its horns with the blade. Then he said, ¡°I¡¯d planned to come up here to hunt goblins for their ears and beast men for their horns while I learn to fight, but this, well, I guess it works too. How much do you suppose they¡¯ll pay me for killing something like a griffon?¡± For the first time that it could remember, the blade was tempted to laugh then. The invincibility of youth, it said, both to itself and its wielder. Maybe we will stick to something smaller than griffons for now, but perhaps in time, you can bring something truly wondrous back down the mountain with you. Ch. 26 - The First Week After that interaction, staying entirely silent was no longer an option. Once the young man knew that he wasn¡¯t completely alone in the wilderness, he developed an incessant need to chat with someone who hadn¡¯t existed that first day or even during his time laboring away in Kalraka. Though this wasn¡¯t much more annoying than Ivarr¡¯s thoughts had been, and the Ebon Blade took an aloof approach. Instead of getting caught up in a debate, it gave curt answers sparingly, and its wielder seemed to respect that, for the most part, in the days that followed. The only time the blade became vocal was during their weapons drills. Ivarr was clever and hard-working, but for all of his other strengths, he was not a good swordsman. It found that out the hard way the first evening when they found a tribe of stray beastmen. After the blade helped him with his tracking ability, they spent two days following the tracks of the small splinter clan of less than a dozen, which would be a good first test for him. As it turned out, when they finally found them on an upland boulder field, more than half of that number were does. That should have made the battle incredibly easy for its wielder. As it was, though, Ivarr was wounded twice in blows that never should have struck him. +149 Life Force +8 lesser monster souls He fought with wild strikes that had no technique to them and committed to every attack he launched. In that way, he was no better than the Ebon Blade¡¯s last wielder, Gar-lok, and the weapon cringed at the thought. The blade had spent hours trying to decide whether its current wielder really was less skilled than Ren had been or if it was simply angry at him for wasting Life Force the way he had. Not even lesser monster souls or the bountiful Life Force that it drank, bringing it to 684/4000, was enough to blot out the memory of the sloppy technique it had endured. In the end, it didn¡¯t really matter. What did was that when Ivarr said, ¡°I really showed them!¡± while he was cutting off the horns of the dead beast men to bring back for the bounty, he¡¯d listened to the Ebon blade¡¯s chastisement with a little humility. You really didn¡¯t, it informed him. Without me, you¡¯d be bleeding out on the stones, and by nightfall they¡¯d be roasting you over a fire. ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± its wielder admitted, ¡°But in fairness, I had no idea you could heal me.¡± That makes it worse, not better, the blade answered before lecturing Ivarr on everything he¡¯d done wrong during the fight, from telegraphing his blows too often to not watching his footwork or his flanks. The blade quickly put him to work on improving that. That night, before Ivarr ate, it walked the boy through a series of exercises that it only barely remembered. The memory was so faint that it didn¡¯t even know where it knew them from, but it was certain that it must have been from Baraga. There was nothing complex to the exercises. They were a series of basic attacks in increasing power, interrupted by some sort of step or defensive move. Overhead slash, block and riposte, side step, side slash, ninety-degree pivot, reverse slash, and so on. When the blade demonstrated it to its wielder, it looked almost like a dance, with clean motions and flourishes that showed an economy of motion that even it did not truly possess in the heat of battle. Its wielder, though, displayed just the opposite, and it was days before he started to show any skill. That frustrated the sword. Combat is not a separate skill from what you already know, it explained to him. It is an extension of all the skills you already have. ¡°Killing feels pretty different from everything else I do to me,¡± Ivarr answered defensively. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It''s that morality that holds you back, the blade lectured him. The right time to decide whether or not someone is going to die is well before weapons are unsheathed. Once that happens, the death of one side or the other is the only outcome. Its wielder bristled at being talked down to after every encounter and training session, but the blade couldn¡¯t help it. During the rest of the day, it was nearly silent, but in those moments, it needed the young man to understand just how much he had to improve. Part of it knew its purpose wasn¡¯t to help its wielder get better. Someone was either good enough to wield it, or they weren¡¯t. In this case, though, it could practically taste the other greater monster souls it needed to advance along the path of death, and it desperately wanted that. The blade could not hope to win against minotaurs and griffons while being wielded by a goblin or the sword arm of an unwilling man. That meant that it needed someone brave and reckless like Ivarr. It did need to those souls, too. Need wasn¡¯t too strong of a word. If it ever wanted to find the power that would allow it to absorb the Life Force of all the carnage that was taking place around it the next time, it led a horde or an army to ravage a city. That made a little bit of instruction a necessary evil. That first week in the mountains was the hardest. Not because Ivarr ever came close to dying again but because his lack of skill annoyed the blade almost as much as the questions he would ask it. ¡°Where do you come from? What other powers do you have? Where did the governor find you?¡± Variations of those were the most common questions, but without fail, they almost always led to the fourth question, ¡°Why didn¡¯t anyone use you to save Kalraka when the beasts came?¡± Because I entered the city at the head of that ragged army and razed it myself! Was the answer it wanted to shout, but it could not do that lest it find itself buried somewhere on a scree-covered slope and left to rust. More strangely, it found itself unwilling to lie to its wielder anymore. This was another change caused by its recent soul repair. It would have lied to Kell without a care. I was willing to betray my first wielder, Ren, though, it remembered with a pang of guilt. It was like each time it repaired it own soul, its code of honor became a little stricter. Now, though, the idea of lying felt almost as bad to it as the idea of betraying the man wielding it. It gave this a great deal of thought but had no answers as to why such behavior was now anathema to it. Instead, it gave dismissive answers like, As you are in the midst of discovering, there is a limit to what magic can do when it is in the hands of someone without the skills to wield it. It was a true statement but not a definitive one, which is why the topic came up again and again. Still, Ivarr wasn¡¯t hopeless. He was just unpracticed. He was brave and clever, which were things that could not be taught, and in the battles that followed, he did better each time. The second group of beastman Ivarr encountered only landed a single blow on him, and that was from a bow. Although he was squeamish about pulling the arrow out, he didn¡¯t let himself get surrounded that time, which was real improvement. +121 Life Force +6 lesser monster souls Even the night when he woke up in the middle of the night at the blade¡¯s warning to fight a skulking warband of goblins bent on ambushing him when he was stripped to the waist and half asleep, he acquitted himself better than he had in that first fight. If anything, he''d shown himself to be a better warrior when he was so tired he couldn''t think straight. +222 Life Force +13 lesser monster souls Ivarr managed to avoid any serious wounds in that fight, too, which was an improvement. Well, at least serious wounds related to the goblins. Charging around in the dark, he slipped on some ice, breaking his ankle. That mended quickly, at least, and none of the little green vermin managed to escape him because of the temporary lameness. That was as pleased as the Ebon blade could be. Even though they had yet to find another giant beast worth killing, the fact that he¡¯d killed more than a dozen goblins and beastmen before turning back toward town, combined with the hundreds of Life Force it had gathered, was acceptable. With each encounter, that number rose. What had been 684/4000 after the first beastman clan, 845/4000 after the second group of savage goatmen, and 1067/4000 after the goblin ambush was real, steady progress. While it might take weeks to boost its storage or its siphon at that rate, it was enough for now. So, when Ivarr had eaten the last of his hard tack and decided to head back down the mountain with a bag full of horns and ears to sell for the bounty that awaited him in town, the blade didn¡¯t complain. It was not heading towards its goal very quickly like this, but it was making progress. In a few weeks, it might have a few more of the greater monster souls it craved, as well as a wielder who had some idea of how to use it properly. Ch. 27 - A Trip to Town The side trip annoyed the blade to a small degree, but it was only a few days lost, and each night that Ivarr lingered in the half-burned city, it could siphon from the Lifeforce of everyone who lingered nearby. In fact, since they were going to be there only a short time on this trip, it didn¡¯t even attempt to do so in a way that spared the lives of those it touched. Instead, it latched on to the oldest men at the bar and the weakest men on the street in an attempt to murder them and drain their souls before Ivarr moved on with his day. On the first day there, in increased the strength of its drain from 2 to 3 so that It could use 25% of its drain strength, and after its second victim, it increased its reach to 4 to drain those that were sitting just a little too far away from its wielder in the places he lingered.
Aura of Hunger: Breadth 2 -> 3 - 1000 Life Energy - Affect up to seven people instead of five. Reach 4 -> 5 - 1500 Life Energy - Reach up to twenty feet away instead of seventeen. Speed 2 -> 3 - 1000 Life Energy - Drain a target over twenty seconds instead of half a minute. Strength 3 -> 4 - 700 Life Energy - Increase Aura of Hunger¡¯s Drain from 27% of your Siphon to 25%.
It seemed like an extravagant waste of Life Force, but the blade had been meaning to improve the ability for some time. It had proven invaluable when it was forced to make do in situations where there was no battle to be accomplished, and now that it could steal the souls of the humans it killed, it could truly feast. It did so with a modicum of moderation, though. No one cared when the beggar that loitered outside the inn where Ivarr dined at on the first night died. While its wielder turned in his bag of horns to be paid out in silver and copper, it feasted on the men behind him in line, and when one of them keeled over on the spot, everyone noticed, but no one associated it with Ivarr or the ugly cloth wrapped blade on his hip. Everything paused briefly while the body of the dead man was taken to the healers. After that was done, the bounty office clerk gave him five silvers for the pair of minotaur horns, one for each pair of beastman horns, and three coppers a piece for the ears. He was skeptical that Ivarr had killed such a large beast, but there was no denying that they weren¡¯t simple beastman horns. It was a tidy haul and more money than Ivarr had ever personally had before. ¡°What should I do with all of it,¡± he asked the blade when he was in the street. Food and armor are all you require, for now, the blade answered. Spend the rest on whatever you like so long as we return to combat in the next day or two before you allow your edge to dull. Ivarr did just that. Second-hand armor was easy enough to find with so many recently dead, and he got a good price on some mismatched studded leather that was only a little too big for him. He could grow into it. After that, the rest of the supplies were easy enough, and this time, he was able to afford more than a few stale loaves. On their last trip, all they¡¯d had was that and meltwater, but this time, he would be going back out into the wild with a skin of wine, some fruit, a slab of salted meat, and hearty brown bread. It struck the blade as a little decadent, but with some hunting, they might be able to stay out two or even three weeks on their next outing. Ivarr had no idea how to use a bow, of course, but the blade could always teach him how to use a snare and¡­ Why would I know or care about snares and trapping, it wondered. Tracking, it understood, and it had taken that skill for granted. Tracking let you kill people. Trapping, though? It had no idea. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The following night, he told his friends all about the easy parts of his first week when he bought them all a couple rounds of drinks to celebrate his successful first trip. They were spellbound by that tale, especially the part where the goblins had almost ambushed him in the middle of the night. No one interrupted him until all that was through, and he was talking about the old prospector who¡¯d just keeled over at the bounty office. The most anyone said about it was when Sammel laughed and said, ¡°Well, not everyone is tough like you. Being out of the city is hard on the body. Where do you even find a wench to warm your bed at night?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what the goblins are really for!¡± Brik answered. Everyone roared with laughter at that before the conversation turned to other topics. There was one point in the night when a couple of Ivarr¡¯s friends seemed like they were about to ask to go with him when he left. That was when he told them about the minotaur. Surprisingly, the blade didn¡¯t even have to push him to do that, which told it everything it needed to know about its wielder¡¯s desire for secrecy. ¡°You think this is easy?¡± he asked, slamming his almost empty mug on the table. ¡°Nothing about fighting a minotaur was easy.¡± Not everyone believed him, but they still listened to him spend several minutes recounting the battle without too much exaggeration. If anything, he¡¯s playing it down somewhat, the blade decided as it listened. Ivarr told them about how long the battle took and how important it was to use the terrain, basically repeating some of the things his weapon had told him in the aftermath of the battle. What he didn¡¯t tell them, though, was that his magical sword basically won the fight for him, which was all the Ebon Blade cared about. As long as that part stayed hidden, he was free to say whatever he wanted. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± Hallen asked. ¡°Was it easier or harder than the dragon you slew after that?¡± ¡°Dragon?¡± Ivarr asked, confused. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill any dragons.¡± ¡°Really? Because I was sure if you were out there killing Minotaurs instead of beastmen, that wouldn¡¯t be a problem for a warrior of your caliber.¡± Hallen continued. All his friends laughed at him this time, and the blade could sense its wielder¡¯s hurt feelings, but the man didn¡¯t get defensive. He just said, ¡°Well, its horns paid for your drinks and the armor I¡¯m wearing. So, you can believe whatever you like.¡± His friends wouldn¡¯t let that go so easily, which was funny because they¡¯d all had dreams of being warriors themselves, and they¡¯d all been too afraid to chase them when the time came. Unfortunately, that conversation was all it took to make sure that after its wielder struck out with the barmaid, who didn¡¯t believe the minotaur story any more than most of his friends. She¡¯d been interested in its wielder initially when he¡¯d bought drinks and laughed about fighting goblins in his underwear. Unfortunately, no one could take him seriously as a slayer of terrible beasts yet, it would seem. They will, though, the blade thought to itself as the night came to an end. Ivarr left the city the next day, all alone. He did so with two weeks of supplies, some second-hand armor that mostly fit him, and no idea that both people staying in the room next door to his were stone dead. ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll bring back the head of a griffon,¡± he told himself on the way out of the west gate. Then everyone will believe me. In time, no one will be able to doubt you, the blade agreed. Your skill is increasing noticeably, and I¡¯m certain you could take any of those other men in a fight, even with a normal blade. ¡°Yeah, but why would I want to fight my friends?¡± Ivarr asked. You might fight them for sport, the blade suggested. You might deal with them to show them that you really are the warrior you boast about. Or, perhaps one day, you might find that they aren¡¯t the friends you thought they were. You have a few silvers in your pocket now. Men have been killed for less. Ivarr insisted that wasn¡¯t the case. ¡°Brik? Hallen? None of them would ever betray me like that.¡± The blade said nothing. It considered pointing out that none of them had been brave enough to join him when he¡¯d planned to leave the safety of the city the first time, but decided against it. In its mind, letting their friend go to an uncertain fate alone while chickening out themselves was tantamount to letting its wielder die already. It wouldn¡¯t let that happen, though. It did not wish to be wielded by a monster again, so it would ensure that Ivarr lasted longer than Ren or Kell had. The young man might not have the heart to lead the war of vengeance it craved, but he had heart, and that counted for a lot. Instead of worrying about such petty dramas, it focused on the path ahead. It was back to just under 600 Life Force after feasting on the boy¡¯s neighbors and the other men in the common room last night. It would get the other upgrades it craved, and soon. Ch. 28 - Day After Day This time, Ivarr aimed to go deeper into the mountains. Rather than stay on the slopes where he could still see the city, he aimed for the closest ridge and, eventually, the valleys beyond. That journey was a slow one, though. It should have taken three days to reach that point, but each day, they found something to kill, and that slowed them down. On that first night, it was a handful of goblins. They attempted to ambush him while he was cooking dinner. They were ended swiftly. Ivarr got eight ears to show for it, and the Ebon Blade received 126 Life Force after it burned all of their lesser souls. That wasn¡¯t huge progress, but there also hadn¡¯t been any substantial risk, either. The second night, as they reached the tree line, though, the smoke from their campfire drew something much worse. This time, Ivarr had already gone to bed, and the blade was using the time to contemplate what it knew of its existence when it noticed movement at the hazy limits of its own strange perception. At first, the blade thought that the hulking form that barged out of the shadows was a grizzly bear. It was only when it screeched that it realized its mistake. It was an owlbear, and Ivarr only just had time to get to his feet before the thing dashed through his fire, sending embers everywhere. The battle that followed was brief and vicious. The blade assisted its wielder, but unlike the fight with the minotaur, it didn¡¯t simply take control. The lad suffered for that and incurred a couple deep wounds that healed almost instantly, but in the end, thanks to using the trunks of the pine trees around him as cover. +1 Life Force. +16 Life Force. +2 Life Force. Ivarr wasn¡¯t strong enough to parry the thing¡¯s terrible talons or its razor beak, but he was quick enough to dart from tree to tree, letting it spend its strength on ripping away bark and smashing wood to flinders before lashing out with a quick thrust and retreating again. +1 Life Force. +19 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +14 Life Force. +2 Life Force. The fight only took a few minutes, but the blade had no doubt that it was the drain effects of its own strange magic that won the day. None of the wounds that its wielder had inflicted were deep enough to do real damage, and it had felt only muscle and fat on the thrusts that penerated the creature¡¯s hide. Its wielder had never struck bone or organs in his efforts. The blood was only just starting to accumulate on the churned earth that had once been their campsite when the seven-foot-tall beast finally keeled over. That gave the blade its second greater monster soul, but even that was not enough to stop it from berating Ivarr for failing to follow through properly. Each blow you made could have been your last if the tree you hid behind hadn¡¯t held, it reminded its wielder. You should have made more of each strike. The only way to kill beasts of the size you seek is through blood loss or a vital strike. The young man had clearly been expecting praise and was visibly disappointed when he didn¡¯t get it. The Ebon Blade had considered it but decided he had a ways to go before a compliment was justified. Instead, it followed that conversation up with the suggestion that they should establish camp far from the corpse once he¡¯d taken its beak. Still, once Ivarr was on the move, it was able to happily reflect on the events. Despite bleeding over a dozen Life Energy from the wounds that had sliced right through the young man¡¯s armor and nicked his ribs, it was over 850 Life Force now, and it had another greater monster soul. That was how their second expedition into the mountains went. The days were mostly quiet, but almost every night was punctuated with some form of violence. That only intensified when they reached the first valley, where they found signs that an ogre or a hill giant lived somewhere near there. They spent four days there, avoiding the lair of the giant beast as they searched for other, more manageable targets. They spent four days hunting small bands of goat men, and once, they found a den of angry kobolds. Those tiny lizards were no challenge at all, which was good because Ivarr wasn¡¯t even sure if there was a proper bounty on them. +99 Life Force +10 lesser monster souls ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve heard of them, but I didn¡¯t think they lived near Kalraka,¡± Ivarr said as he decided to take their long tails as trophies. Kobolds exist anywhere man isn¡¯t, the blade said. If we go much further, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find even stranger things, too. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It almost immediately regretted making that statement because only two hours later, they found a dryad. Well, really, the dryad found them. The leaf-clad woman was more wood than flesh, and it was impossible not to hear her coming as she crashed through the woods they were exploring like a storm wind. That one surprised the blade, given how rare they were in its experience. It couldn¡¯t remember if it had actually fought one before or if it had only heard about them. It didn¡¯t matter. Her thick bark skin protected her only slightly more than its surprise from its icy touch, and she went down fast. Even better, when she died, she yielded up another greater monster soul, so it didn¡¯t mind. Of all the creatures so far that they¡¯d fought, she was the strangest. That was doubly true when she wilted and blacked after she died. To the Ebon Blade, her existence was even stranger than the dragon it had already slain, if only for the wounds she left on its wielder. For the next three days, Ivarr¡¯s wounds drained its Life Force levels, keeping them just below 1000 when it should have been above 1100. That was frustrating, but for once, he didn¡¯t blame or begrudge its wielder the energy. It had no idea that the creature they¡¯d fought had left seeds in the ugly slashing wounds she¡¯d left on him with her wooden claws. They tried to sprout for days despite its healing, and eventually, Ivarr had to strip to the waist and dig them out with his knife one bloody abscess at a time as he plucked the seedlings free. Still, in spite of that, he insisted on continuing. ¡°I¡¯m not going back empty-handed this time,¡± he promised the blade. ¡°This time, when I tell my story, everyone will believe me.¡± The blade considered warning the young man about the dangers of pride but decided against it. Pride was the prerogative of young men. Rather than do that, it warned him that the farther we stray from civilization, the more likely we are to find creatures that consider you to be the prey rather than a hunter, the blade cautioned him. Remember that. Ivarr promised that he would, and the further they went, the more his life depended on it. They quickly left beast men behind and moved on to other, more dangerous monsters. This was orc country, and they, along with the animals that preyed on them, were even more dangerous than anything that Ivarr had seen so far. The first time he saw a group of them, he didn¡¯t even engage. He simply hid in the bushes and waited for them to pass. That might not have been the bravery that the blade was used to seeing, but in this case it was the wise choice. It thought that the odds he¡¯d be able to take five of them were pretty low. Their weapons were crude, but each of them was a head taller than he was, and the way their olive skin rippled with muscles made it clear that they could split him in two with those crude stone weapons without too much trouble. When the manticore flew over them on their third afternoon in that wild place, the blade even suggested that they head back. It couldn¡¯t see it as more than a smudge in the sky, of course, but once its wielder had finished describing it, it was sure. That beast is bigger than a wagon, and if it catches your scent, it will devour you without much difficulty, it explained. Its wielder said nothing, but it could fear Ivarr¡¯s fear in that moment. They never fought the manticore or even the wyvern they saw the following day. Their final opponent before they returned was a pair of orcs. More than anything, it was those two that convinced Ivarr he¡¯d got too deep into the wild places. One bore only a giant club, while the other had a stone-tipped spear and a hide shield. Neither of them was half the warrior that Ivarr was, either, and yet they both almost killed the man. Once, when he attempted to parry the club and misjudged the strength of the blow, he paid for it by breaking half a dozen ribs. That knocked Ivarr off his feet and, worse, sent the Ebon blade flying from his hand. That would have been the end for him, except for the two brutes laughed about it long enough for its wielder to crawl across the ground and seize the blade again. -8 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +2 Life Force. As Ivarr lay there gasping, his injuries were extensive, and he drained thirty-four life force in seconds just to regain his footing. Even then, though, he didn¡¯t run. Instead, he charged, dealing several heedless blows to his surprised opponents. -34 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. Surprise only lasts a moment, though, and he outstayed that window, taking a spear through the guts as a result. Even that didn¡¯t stop him. The blade was almost proud of him for that. It would have been if it wasn¡¯t watching its Life Force totals go down in real-time as he charged up the spear to hack his opponent to pieces. +18 Life Force. -13 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +1 Life Force. -15 Life Force. The pain was so bad that the blade could feel it passing through the link that the two of them shared, but in spite of that, the young man never wavered. He just turned to the second opponent, dodged the first strike with the club, and then impaled the giant green bastard through the heart. +16 Life Force. -15 Life Force. +1 Life Force. The orc struggled after that, but as long as Ivarr refused to let go, there was little it could do. It cast its weapon aside and tried to run, but it couldn¡¯t escape Ivarr any more than its wielder could escape the spear in his belly. When its most vital organ stopped and froze while the Ebon Blade leached every last drop of life from it, the orc fell over backward, taking Ivarr with it. For a few seconds, all he could do was lay there gasping as he gripped the hilt like his life depended on it. +14 Life Force. -6 Life Force. +2 Life Force. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he gasped after he removed the spear and lay on the ground, healing. ¡°I might have a little more learning to do before we come back here.¡± The blade didn¡¯t respond. The best lessons were the ones that were learned the hard way, and there was nothing like being gutted to learn something for the rest of your life. Ch. 29 - An Abundance of Trophies The way back to Kalraka was much less eventful than the trip into the wilderness had been. They saw what might have been a griffon in the distance once, though the Ebon Blade thought it was more likely to be a giant eagle or even a condor. It was hard to say since it couldn¡¯t see things very well fifty feet away, let alone five hundred feet in the air. The beast didn¡¯t see them, though, which was the more important part of the encounter, and Ivarr continued through the valley and down the slope unmolested. The only monsters they had to fight on the way back were goblins. The ugly little scavengers were drawn to the foul smell of Ivarr¡¯s sack of rotting trophies, but even that wasn¡¯t enough to make him ditch his loot. +87 Life Force +6 lesser monster souls The monsters made for easy Life Force, and it burned their souls almost as soon as it captured them, but they were unsatisfying things. The more they fought, the more its appetite grew, and the more it craved greater challenges and the rewards that came with them. ¡°This stuff will be worth a fortune when we get back to town,¡± its wielder told the blade confidently. ¡°Besides. If I don¡¯t show everyone what it is I killed, they won¡¯t believe me this time either.¡± The blade didn¡¯t disagree with either point. It was just glad it didn¡¯t have a sense of smell. While it was certain that no one smelled good in the woods after a couple of weeks of camping rough, the idea of carrying around rotting flesh struck it as grotesque and reminded it of the goblin lair it had briefly spent time in. This time, Ivarr returned to a hero¡¯s welcome. Though one of his friends vomited at the sight of the owlbear head and the worms that were writhing in its empty eye sockets, no one accused him of making up his triumphs a second time. Immediately after that, they went to the bounty office and turned in the bits of creatures. While he was not happy to see Ivarr and his foul sack, he was impressed by the monstrous things it contained. ¡°An owlbear, huh? Orcs, too?¡± he asked after a low whistle. ¡°Not something you see every day in these parts. You should be careful if you go too deep in the mountains, lad. People that go that far don¡¯t always come back, ya¡¯ hear?¡± That warning was followed by a lecture on how he didn¡¯t need to bring back so much rotting flesh. ¡°An ear, a tusk, or a beak would suffice. I don¡¯t need the whole stinkin¡¯ head!¡± Ivarr flushed at that, and as soon as he could get a word in edgewise, he promised him he¡¯d be more careful. It was a lie as soon as he said it, but it was even less true when the bounty master paid him out in gold as well as silver this time. That gold was the first of Ivarr¡¯s life, and though it was nothing compared to the amount of gold the blade had left behind on Kell¡¯s mule, it was still impressive. It would be more than enough to upgrade his gear and buy whatever supplies he wanted. Well, within reason. They actually stopped to look at a merchant¡¯s shop that was reputed to sell enchanted jewelry, but even the least of his trinkets was fifty gold, and no one outside the army could afford such things. Some of them claimed to double a mans strength, but the shifty eyes shopkeeper wouldn¡¯t let him so much as touch them to test the veracity of those claims. Still, it was enough to make the blade wonder how such magic worked. How do I increase my wielder¡¯s strength, it asked itself. It didn¡¯t know, but it know that it did. It made Ivarr faster and stronger than he had any right to be, but if they could find a way to make him even stronger¡­ Well, then they might be able to deal with the next minotaur on more even footing. Instead of trying to buy something so pricey, he settled for new and improved armor made from his shredded set of leathers. That night, they celebrated his victory a second time with drinks. This time, a couple of his friends asked to join him, but Ivarr needed no urging to turn them down on his own. ¡°You saw what rough shape my armor is in, right?¡± he asked. ¡°It''s dangerous out there. I don¡¯t want to see you guys get hurt.¡± ¡°Well, you always come back more or less fine,¡± Brik asked. ¡°What¡¯s your secret?¡± ¡°I move fast and quiet and take them down before they even know I¡¯m there,¡± he lied smoothly. ¡°There¡¯s no way I could pull that off in a large group.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The other young men believed the lie, but they were disappointed by the statement. After that, they spent much of the night discussing whether or not they should sign up with one of the mercenary companies in the area, not that the army was starting to move. While Ivarr didn¡¯t exactly discourage them, his most recent trip had shown him just how dangerous the wilds, could be, and he encouraged them to practice their sword fighting first. He even offered to help them practice while he was in town. However, as he was starting to explain his sword fighting exercises to the group and offering to spar with them, he was distracted from that idea as soon as the same pretty young barmaid who hadn¡¯t given him the time of day the last time he was here expressed interest in him. ¡°So you really are a monster slayer after all,¡± she murmured in his ear after hearing about his other triumphs. ¡°Perhaps I owe you a very personal and private apology¡­¡± After that, the previous topic of conversion was forgotten, and he quickly left his friends alone and went upstairs for a different sort of conquest. That was a momentous first in the life of the young man, but the fact that the blade couldn¡¯t block out their rutting annoyed it more than it should have. It spent hours just looking out the window and thinking about what they could kill on their next trip in an effort to avoid it, but that was only halfway successful. Something about the moment resonated with some of its blurriest memories of Baraga. When Ivarr decided to stay a second night to wait for his armor to be repaired and upgraded with better-fitting greaves and a half chest plate of bronze, the blade knew he was really staying because of his desire for a second tryst. Although the blade certainly didn¡¯t disagree that its owner needed to be better outfitted for the challenges that lay ahead, it wasn¡¯t a fool. It knew that the reason he lingered was because of the warm bed and the soft touch of the fairer sex. The Ebon Blade considered killing her that second night and on several of the nights that followed as their one-night stay stretched on for a week. It wouldn¡¯t even be hard. She was there half of the nights Ivarr stayed and showered his friends with silver. It wouldn¡¯t have even taken a whole night for the blade to drain her dry, leaving Ivarr to wake up in the morning to a rapidly cooling corpse. It was hesitant because of the effect that such a death was likely to have on the young man, but in the end that wasn¡¯t what stopped it. It wasn¡¯t until it figured out that she was simply there for its wielder¡¯s money, and that as his coin purse shrank she became less interested that it stayed its hand. It probably should have warned him, but he wouldn¡¯t have listened. These things were best learned the hard way. It resisted, though it did vow to kill her if Ivarr suddenly lost heart in their quest to slay monsters. If anything, though, it increased his drive. The young man associated the only success he¡¯d ever had with women with his victories, and not the coins they had brought him. So, logical or not, some primitive part of his mind told him that he would have even more success with women if he bested more fearsome creatures. That was probably true, but any thoughts in that vein made it think of its first wielder, and it quickly dismissed those painful memories. As much as it wanted the answers to certain questions, remembering the man, instead of the reasons for the man¡¯s betrayal and eventual death, were something it shied away from for reasons it couldn¡¯t put its finger on. Those mental wars increased its desire to fix its soul again, but it resisted. Even if it had 5,000 Life Force, which was more than it was capable of holding, that would have been the wrong move. Now that it was actively gaining greater monster souls, nothing was more important than continuing to upgrade its soul storage. It would have been a bitter irony if it finally got thirty or forty but could not store all fifty it needed. Fortunately, even though its wielder was wasting the week, he was doing so in public places, allowing it to drain from passerbyers, and it was rapidly closing in on 3,000 Life Force. Before the next full moon, it would achieve 3,500 Life Force again, and when it did, it would spend it on Increased Storage 9. There was no way of knowing exactly how much that would increase its storage, but 5,000 Life Force and 36 souls seemed likely. That was still far from its goal, but it would be enough for a few more expeditions at their current rate. How am I ever going to get to 50 souls, though? The blade wondered. As it did the math, it realized that at the rate it was going, it would have to get to Increased Storage 13 or something, which would be insanely expensive. 3500 Life Force was expensive enough as it was. Still, as long as its wielder was lingering, it had all the time in the world to think about it. Unfortunately, that time was poorly spent, and it discovered no new answers. If you linger too long, your fledgling skills will begin to rust, the blade reminded him on the eighth day. You¡¯ll never claim a griffon¡¯s skull like you promised your lady if that happens. ¡°You heard that?¡± its wielder asked, flushing as he suddenly realized all the other things the blade must have heard. ¡°We¡¯ll get back to it soon, I promise. I¡¯m just waiting on my armor. Then when can go.¡± The blade almost laughed at that, but it held back. If its wielder was still bashful enough to think that a woman that had all but drained him dry cared about his accomplishments, then he still had a long ways to go. Ch. 30 - An Interesting Offer True to his word, they made plans to leave on the following day. However, on their last day in the city, it was not Ivarr¡¯s friends that held him up, or even the woman that he spent his nights with. The blade had not bothered to learn her name because it didn¡¯t think that the names of prostitutes mattered. Instead, it was the army itself that stopped him as he was heading out. Both of them briefly worried that they¡¯d discovered the young man¡¯s secret. The Ebon Blade could feel that fear coursing through its wielder as the lieutenant invited him to sit down for a drink, but both of them were way off base. Instead, they just wanted information. ¡°I hear you¡¯re a young monster hunter in the making,¡± the serious man said. He had a touch of gray in his mustache and was obviously a veteran. If he¡¯d been a few years younger, then the blade would have considered him to be the ideal wielder. At least, that was the case until it noticed the double griffon in the man¡¯s coat of arms. Something about that symbol soured its previous impression and left it hoping the man would choke to death on the half-finished meal in front of him. ¡°I¡¯m getting there,¡± Ivarr admitted with more caginess than humility. ¡°But I¡¯ve got a long way to go yet.¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± the lieutenant said. ¡°The bounty office gave me your name personally. Old man Naves is rarely wrong about these things. Said he¡¯s surprised someone as young as you could take down an owlbear without a scratch.¡± ¡°Well, without a scratch is a bit generous,¡± Ivarr answered, rubbing his head nervously. ¡°I was just out in the field for weeks. I just healed a bit before I got back, that¡¯s all.¡± ¡°Well, either way, I think you¡¯d make a hell of a scout,¡± the officer said, taking a bite of sausage. ¡°What do you think? We¡¯ll be moving in force soon into the mountains to clear out any lingering beastmen with a punitive force so they can never threaten Kalraka again. I could use a man like you. Hell, I could use three, but we take what we can get.¡± Ivarr hesitated, blindsided by the offer. So, the blade stepped up. Ask him what it pays. ¡°That sounds, uhm¡­ interesting¡­¡± Ivarr said. The blade could sense that his first impulse had been to agree and try to get his friends on board as well, which would have been a terrible decision. He had no idea how poorly the militaries of most lands paid, and as a lightly armed scout, he¡¯d be lucky to get a tenth of what he was making on his own. ¡°What would a man like me be worth to you?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± the officer hesitated, taking a drink from his frothy beer to buy a moment to think. ¡°For someone of your obvious talent, I think that four silver marks a week should be sufficient.¡± Both Ivarr and the blade quickly did the math and came to the same conclusion. Four silvers a week wasn¡¯t quite a gold a month. It was a lot of money, but far less than what he¡¯d made on his last trip. He¡¯d come back with nearly two and a half gold in three weeks, which meant that this would be a two-thirds pay cut at least. The surface thoughts on Ivarr¡¯s mind flicked from how light his coin purse was now to the busty barmaid and back again as his choice solidified. Suddenly, the blade was happier than ever that he hadn¡¯t killed that woman. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Ivarr said finally. ¡°I appreciate your generous offer, but I think I¡¯ll keep doing what I¡¯m doing for now. If that changes, I¡¯ll ask for you at the bounty agent.¡± ¡°Just like that?¡± the lieutenant balked. ¡°No haggling? Nothing?¡± It only occurred to Ivarr that he could haggle in that moment. The blade had known that, but it knew he¡¯d never get that number high enough to make it worthwhile. The only real advantage to such a switch would be the food, but since the blade couldn¡¯t taste that, it didn¡¯t really care. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Perhaps finding a way to get its wielder killed so that it could find a way to trade up to someone with real power and authority would be. Unfortunately, that wouldn¡¯t help it get the greater monster souls it craved. It only had four now, and it needed forty-six more before it considered any change in tactics. So, for better or worse, Ivarr was growing on it. He was a young, dumb kid, but he was earnest and talented. The two talked a little while longer, and as a consolation prize, Ivarr offered to trade some current information on mountains for dinner and a few coppers. The lieutenant accepted that. There was no reason he shouldn¡¯t; it was almost as good as getting the scout himself and at a much lower cost. Ivarr was too young and guileless to understand that, though, and the blade opted not to correct him. Instead, it listened to the conversation while the two of them ate and drank while poring over maps before its wielder was on its way. ¡°Do you think I should try to kill that ogre this time?¡± the young man asked when they were alone and well outside of the east gate. I think that fighting an ogre is the very last thing you should do, the blade answered after a moment¡¯s consideration. The thing lives to eat orcs and other similarly sized creatures. How do you think you would fare against it when you struggle to fight the things it eats regularly? ¡°Good point,¡± Ivarr admitted. ¡°But how would you fight such a thing?¡± With magic, from far away, the blade said, half as a joke, as it remembered the way that Baraga moved as he took down his first dragon. When fighting something similar to you or against multiple opponents, you must not over-commit for flexibility. When you are fighting something that is several times stronger than you will ever be, though, you must go for a single decisive strike that will end the fight before it can end you. ¡°Does an ogre even have such a weak spot?¡± its wielder asked skeptically. All things have such a weak spot. Even dragons do, the blade explained. In the case of a dragon, the thin rear wall of the eye socket or the ear allows for a strike directly into the brain, but for ogres, there are more options. There¡¯s the heart, the spine, and the tendons of the foot and leg. They have the same vulnerabilities as you do, they can just crush you into paste before you can exploit them. The two of them spent the day talking about anatomy that day as they began to climb the foothills once more. It was only in this conversation that it realized it had dramatically overestimated what its wielder knew about anatomy. Ivarr knew that things had some vital points, like hearts and eyes, and that if you struck at them, you might kill them, but that was about it. Organs, blood loss, and everything else was a complete mystery to the young man. ¡°You stab things enough times, and they die,¡± he said simply. ¡°What else is there to know?¡± There were many, many other things to know, so the blade started with the most vascular organs, like the liver, and then worked its way out from there. The two of them spent a great deal of time discussing the best ways to penetrate the rib cage, and then they went on to discuss the fragility of joints. The blade didn¡¯t bother to try to explain the differences between what it felt like to slice through ligament or a tendon, and other things he could never hope to understand. Otherwise, though, he did his best to explain things to its wielder in the hope it would make his strikes that much more decisive. When a trio of beast men attacked them near dusk, they even did a little dissection after Ivarr made quick work of them so that he could see what it was he was striking at. That¡¯s when he finally understood what the blade was trying to teach it. It was one thing to know what a main artery was, but it was another thing to see it cut with intention and watch the target collapse almost in an instant. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me any of this before?¡± Ivarr asked, both grateful and annoyed by the revelations, as he sat by a small campfire and pulled his cloak around him tighter. Honestly? The blade asked. I thought you knew. I thought this was common knowledge. ¡°Maybe if you¡¯re a veteran or a butcher?¡± the young man guessed, ¡°But the only anatomy I ever learned was how to make kegs and barrels.¡± The blade didn¡¯t comment on that. It didn¡¯t need to. Instead, it wondered how it knew these things. Did I always know them, or did I learn them through combat, it wondered. There was no doubt that it saw the world differently than the man that wielded it. It felt the impact of flesh and bone along its length. It knew the difference between a mortal blow and a flesh wound just by the feeling of the flesh it slid through. Still, the gap was clearly an oversight because of its assumptions, and it would have to correct it if the boy was ever to reach his full potential. Ch. 31 - Bigger Game The next few days were dominated by practice more than actual fighting. Now that Ivarr understood just how big a difference an inch or two could make, he fought with saplings all along his route. Each of these faux battles had a renewed intensity, sheering limbs off exactly where he meant to instead of simply being satisfied with being close enough. Though the blade gained no Life Force from these activities, it warmed some part of it to see its wielder improving. Plus, that martial focus kept its wielder from thinking wistfully about his barmaid, so it did not complain. Each day would begin and end with a vigorous exercise regime as Ivarr went through the sequence of strikes that the blade had taught him. When he pestered the blade, it even promised to teach it the rest of the sequence when he could execute the first half perfectly. It still didn¡¯t remember learning it, but it was impossible to miss the effect it was having on the young man. Not only was he noticeably more muscular than he¡¯d been a couple of months before when he first found the Ebon Blade among the rubble. His strikes were also more powerful and precise. In that time, they only killed a few packs of goblins. Still, since it had left Kalraka with just over 3,000 Life Force that was good progress. Also, it was enough to finally get the blade over its goal of 3,500 Life Force. +341 Life Force +28 lesser monster souls However, for obvious reasons, it didn¡¯t spend it immediately. Its wielder was in a dangerous place, and it did not wish for some errant blow to strike Ivarr down and leave it somewhere inconvenient. So, it waited for some big score to build enough of a buffer that it could finally upgrade and see what that unlocked. That happened a few days later when all of its wielder¡¯s efforts paid off after he spotted a lone orc hunter on the far side of the ogre¡¯s valley. It was a short battle that was barely worth mentioning, save for how different it was from his last brutal encounter with the green skins. This time, he didn¡¯t attempt to sneak up on it. He just approached with his sword in a two-handed grip as the thing raised its stone axe and bellowed a challenge. Ivarr still wasn¡¯t particularly talented at feints, but then, his opponent was the opposite of sophisticated. When he feigned a strike at the monster¡¯s heart, the thing roared and swung wildly, allowing Ivarr to step through the space behind its weapon and strike its undefended back before it could whirl around. Even though another half a dozen strikes were exchanged, the single blow had already decided the outcome of the fight. The blade had felt the main thoracic artery slice neatly in two along its edge as it reached for the heart and only just missed it. +1 Life Force. +18 Life Force. The Ebon Blade could have corrected that strike. Only a few degrees difference would have severed the heart as well, but if it held Ivarr¡¯s hand forever, then he would never improve. Instead, it would save those interventions for desperate situations, just as it had with the minotaur weeks before. +1 Life Force. +14 Life Force. +2 Life Force. You have gained 1 greater monster soul! When the orc finally collapsed mid-swing and fell down face-first on the rocky slope, Ivarr let out a whoop of delight. ¡°Did you see that?¡± he yelled. ¡°Did you see that? I destroyed him.¡± The blade had done more than see it. It had felt it as it absorbed another greater monster soul. Before it could use that Life Force to upgrade, though, it had to inform its wielder that its battle had been noticed by others. Maybe turn around and deal with the three that are coming rather than celebrate the one on the ground, it told him. Ivarr turned and sprinted toward the nearest boulder just as one of them pulled back to throw their spear at him. The second round was far less kind to Ivarr than the first had been. Though he avoided that first spear, he almost died to the monster¡¯s bare hands. While the other two spread out, it charged straight at the blade¡¯s wielder and tried to rip the boy¡¯s head clean off with its big meaty hands. -4 Life Force. It practically embedded the Ebon Blade in its own chest as it charged Ivarr, but even as it did so, it pinned the young man¡¯s arms at his side as it grabbed his skull with both hands and wrenched it hard. The blade felt half a dozen varieties of pain echo through its wielder in that moment. There was the pain of his hair being pulled out in chunks, the pain of claws ripping through his scalp to skitter across his skull, and more than anything the feeling that his neck was about to break. +1 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +2 Life Force. -23 Life Force. +21 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. That last one was a close thing. The blade could feel several vertebrae cracking beneath the terrible force of the monster¡¯s big green muscles. Only the slumping body of the orc as the blade in its chest drained it dry was enough to save Ivarr. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +2 Life Force. -18 Life Force. +14 Life Force. You have gained 1 greater monster soul! +2 Life Force. +1 Life Force. It died in the attempt with a sword in his chest, but not before it left Ivarr half blind from all the blood in his eyes where its claws raked across his scalp. As he staggered backward, the blade was forced to take over. It parried a blow that would have split its wielder¡¯s skull instead of simply his scalp, and then it followed that up by disemboweling the monster. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +14 Life Force. -9 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +1 Life Force. That wasn¡¯t enough to kill it, but it was enough to slow it down as its intestines tangled around its legs, which was all the blade was hoping for. It didn¡¯t need to kill it. It just needed to reduce its opponents so that it could face them one at a time. While it tried to stuff its entrails back in, the blade faked a move to one side of the orc before spinning around to the other and stabbing the third creature in the back. +1 Life Force. +1 Life Force. +14 Life Force. -6 Life Force. +2 Life Force. +2 Life Force. You have gained 1 greater monster soul! Unlike its wielder, the blade did not miss the most vital spot. It slid cleanly between the thick ribs of its opponent and neatly cleaved its heart in two, dropping in on the spot. +1 Life Force. +14 Life Force. +2 Life Force. -4 Life Force. You have gained 1 greater monster soul! By that point, Ivarr had recovered, and the blade let him retake the initiative as he chopped the last orc into bloody ruin. Still think you¡¯re ready to fight an ogre? The blade asked as its wielder put his hands on his knees and gasped for breath. ¡°I think that fucking hurt!¡± the boy said. ¡°My neck still hurts like hell.¡± -2 Life Force. If it had twisted just a little harder, then the monster would have popped your head right off, and you would have dropped me, the blade informed him. Then it wouldn¡¯t have hurt at all because you¡¯d be dead. ¡°How badly injured can I be before you can¡¯t heal me anymore?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°Like, can I lose an arm, or¡­¡± -2 Life Force. I have no idea, the blade admitted. As my wielder, you share the power that I store, but if you were to lose a limb¡­ I don¡¯t think that would count as you any longer, and I expect you would stay maimed. Those words weighed heavily on the young man, and even after he finished harvesting the tusks of the orcs for his bloody collection, he was quiet. The blade didn¡¯t have to read his thoughts to know what he was thinking. He¡¯d gotten cocky and felt like he was immortal, or nearly so. -1 Life Force. -1 Life Force. A brush with death had quickly disabused him of that. A little bit more pressure and his spine would have shattered completely instead of merely cracking. It might have been enough to sever his spinal cord. The blade didn¡¯t know, but it was glad that he lived because now, with 3,884/4,000, it could finally upgrade its storage again and get one step closer to its real goal. Now, all the blade needed to do was wait for its wielder to fall asleep. It could upgrade at any time, of course, but it knew from long experience that with this much energy involved, the boy was sure to feel it. The Ebon Blade did not feel like explaining those dynamics to him, and since it didn¡¯t want him to think it was keeping secrets, in just waited until he was insensible. Then, with one more look around to make sure that their small camp wasn¡¯t about to have any unexpected visitors, it made the upgrade. Increased Reserves 9 instantly burned away 3500 Life Force, and the blade felt its heart fill with ice as it lost all that power. Its gem flared to life briefly outshining the embers of their fire. Ivarr moved fitfully in his sleep in that moment, but he did not wake up. Once the moment had passed, it reviewed its current energy levels to see what had changed. At that moment, the blade¡¯s Life Force stood at 384/5000. That was enough that it could theoretically allow it to repair its soul again, which was positive. More importantly, though, was the fact that it could now hold 36 souls. That was important, considering it currently had 9 of those. The blade had 8 greater monster souls and 1 dragon soul, and it had a whole lot further to go. Fortunately, its upgrade screen revealed some options.
Aura of Hunger: Multiple enhancements available Lesser Life Reserves 1: 500 Life Force Lesser Soul Reserves 1: 500 Life Force Increase Senses 3: 750 Life Force Increase Connection 4: 1250 Life Force Increase Control 3: 1500 Life Force Empower Blade 2: 2000 Life Force - not currently accessible Improved Siphon 7: 2000 Life Force Increase Reserves 10: 5000 Life Force Repair Soul 4: 5000 Life Force
There were, in fact, not one but two more options available. It investigated both of those, along with Increase Reserves 10
Lesser Life Reserves 1: Increase your maximum Life Force reserves by 15%
Lesser Soul Reserves 1: Increase your maximum Soul Force reserves by 15%
Increase Reserves 10: This is the maximum level of increased reserves.
Though the second one dealing with soul reserves was arguably the most important one of the three little blue boxes, it was the third one that interested it the most. Does that mean other powers will stop at 10? It wondered. If that power increases my reserves to 6,000 does that mean that nothing will cost more than that? The blade had many questions at that moment. What it lacked, was answers, and it spent the night contemplating what its next move should be. Ch. 32 - A Chance Encounter For the next four days, Ivarr fought orcs, where he found them in small groups. Other times he hid or fled when he found too many of them to deal with. He was wounded in almost every encounter, but he never again came as close to death as he had so recently. That had more to do with choosing the right battles than with improving his skills with the sword, even though he was getting better at both. +842 Life Force +17 greater monster souls ¡°I need to learn how to shoot a bow,¡± he griped as the four of them waltzed across an open field in pursuit of a small herd of elk while he hid in a tree. To have a good chance of killing one of those creatures in a single shot, you would need more than a long bow, the sword explained. You would need a ballista. ¡°I don¡¯t need to kill them from here,¡± Ivarr clarified. ¡°I just need to slow them down.¡± That point made more sense. When there were five together, removing one or two from the equation wouldn¡¯t do much, but turning three orcs into two might make all the difference in the world in those first few seconds. That was not the Ebon Blade¡¯s focus, though. While its wielder focused on the world around them, it focused on its own priorities. Four days of battles had gotten it seventeen more greater monster souls from the orcs they¡¯d slain, along with another 842 Life Force. Last night, while Ivarr slept, it used 500 of that to level up Lesser Soul Reserves 1 and increase its soul storage by 10%. That left it with only 686/5000 Life Force and 26/40 souls, which meant that it was halfway to its next large goal. They were almost out of food, and Ivarr¡¯s pack was nearly filled to the brim with yellowed orc tusks, but even so, he was loathe to leave any behind since they were worth several silvers a piece. The blade¡¯s problem had nothing to do with food or tusks, though it had to do with Life Force. At this rate, it was going to have to burn greater monster souls for essence before it could collect fifty of them. As it stood, its most recent upgrade had increased its soul storage by 5 at the cost of 500 Life Force. That was a pretty good deal, considering that spending 3500 Life Force recently for Increase Reserves 9 had yielded the same benefit. The problem was that it now needed 1000 more Life Force to repeat the purchase and would almost certainly need either 1500 or 2000 Life Force after that to do it one more time. That was a lot of energy.
Lesser Soul Reserves 2: Increase your maximum Soul Force reserves by an additional 15%
I could just burn the dragon soul and solve half of that problem right now, it told itself for the tenth time. It wasn¡¯t going to do that, though, no matter how much sense it made, and the reasons were pretty obvious. Not only would it be very hard to replace, but given what the screens had told it, it was fairly certain that it would be required eventually for further progression. If I get Lesser Soul Reserves twice more, that will either bring me to 45 or 50, it realized. That still isn¡¯t enough if I hold on to the dragon soul. This conversation with itself always ended up going around in circles, and that frustrated it, but it was careful not to let that frustration arrive to the point where its wielder would be able to listen in. None of this matters, it told itself. It will take one more trip into these mountains, or perhaps two, to get what I need, it reminded itself. That was a bitter truth. Even now that Ivarr was getting several greater souls a day, it was still far too few for its purposes, which meant it might have to wait a month or more to finally unlock the next level of the Path of Death. To make matters worse, there was no more killing that day. Orcs were seen several times, but never in small enough numbers to make attacking them feasible. Worse, by night, they were forced to retreat toward the upland slopes just to find someplace out of the way enough to sleep unmolested. That was all well and good, but it also meant that they¡¯d started their return trip and were unlikely to go back to the valley in the morning for any more of the greater monster souls it so desired. It will have to be enough, the blade thought wearily as they paced up the slope. However, before it could spiral any further on the issue, it noticed that its wielder had stopped and was looking around. Do you see something? The Ebon Blade asked. ¡°No,¡± Ivarr said, ¡°Smell something. Smoke. There¡¯s a fire nearby.¡± It is almost certainly orcs, the blade cautioned him. ¡°I know that,¡± its wielder whispered. ¡°But if there¡¯s only a few of them, or they''re sleeping, the darkness will let us pull off one hell of an ambush.¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. That sentiment reaffirmed the blade¡¯s decision to stay with Ivarr as a wielder up until now. It was that sense of daring more than anything else that made it appreciate the man compared to its other recent wielders. Unfortunately, there were no orcs to be murdered when he followed the smoke back to the fire it was coming from. Instead, he found only three humans sitting around the fire, chatting quietly between themselves. What should I do now? Ivarr thought loudly at the blade as he froze there, paralyzed with indecision. Either slink away or lower your weapon and introduce yourself. It told him. Standing here in the dark is a good way to get yourself killed if they notice. Ivarr¡¯s mind considered both alternatives for a moment before he lowered his weapon and stepped forward. ¡°Well met, travelers,¡± he said stiffly. ¡°I--I¡¯m Ivarr, and I¡¯m traveling to Kalraka.¡± The strangers, for their part, were mostly calm. Only one sprang to his feet and half drew his sword, but when he looked at Ivarr, he relaxed and resheathed his blade. ¡°Don¡¯t mind, my friend,¡± one of the men said. ¡°We¡¯re the friendly sort.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just a damn kid,¡± the other man grumbled. ¡°I¡­ I was out collecting bounties,¡± he said, gesturing to the bundles of tusks lashed onto the outside of his backpack with his weapon before he realized he was still holding it and put it away. ¡°Well, the world definitely needs less orcs. So, you¡¯re welcome to crash here if you like,¡± the strange man said, ¡°We¡¯re on our way to Kalraka to resupply, the same as you.¡± Ivarr balked then, fearing a trap. In an area with so little traffic, bandits were unlikely, but not impossible. That dissipated the moment the third face by the fire looked up. It was a woman, but not just any woman. She had a definite aristocratic look about her that marked her as either a priestess or a mage. No, not aristocratic, the blade realized. She¡¯s not human. Bandits wouldn¡¯t be traveling with the likes of her, the blade whispered to its wielder. Elves can be just as evil as anyone, but those sorts tend to be filthy rich and travel with their own private armies. Someone like her¡­ She¡¯s on business of her own that probably has nothing to do with us. The blade couldn¡¯t recall spending any time with elves, nor could it remember any of them in the flickering memories that had washed over it more than once. Still, it had some definite impressions as to what they were about. Ivarr nodded at that. Thankfully, he maintained the presence of mind to avoid answering it out loud, but it was clear to the blade that he was bewitched by the woman¡¯s beauty. That made sense since she was probably the first elf he¡¯d ever seen. He looked at her with more intensity than he ever looked at his busty barmaid. ¡°I¡ª Well, how do you know I¡¯m not dangerous myself?¡± Ivarr asked, tearing his eyes off the woman with great effort. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not I that should be afraid of you, but you that should be afraid of me.¡± ¡°Anyone can see that you¡¯re dangerous enough,¡± the man laughed, not bothering to rise from his seat, ¡°No one collects that many orc tusks by being really nice to the green skins. But you¡¯re a good sort. I can tell. I got a knack for these things.¡± ¡°A knack?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°What¡¯s that¡ª¡± ¡°His God would tell him if you were a villain,¡± the other man said abruptly, interrupting the first man. ¡°Forgive my friend, Elom,¡± the apparent priest said. ¡°He¡¯s a simple sort, but in this case, mostly right. My God does not speak to me often, but Ganara does allow me to see the color of men¡¯s souls, and yours is as pure as they come.¡± The blade felt Ivarr get vaguely offended by that. The statement amused it, but it also intrigued it. It had assumed that people with those sorts of powers would see the evil radiating off of it since it was cursed, but that was apparently not the case. He mentioned nothing about Ivarr¡¯s sword. His gaze didn¡¯t even flick downwards once after that first moment. As long as Ivarr¡¯s rag covered the faintly glowing ruby in its hilt, it seemed likely that the man would ignore it entirely, which suited it fine. ¡°Well, that¡¯s very kind of you,¡± Ivarr said, eventually taking his pack off and setting it down at the edge of the firelight before joining everyone else. The four of them chatted for a bit over the dying embers of the fire. The group was apparently out this far, searching for some ruins that were said to be in the vicinity. Ivarr couldn¡¯t shed any light on where those might be, but he could tell them where there definitely weren¡¯t any ruins, and they were able to strike several unexplored locations off of their map. As the group chatted, it learned more about each of them. Only the elf spoke little, and when she did, her words were thickly accented. The other two were more social and pretty typical of priests and warriors in the blade¡¯s dimly remembered experience. That night, Ivarr didn¡¯t exactly sleep soundly, but no one tried to hurt him, and toward dawn, when Dero woke him for the final watch, the other three slept as if he was no threat at all. Only the mage didn¡¯t take a watch, but that didn¡¯t stop Ivarr¡¯s eyes from finding her several times in the dark. Wrapped in her red robes and her bedroll, he could see now details about her body, but that didn¡¯t stop him from looking at her wistfully. In the morning, they feasted on the last of Ivarr¡¯s ham, and then when they broke camp, Elom asked, ¡°So, are you going to travel with us, or do you want a head start?¡± ¡°Head start?¡± Ivarr asked, confused. ¡°You know, so you don¡¯t have to see us again,¡± the other warrior said with a shrug. ¡°Oh, well, I figure since we¡¯re going the same way, we might as well go together,¡± Ivarr agreed with only the smallest delay. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can do much more hunting. I¡¯m out of space.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± the strange warrior said, clapping him on the back. ¡°Honestly, I can¡¯t believe someone as young as you is out here on their own anyway. That must be one hell of a hexblade you¡¯ve got there.¡± In this case, Ivarr said nothing, which was the right answer. He just helped everyone get packed up, and then they broke camp. Though the blade didn¡¯t really like the idea of teaming up with anyone, and especially this group, given the way the mage was looking at its wielder, it didn¡¯t try to stop Ivarr from agreeing. It would have been stranger to refuse the offer of safety in numbers this far out into the wilderness. It¡¯s only until town, the blade assured itself. After that, it will be just the two of us again. Ch. 33 - Unavoidable The four of them made good time, and though the Ebon Blade wasn¡¯t very comfortable with traveling with strangers, after a few hours, it got used to it. Even with the elven woman¡¯s lingering gaze, it wasn¡¯t much worse than being in town after a few hours. If anything, Ivarr took to the group even faster than that, showing just how lonely he¡¯d been out here by himself. The blade couldn¡¯t sympathize. It couldn¡¯t feel lonely any more than it could feel cold or smell the scent of rotting corpses. It just saw other people as possible hindrances or avenues of betrayal. I didn¡¯t need friends, only soldiers and followers. Still, this group didn¡¯t seem like dead weight. The holy man didn¡¯t have an obvious weapon, and neither did the mage, though in her case, she was the weapon. It had no clear memories of fighting mages, but it knew they were bad news, and even the nearly 700 Life Force it currently contained might not be enough to save Ivarr if she decided she wanted him dead. It considered nibbling at her Life Force to see if she would notice but decided that it didn¡¯t want to provoke a conflict. While it could tolerate its wielder fighting beside others, it would be better if those others were simple warriors like him rather than people with a firm mastery of magic. She can probably read the words on my blade, it thought, trying to decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It couldn¡¯t say since it had no idea what they were. All of those concerns fell away, though, when they were crossing through a meadow on the far side of the valley from the ogre cave. There, they almost ran directly into the beast they¡¯d been avoiding for so long when it came crashing out of the woods on the other side of the meadow. One second, the four of them had been talking about how quickly Kalraka was rebuilding while all of them did their level best to avoid certain topics. Ivarr changed the subject when the conversation drifted toward his sword, and the mage clammed up whenever the ruins came up, forcing all of them to stick to more mundane topics. When the giant, 12-foot-tall beast that was more monster than man came out of the trees, though, those pleasant conversations about what meal they were most looking forward to eating when they reached civilization quickly transformed into screams and shouts. ¡°We need to run!¡± Dero shouted. ¡°Over open ground? Never going to happen!¡± Elom shouted back as he started to run toward the giant¡¯s right side. ¡°Ivarr! You take left, I¡¯ll take a right. We¡¯ll buy time!¡± As the other warrior did so, he drew his own weapon for the first time. ¡°Altharia, you handle it. You¡¯re only going to get one shot!¡± It wasn¡¯t a longsword like the Ebon Blade, but it was a hexblade. That was apparent by the way that the claymore glowed an angry red as soon as he was unsheathed. Ivarrr started running toward the beast as he was told, but it was clear to the blade that he had no idea what he was being asked to do, so the blade explained, The other warrior doesn¡¯t want you to fight and die. He knows you can¡¯t kill it any more than he can, but the mage can. She just needs time, which you will buy by fighting defensively. She can? Ivarr asked silently as he unsheathed his own weapon and mirrored Trav¡¯s movements. Do you know what that red sword does? It¡¯s impossible to say for sure, the Ebon Blade answered warily, But it¡¯s likely that its almost the opposite of my power. It doesn¡¯t heal you with the life force harvested from your enemies. It uses the life force of the wielder to strengthen their blows. The blade hadn¡¯t realized that it knew all of that until it said so, but it was all true. As it reflected on it, it realized that most magical weapons were like that, which made its own nature that much more anomalous. Why was I made this way? It wondered as its wielder moved into position. The only advantage that the group had was that the ogre was unarmed. If it had been carrying a tree trunk as a club, its reach would have been insurmountable. Still, it was confused. The blade could see it was more used to chasing down prey than it was to having men rush it, and it took a few ineffectual swipes in an effort to establish its reach as it bellowed at them. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The other warrior darted in first, lashing out high and fast, making the thing step back from the glowing weapon so quickly that it almost trampled Ivarr. The young man managed to avoid being crushed to death with the blade¡¯s help, but even so, it spoiled his attack, and his slash at the thing¡¯s calf barely made it through the skin instead of crippling it like he¡¯d been trying to do. +17 Life Force. +2 Life Force. The ogre didn¡¯t notice such an ineffective strike and continued to focus on the glowing blade that swung toward it again and again. This was enough to frustrate the beast, and eventually, it kicked out hard, catching Elom full in the chest and making the monster laugh with violent delight as it turned to face Ivarr. That was its only real mistake. +1 Life Force. The entire time the three of them had been fighting, the mage¡¯s power had been building. From such a distance, the blade could only see it as a faint glow, but closer, the intricacy of such delicate structures would have been unmistakable. The ogre must have been just as myopic as it was because it didn¡¯t notice anything until there was a final flare, and a lance of molten lightning pierced through the air in a straight line between where it and the mage stood. +1 Life Force. It had time to turn and face her, but the only difference that made was in where the wound was struck. It could see that she¡¯d been aiming for the thing¡¯s heart, but when it turned and straightened, it struck right through the thing''s guts, coming within inches of severing the ogre¡¯s spinal cord. That bony column stood there scorched and exposed even as blood and ichor poured out of the cracks in the otherwise charred and cauterized wound which gaped before them. The smoking hole in the ogre was the size of a large tree stump, and Ivarr could have easily climbed through it, not that anyone would ever want to do that. For a moment, Ivarr, the blade, and even the ogre stood there, stunned by what had happened. Then, it bellowed in rage and pain so loudly that Ivarr took a step back. The blade was ready to force its wielder to move, if need be, from some vicious backhand or counterstrike, but that never came. Instead, the giant, lumbering monster charged the woman who had injured it so grievously. +2 Life Force. Ivarr sprang into motion then, charging right after it. It was stupid. He should have used the moment to escape. In its rage, the monster was even stronger than it had been before, and the other warrior still had not risen from where he lay in the grass after a single blow had knocked him back. Its wielder was courting death, and yet, for some reason, the blade was loath to stop him. Is that because someone else will be here to pick me up if he perishes? The blade wondered, or do I just want to see what he¡¯s capable of? Either way, it let him charge the beast. It could see in his mind that Ivarr wanted to leap onto its back, but there was no way that was going to happen. What he should have done was hack at its Achilles tendon to make it stumble. Instead, he stored up all of his strength and then sprang explosively forward, hacking away at the exposed lumbar spine in a vicious, midair blow. +18 Life Force. +1 Life Force. It landed, and the Ebon Blade felt and heard the bone¡¯s crack beneath its blade. For a moment, nothing happened after that besides Ivarr falling into the grass and struggling to get to his feet. The ogre still roared and charged forward, and for a few seconds, it looked like it was going to reach its target and tear the fragile elf to bloody shreds. The priest was brave enough to stand at her side with a little mace he¡¯d produced from somewhere, but he could do nothing to stop three-quarters of a ton of enraged flesh from doing whatever it wanted. Then, the thing stumbled. Even as Ivarr rose, it tripped and fell on its face. Its angry bellow was gone. It had been replaced by more confused sounds as it discovered it could no longer move its legs. The neck! The blade called out finally. Strike its neck and finish it while you can! +1 Life Force. At this point, the thing was all but finished already, but the blade had no interest in letting the mage or blood loss finish it off. It would not waste this opportunity, not when its wielder could pry one more soul free for it. Ivarr didn¡¯t hesitate. He charged up the thing¡¯s back and then brought the Ebon blade down, point first, with all his might. His first strike glanced off of one of the ogre¡¯s thick cervical vertebrae and did almost nothing, but the second one sank deep between them, severing the spinal cord completely in a single motion. +14 Life Force. You have received a greater monster soul! Just like that, it was over, and the light in its eyes went out forever. Ivarr looked up just in time to see the half-finished spell of the elven mage slowly fading away. For a moment, both he and the blade had the same thought. She was about to cut him in two with a similar spell. It had just enough time to wonder if it was possible to parry such a thing, but instead, it evaporated. Ch. 34 - Aftermath ¡°Good work, kid,¡± Dero said, patting Ivarr on the shoulder while its wielder stood there trying to catch his breath. He didn¡¯t stay to chat, though. Instead, the priest started jogging toward the fallen member of his team to see if he was beyond saying. Despite his fatigue, Ivarr turned to join him, but before he could move, the mage stopped him in his tracks by asking, ¡°Your blade¡­ What is its make? I find its magic to be very strange.¡± The Ebon Blade waited for its wielder¡¯s answer almost nervously, then, as Ivarr turned back to her and regarded her silently. Then he decided to go with the truth and said, ¡°Honestly, I couldn¡¯t tell you. I found it in the ruins of the Governor¡¯s Mansion when I was helping to rebuild the city in the aftermath of the beastman attack. I¡¯ve just been using it ever since to strike down what monsters I can. Why do you ask?¡± She ignored the question and asked. ¡°Does it¡­ speak to you?¡± ¡°What? No, of course not,¡± the young man lied badly enough that the blade cringed at it, but the elf didn¡¯t seem to notice. She instead breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Some hexblades are made from¡­ unsavory methods,¡± she said. ¡°Since yours was so different, I thought it might be one of those.¡± ¡°Unsavory methods?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°What does that mean? Like evil magics, or¡ª¡± ¡°Magic is not evil or good,¡± the mage corrected him before turning her gaze to the rest of her party. ¡°Come, we must help them. We can speak later of this if you wish.¡± That pause in the conversation hurt the blade almost physically. It felt like it was just on the verge of some profound insight, and then, just like that, it was snatched away, leaving it to sulk in silence. It wanted to throttle her. It wanted to put its blade against her neck and force her to reveal what she knew. It wanted to¡­ that volcanic outrage tapered off the moment that its wielder silently asked, What do you think she meant by unsavory. Does she mean you¡¯re cursed? I have no idea, the blade confessed. But I would like to. Continue this conversation with her as soon as you are able. She is more likely to know about my nature than anyone else we could hope to find. The blade found it darkly amusing that yesterday it had been worried she would see its true nature, and now it was practically insisting she do just that. How a few simple words change things, it mused. Of course, now that its wielder had ingratiated himself by saving her life, she was much less likely to act against it. That was doubly true since he¡¯d dispelled at least one major concern she seemed to have. None of that was the reason its view on the situation had changed. It was down to pure curiosity, and if it wasn¡¯t so desperate to build the storage needed to advance along the path of death, it would be saving to fix its soul again already. Perhaps if she gives me a pretext I could simply force my wielder to strike her down and then pull what answers she has from her soul, the blade considered. Its wielder wouldn¡¯t like that, so it would be a last resort, but it was still an option. While the blade pondered these things, its wielder tried and failed to make conversation with the mage as they walked to where Elom lay. The priest was using some kind of divine blessing on the man in an attempt to help him, but even that did not appear to be enough to make him rise. When they arrived, Dero said, ¡°He¡¯ll live, probably, but I think that ogre broke pretty much every rib in his chest and more bones besides.¡± Under the warrior¡¯s chain mail, it was impossible to see the extent of the injuries, but it wasn¡¯t hard to imagine. Being struck like that would be like being kicked by ten mules. It wouldn¡¯t just be his skin that was hopelessly bruised; his organs would be just as traumatized. While the three of them discussed what they should do next, Ivarr asked, Do you think if he wielded you for a minute, it would¡ª Absolutely not, the blade roared in his mind with more outrage than it really meant to, making the man flinch hard enough that the mage gave him a strange look. I share my energy with my wielder. To give me away to another is to renounce your claim on me. If you do so, I would not welcome you back. Weapons are not treated in such a way. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Early on, it had faced a similar moment with the shepherd boy, but it had reacted far differently. So, even as Ivarr struggled with that ultimatum that the blade really had no power to enforce, it struggled to understand why its mindset had shifted so much. Eventually, as Ivarr and Dero set about building a stretcher for the man, it decided that the issue had changed from fear to loyalty. With Ren, it had feared that it would be discovered and locked away in the dark once more. While it still had that fear, the idea that its current wielder could simply give it away disgusted it. It had been loyal to Ivarr and saved his life on several occasions, directly and indirectly. Not only would it be massively stupid to reveal its powers to other men. It would represent a betrayal of that loyalty, and the blade was certain that if the young man so much as suggested it again, it would no longer feel the need to keep him alive. Fortunately, Ivarr did not do that. Chastened, he helped fashion a stretcher while the elf fetched the gravely injured man¡¯s sword, and then he and Dero continued on their journey. This time, though, because of their heavy burden, they were much slower. The remainder of the trip should have taken two or perhaps three days down the slopes, depending on how late they made camp each night. As it was, though, it would take a week with this much dead weight. Fortunately, that week was as heavy in new information as it was light on food for the three conscious members of the party. Hunting was poor this close to the city, and only a few edible roots could be found since it was a little too late in the season for berries. Still, the blade didn¡¯t care about those things. It cared more about what the mage said over the fire that night when she explained what she¡¯d meant about unsavory means and the nature of magic. ¡°A proper artifact is one that is fueled by its wielder,¡± she explained. ¡°The techniques that flow the other way, where the object powers the wielder¡­ those are more complicated and very often forbidden.¡± ¡°Why would they be forbidden?¡± Ivarr asked, failing to entirely hide his nervousness. In that moment, the blade wished that its wielder would be distracted by the beauty of the delicate blonde woman as he had been before. He looked like a guilty child, and it was sure the elf would pick up on that. This time, though, he was too worried about the blade on his hip to even pay attention to how pretty the ageless elf was. ¡°As I told you before, magic itself is neither good nor evil,¡± she lectured him in her accented voice. ¡°But even though that is so, magic can be used to do very evil things. It can cause great suffering. Sometimes, even suffering without end. It can¡ª¡± ¡°Hence why we¡¯re looking for a tomb in the area,¡± the priest interrupted. ¡°The good lady Altharia here is looking for a cursed object. It was buried with its owner, and she wants to destroy it to set it free.¡± ¡°To set the object free?¡± Ivarr asked dumbly. ¡°I don¡¯t see how¡ª¡± ¡°The Mirror of Unending Vistas is an abomination that was crafted with the souls of an order of seeresses at the heart of its dark magics,¡± she explained. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing,¡± Ivarr admitted. ¡°Nor should you have,¡± the priest agreed. ¡°This was centuries ago. The cursed name of Al¡¯Hazzarin has long been wiped away by history, but the elves remember these things and still seek to correct ancient wrongs.¡± ¡°When the mage-king died, he commanded that his mirror be buried with him so it could not reveal the location of his tomb, you see,¡± the mage explained. ¡°So the souls of those poor women have been trapped alone in the dark all this time.¡± ¡°If he was so worried, then why didn¡¯t he just break it?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°Because some men¡¯s greed knows no bounds,¡± she answered immediately. ¡°The mirror is easily broken if only the tomb could be found. When that happens, they will return to the cycle of life and death and be born anew like the rest of your kind.¡± ¡°The rest of my kind?¡± its wielder asked. ¡°Are you saying¡­¡± Ivarr received the shock of his life that night when he learned that it wasn¡¯t simply a myth that elves live forever. After that, as much as the blade wanted to return to what it was she saw when she used her magic to look at it, the conversation was lost in a rehash of things the weapon already knew. Elves were functionally immortal and rarely ventured into the wider world. She told him a bit about their cities and their culture. That part was interesting, but the blade was pretty sure it had known all of this at some point. What it didn¡¯t know was about its origins, and it felt like it was so close to some breakthrough that it would have asked her itself if only she''d touched its hilt. That didn¡¯t happen, though, and no matter how much it told its wielder to dig into the topic again, the opening didn¡¯t come up again in the slow days that followed as they made their way down the mountains with their injured companion, step by treacherous step. On the third day, after the priest prayed for the wounded warrior for the fourth time, he actually woke up, however briefly. That was a good sign. However, when the man lapsed back into unconsciousness, and Ivarr asked the priest, ¡°Why can¡¯t you just mend his wounds?¡± he received an interesting answer that surprised the blade as much as its wielder. ¡°Holy magic can only do so much,¡± the priest explained. ¡°It can reattach limbs if it is used soon after battle, but even then, it would be days or weeks before such an arm or a leg could be used. The love of the gods can only augment the strength of the body''s natural healing.¡± ¡°So there¡¯s no way to just¡­ make a wound heal completely?¡± Ivarr continued, trending more dangerous ground. ¡°Well, there are ways,¡± the priest admitted, ¡°But all of them are forbidden. We will just have to be patient and hope that Elom makes a complete recovery in the fullness of time.¡± Ch. 35 - Teamwork Day by day, the other warrior improved. Some nights, they still had to deal with goblin attacks, but those were no longer any trouble for the Ebon Blade¡¯s wielder, and by the time they reached the city walls, Elom could even walk on his own. He was slow and tired quickly, so they ended up carrying him more often than not. Still, despite the occasional nighttime attack, the four of them made it back safely. +231 Life Force +16 lesser monster souls The only real advantage to traveling with others was that someone would wake you before death slinked close enough to rip out your throat. Ivarr had that advantage thanks to a blade that needed no sleep already, but he seemed to sleep sounder knowing someone had his back. Compared to its wielder¡¯s reaction to recent events or even his new companions, the blade thought it was the reaction of Ivarr¡¯s old friends that was more telling. Over the course of the day that he arrived, he found out that there¡¯s been a pool started on whether he¡¯d come back alive by the bounty officer, and if he hadn¡¯t come back in the few days, they were going to declare those who¡¯d bet on his death the winners. That made sense, considering half of the man¡¯s friends acted as if they¡¯d seen a ghost when he showed back up. Brik had apparently even gone out to look for Ivarr, though he lasted only a night in the wild places beyond the city before he returned. The only one who really didn¡¯t seem to notice his absence was the barmaid. After spending so many nights together, she barely knew who he was. Though his full coin purse was enough to remind her as he introduced his new friends to his old ones at the Hungry Hobgoblin that night when he bought everyone a celebratory dinner, by then, it was too late. That blank look had been enough to let him see through her for the first time, and that night, against all odds, Ivarr slept alone. It was a minor miracle, too, considering his purse was overflowing with as much gold as silver. Even after he¡¯d split the bounty from the ogre four ways, the sheer number of orc tusks he¡¯d turned in had bankrupted the bounty office, and they¡¯d had to send a messenger to the new Governor¡¯s office for more coin to pay the man. ¡°8 regals and 12 silver marks... Ho boy... That''s more than I¡¯ve paid out in a spell,¡± the old man told him when he tallied up the coins. ¡°You keep it up, and the army won¡¯t have anything left to fight. They¡¯re having trouble finding beastmen as it is!¡± ¡°The beastmen are all but gone,¡± Ivarr agreed. ¡°There¡¯s still bigger game to be found.¡± That rare event had caused enough curiosity that an army captain came down and offered Ivarr yet another position. It was even at a better rate, but by then, he¡¯d already promised his services to Altharia and the others until they found what they were looking for days before. The blade had seen that coming but made no move to stop it. As long as its wielder made no move to betray it, it would trust his judgment. It didn¡¯t really care what they did so long as they were slaying monsters, and now that the mage had proven so knowledgable it wasn¡¯t in any hurry to be rid of her soon either. The ogre¡¯s death had brought it to twenty-seven souls, which put it just over halfway. That was the good news. The bad news was that the days passed by relentlessly as they waited for Elom to heal. That was agonizing because every day, the man seemed unlikely to improve much further, but every week, he got noticeably better in a way that made everyone hold out hope a little longer. After two weeks, they¡¯d finally began to purchase supplies, along with a mule to carry them. Two of Ivarr¡¯s friends had even decided to join the group for the next chapter of their little adventure, though he¡¯d tried hard to talk them out of it. ¡°Didn¡¯t you see what that ogre did to Elom,¡± Ivarr said when they were out drinking one night. ¡°It nearly murdered him. A month later, he¡¯s still nearly crippled!¡± ¡°He¡¯s getting better,¡± Brik insisted. ¡°Your holy friend says that it in time he could make a full recovery!¡± ¡°Yeah, and when¡¯s the next time we¡¯re going to go beyond the walls with a priest and a mage.¡± Sammel chimed in. ¡°We¡¯d be fools not to jump at this.¡± Ivarr suppressed a sigh, but the blade still heard it. Its wielder suspected that both of the men were going to be somewhere between dead weight and a burden. It was inclined to agree, but when he¡¯d asked it for advice, all it had said was, We don¡¯t need any of them. Not the priest or the mage, either. We¡¯re doing just fine on our own. The young man had agreed but wanted to help them on their mission, and he saw no need to force the issue. Unfortunately, later that night, when Elom joined the three of them for drinks, the pleasant night turned sour. Both of the younger men used that as an excuse to go pack, leaving Ivarr to drink with a drunk, half-crippled warrior. Sober, he was generally fine but drunk, he found subtle ways to twist the knife and imply that it was Ivarr¡¯s fault he¡¯d ended up this way. ¡°Look at you,¡± he slurred. ¡°Not a ssscar on you. You don¡¯t know the first thing about this sort of pain.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been pretty lucky,¡± Ivarr agreed. ¡°Luck. Pah!¡± the other warrior sneered, finishing his drink in one long pull. ¡°No one kills that many orcsss without takin¡¯ a wound or two. Nobody.¡± Ivarr didn¡¯t have a good answer for that, so he didn¡¯t give one. Instead, he just let the man vent about how he was still twice the warrior of any man in the bar. Elom had proved to be a lousy drunk, but Ivarr knew he¡¯d be fine in the morning, or at least as close as he got to fine, and the blade had long since decided it wasn¡¯t wise to snuff him out like a candle with the mage about. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°You¡¯re going to be okay, man,¡± its wielder tried to reassure him. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± That turned out to be false. Partway back to their inn, when Elom tripped, or at least pretended to, he yanked the sword out of Ivarr¡¯s sheath as the other man helped him to his feet. This enraged the Ebon Blade. Even as it felt its strength flowing into the other man, it rejected him. At that moment it had 1036 Life Force saved up. It had planned to get Lesser Soul Reserves 2 as soon as it had a couple hundred spare Life Force to spare to make sure it could keep its wielder breathing. Instead, it spent that thousand Life Force at that moment, emptying its reserve. That brought the blade¡¯s soul storage to 27/46, but in this moment, it didn¡¯t care about its longer-term goals, only in punishing someone who had stolen it from its rightful owner. If it was going to be stolen by an interloper anyway, it might as well use whatever it had to deny it to the bastard. Even as it rejected him, for a moment, it still glimpsed the man¡¯s nature, just as Elom was allowed to feel the power of the blade surge through him. His spine straightened, and his legs flexed as crooked bones mended themselves. Then, just like that, it was gone.
Name: Elom the Bloody Occupation: Mercenary
Toughness: 4 +1 Strength: 5 +3 Agility: 6 +2 Speed: 5 +1
Intelligence: 4 Willpower: 4 -1 Morality: Selfish Bloodlust: Medium
Status: Normal
Martial Skill: Medium Armor Proficiency: Low
Dodging: Medium Athletics: Medium
Goal: To get rich and steal the contents of Al¡¯Hazzarin¡¯s tomb for himself.
The brief insight was enough to show the Ebon Blade that in some ways the man would be a better wielder than Ivarr. Still, it rejected him. It Would choose who held it, and it would not be separated from a wielder until that man had failed it. It didn¡¯t know where that loyalty was coming from entirely, but it did not question it. ¡°Yessss!¡± He called out, raising the weapon to strike down its wielder. ¡°I knew it!¡± Even as he did, though, the blade acted a second time. With a wielder who was willing, it could help them fight and boost their performance to a level they might have never reached on their own. With a weak wielder, it could take control almost completely in all but the most dire situations. Against a strong wielder, though, it could still struggle in their grip. So, as the now uncrippled warrior tried to bring the sword down, he found himself suddenly all but frozen in place. His muscles might be stronger than they¡¯d been in weeks, but now they fired spasmodically as two minds struggled for control of the same body, giving Ivarr a desperately needed opening. He responded by bringing his forehead down hard on the other man¡¯s nose, spreading it across his face even as he reached up to contest control of the blade. That moment was as confusing for the blade as it was for the two men struggling to take control as it felt its connection shift back and forth between them, and for those few frantic seconds where they struggled and fought, all it could do was watch lest it hinder or aid the wrong man. For a moment, it didn¡¯t connect with either of them, though. Instead it connected with something else, and even as that connection felt strange, and it realized it was the other man¡¯s sword the Ebon Blade pulled away. Something had happened, though, and as the struggle crescendoed both swords flared to brilliant life.
Sword of Destruction (Rageblade): Two-handed, -2 Life Force/Minute. Increases the wielder¡¯s strength and toughness by 5. Can be used to trigger a Devastating Blow at the cost of 3 Life Force.
Elom¡¯s hexblade glowed red in its scabbard so brightly that it shined through the leather in some places. The Ebon Blade, on the other hand, only glowed red from the ruby in its pommel. The rest of its runes began to shimmer darkly, drinking in the light as they danced with dark flames. ¡°No!¡± Elom gasped. ¡°It¡¯s mine! I need it!¡± The moment that Ivarr regained control it refocused, and broke the blade free from the interloper''s grip. Then the blade flooded its wielder with strength, and Ivarr used that to bring the weapon down hard on the man¡¯s collar bone, cutting through his neck and partway through his sternum in a blow of pure rage. +19 Life Force. +12 Life Force. -1 Life Force The weapon didn¡¯t understand why it lost life force any more than it understood why the blow was so powerful that it actually dug into the wall of the building they¡¯d been struggling against. It wasn¡¯t until it saw the message that it made sense. You have learned amplify blade. The dying warrior looked at Ivarr one last time with a look of complete shock. ¡°Why?¡± he managed to mouth silently before dying on the spot with his chest cleaved nearly in half. +14 Life Force. You have gained a human soul. Ivarr stood there for a moment in shock, with his sword still in the other man. ¡°I-I didn¡¯t mean to do that¡­¡± he said finally. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to kill him.¡± I know you didn¡¯t, the blade told him, uncertain if it was Ivarr or its own violent impulses that had ensured the other man¡¯s death. In the end, it didn¡¯t matter. He deserved to die, and the blade was not saddened by it in the least. Still, after a moment, it followed up with, You should go. If your new friends find out about this, they won¡¯t be your friends anymore. ¡°But I can¡¯t just leave him here!¡± Ivarr protested. You can either do the right thing or the smart thing, the blade argued. No one will believe this was self-defense. Everyone else knew that the man was crippled. Its wielder considered this for several seconds then sheathed his sword and fled into the darkness toward his inn. Even if it wasn¡¯t right, he still knew it was the right thing to do. Ch. 36 - Insight That night, Ivarr barely slept. While he tossed and turned fitfully, the Ebon Blade studied its new powers. In the aftermath of the fighting, it noticed that the ruby that was its heart had grown slightly clearer. The thing¡¯s facets might even have grown sharper. It wasn¡¯t sure. There was also a new line of runes on the backside of its blade. While it couldn¡¯t be certain that these mirrored Elom¡¯s hexblade, it was pretty sure that was the case. Only one had announced itself in the middle of their recent fight, a second one was there on its option list waiting to be purchased. It didn¡¯t have the Life Force to level either of them up without burning a soul or two, and it was loath to do that. Still, it learned what it could.
Amplify Blade 1: This ability focuses the magic of the blade for a single moment, though not without cost. Use up to 1 Life Force to increase the power of an attack by 10% per life force spent.
Amplify Wielder 1: The Blade¡¯s connection with the user deepens. Increase the strength and toughness of the wielder by 3 at the cost of 1 Life Force every two hours.
The few details it could discover were evocative, that though it didn¡¯t like the idea of wasting energy to fuel abilities like this, it was sure that Amplify Blade would be used often enough. Some enemies, like the ogre, called for a certain level of strength. It was strange to the blade that it had gotten new powers and all. Stranger still, though, was the way in which it seemed to have gotten them. It had stolen them from the other man¡¯s weapon. No, not stolen, it realized, copied. The other hex blade likely still functions just as it did before, but somehow, I¡¯m more than I was. As it studied the runes on its blade it saw that they hadn¡¯t changed, but they were just as incomprehensible as they usually were.
Aura of Hunger: Multiple enhancements available Parasitic Link 2: 250 Life Force Amplify Wielder 1: 350 Life Force Amplify Blade 2: 500 Life Force Lesser Life Reserves 1: 500 Life Force Increase Senses 3: 750 Life Force Increase Connection 4: 1250 Life Force Increase Control 3: 1500 Life Force Lesser Soul Reserves 3: 2000 Life Force Empower Blade 2: 2000 Life Force - not currently accessible Improved Siphon 7: 2000 Life Force Increase Reserves 10: 5000 Life Force Repair Soul 4: 5000 Life Force
While it didn¡¯t know why it had the former unlocked by itself but the later needed to be unlocked, it was grateful for it. It did not wish to be locked into paying additional costs for its user without a choice in the matter. The blade spent the evening studying them both, and was only distracted sometimes by its wielders nightmares. Once the sun rose, it set these issues aside and focused on its wielder, who was acting as if he¡¯d confess the moment anyone even mentioned Elom¡¯s name. With some subtle interference from the blade, he¡¯d calmed down some by lunch. That was good because it was only a few hours after that Dero even noticed their half-crippled colleague was missing and went to look for him. ¡°You sure you haven¡¯t seen him?¡± he asked everyone at the table. ¡°I thought he was just sleeping one-off, but he¡¯d be down here to eat by now at least.¡± Ivarr said he hadn¡¯t, though he did admit to drinking with him the night before. Brik and Sammel gave similar stories, but none of them thought to mention the order in which the four of them had left the tavern, which was ideal, considering that the misconception immediately removed whatever suspicion might have existed from its wielder entirely. The warrior''s room had been empty, and his bed was still made, so Dero began his search near the bar they¡¯d been at. By dinner, the priest had found the truth, and by the morning of the following day, they¡¯d found the culprit and arranged a public hanging. Though the man claimed he¡¯d found him dead and had simply stolen the two-handed hexblade that he wore, no one believed that anyone could cleave through a man¡¯s torso and the building behind him with anything else. This miscarriage of justice was almost enough to make Ivarr confess, but the blade convinced him not to do that. Some of this was done with a long silent discussion about it while the two lay awake the night before the execution. The rest was done by subtly encouraging the man to drink enough the following day that by the time the innocent thief was left dangling from a tree and the crowd who had come to watch the spectacle was beginning to disperse, he was good and drunk. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. While its wielder did that, the blade leached from everyone around it that would stand still long enough for it to drain a life force or two. By the time the hanging was complete, it was back to 124/5000 Life Force, which was an acceptable That night the elf stayed with him that night for hours after his friends poured him into bed. She told him how touched she was by how Elom¡¯s death had moved him and vowed that it would not be in vain. Its wielder wasn¡¯t conscious for any of that, which was tragic because she was half as inebriated as he was, and it was clear to the weapon that the striking elven woman was looking for someone to comfort her. Ivarr couldn¡¯t handle anything close to that in his current state, though. Anything like kindness or desire would have been enough to crack his young soul right down the middle, so the blade pushed him down deeper into slumber while the elven maiden stroked his hair and complimented him. Ivarr might be a killer when it came to monsters, but as far as humans went, he was still a kid, and he felt terrible about what he¡¯d done. The fact that it was self-defense didn¡¯t make the burden any easier for his soul to bear. To the Ebon Blade, that was a warning sign that, in the long term, it needed to find a new wielder. That was probably true, but such a thing would not be someone else¡¯s decision. It would rely on its current wielder until the main failed to meet its standards. That was the way of things. It had been held prisoner for too long. From now on, it alone would decide what its future held. It was with that thought in mind that it turned to its final task of the evening once the mage had left Ivarr¡¯s room in the early hours of the morning: devouring Elom¡¯s soul. The moment it had stolen it in the heat of battle, the blade had almost devoured it on the spot. However, after a few seconds of thought, it decided that the knowledge it contained might be more valuable than a hundred or a hundred and fifty Life Force. It could collect that much energy in a couple of days of wandering around the city with its wielder, so that wasn¡¯t much of an incentive. The knowledge that Elom could grant about the people he¡¯d been traveling with, though, that was unique and priceless. Tell me about the mage and her mission! The blade commanded as the thin cobwebs that had once been a man¡¯s existence blazed to life and then evaporated under the weight of the question. Even as the Ebon Blade asked, it was bombarded with memories and thoughts from the dead man. Many of them were vague and half-formed, but slowly, they bled together, filling in each other¡¯s gaps to form a fuller picture. There was a first meeting where Elom seemed to have been more concerned with payment than mission. It was clear that he¡¯d planned to betray the other two as soon as it was convenient to do so. There were also snippets of nights around the fire discussing the place they were looking for and the man who had made it. They came together, one at a time until they were one long conversation. It was more than a little repetitive, but the main thing to be gleaned from it was that the elven mage didn¡¯t seem to know much beyond what she¡¯d already shared. While the map revealing the supposed location of the tomb led to this region, the legends regarding the man were older than the stones of Kalraka¡¯s city walls. He was a vile man who had coveted his possessions until his last breath and had apparently built a trap-ridden tomb to protect them for all time. What did the tomb look like? How big was it? How many levels did it span? No one could say. Those facts were as mysterious as its location, and all anyone knew about that was that it had remained hidden for a long time. Until Altharia¡¯s research had uncovered the notes made by one of the man¡¯s surviving apprentices, no one could even say what part of the old empire it had been in. Still, the warrior hadn¡¯t balked at any of that. Neither the traps nor the monsters they might find on the way there had concerned Elom. The idea that deathless guardians might have been left behind to protect the man¡¯s crypt didn¡¯t seem to trouble him either, but that didn¡¯t surprise the blade. In these memories, he was much as he had been in life. He was a brash man with a large, magical blade. He thought that his ability to cleave nearly anything in two had made him invulnerable. He quickly found out that wasn¡¯t the case when the ogre¡¯s foot had left him with two dozen broken bones, but that had no bearing on the mage¡¯s mission. The memories continued to flow through it, giving it a much better idea of some of the places they¡¯d already searched and how little they¡¯d found. Apparently, they¡¯d been on the verge of giving up when they¡¯d found Ivarr. The blade thought it might have been better if they did. Though it was certain its wielder would get to hunt more monsters either way, it wasn¡¯t sure that it wanted to get tangled up in this mess. Is it really worth dealing with all this for a few answers about how magic works? It asked itself. Does she know enough to shed light on how and why I was made? Unfortunately, that answer was probably still yes, it realized. Even now, when it could probably get Ivarr to abandon these people and flee into the wilderness alone, it realized that it probably should keep them together until it learned more from her about the nature of magical artifacts. As the rapid-fire images faded, it was a little disappointed in the memories it harvested. The weapon knew everything that Elom had known about the mage and her quest, but in the end, it hadn¡¯t been enough to fill a tankard. The man simply had no curiosity and had asked very few questions. Most of the stray answers had come from Dero''s idle curiosities while the three sat together around the fire. The Ebon Blade had been hoping for some more insight into the mage and some hint of treachery about her mission, but there was none to be found. Altharia, it would seem, was an open book. There were flashes of some of the previous battles and moments where they thought they¡¯d found the ruins in question. The only value those had, though, were the flashes of various spells she¡¯d used. It wasn¡¯t just lightning and fire that danced to her tune. She could also wield ice and other stranger forces that it had no names for. I should be wary of her, the weapon decided. She is dangerous, though perhaps not so dangerous as Ivarr¡¯s guilty conscience. The blade spent the rest of the night more worried about the latter than the former. It could do nothing about the mage, but there were things that could be done about its wielder, and it vowed to harden the young man¡¯s heart before it gave them away at some inopportune moment. Ch. 37 - The Way forward With a pall that was equal parts hangover and guilt, the group set out the following morning. It was something everyone had been looking forward to. Even with doubts about Elom¡¯s ability to keep up or even fight, they all wanted to leave the city and return to their quest. With his death, though, it was almost like a funeral procession. The blade didn¡¯t care about any of that. Instead, it subtly assaulted its wielder with feelings of resolve and righteousness. He¡¯d acted in self-defense. He shouldn¡¯t need such reassurances, of course, but the blade could ill afford a breakdown. Not when it was getting close to its goal. This time, they went further west than Ivarr had on previous trips. Instead of crossing through the same passes and going through the same valleys that he¡¯d hunted in before, they looked for evidence of the mage¡¯s tomb on the steeper slopes to the west, where nature would be a better guardian than any trap. Progress was slow, because they¡¯d traded forest valleys for scree covered slopes and windy escarpments. Worse, though, was that monsters were much more scarce than they¡¯d been before. After three days, they¡¯d killed a handful of goaty beastmen but nothing with a greater soul. The slopes were too barren for even goblins to scavenge. The fight with the beastmen was only notable because that was the first time that its wielder noticed the blade¡¯s new power. I feel stronger, somehow, he confessed the the blade after he took the head off one in a single clean stroke instead of simply hacking deep enough into its spine to murder it. +1 Life Force +12 Life Force. -1 Life Force +1 Life Force +2 Life Force This magic burns the same energy that heals you, the blade warned him, so use it with care. Not all strikes need to be enhanced. As we discussed, precision matters more than strength. Its wilder¡¯s thrill was muted as that sobered him. ¡°I¡¯ll remember,¡± he promised. In the grand scheme of things, using an extra point of life force a few times in every combat wouldn¡¯t matter too terribly much. The blade hardly cared about that level of leakage. What mattered to it was that it didn¡¯t want its wielder to get lazy and learn to rely on tricks rather than skill, so it made its powers seem more precarious than they truly were. Still, the stunning vistas and the company of Ivarr¡¯s friends improved its wielder¡¯s mood day by day, and that was worth something, too, so the blade did not complain. Instead, it watched the young man¡¯s friends try to emulate the exercises he did with his sword every night with great amusement. That, as much as anything, was the sign of the real progress its wielder had shown. Only a couple of months before, Ivarr had been just as graceless, but now his movements spoke of economy and power, and the swings came from his shoulders and hips. He wasn¡¯t just tracing the motions. He was swinging the weapon with real power as he went through each stroke. His friends couldn¡¯t even manage to trace the lines with any sort of exactness. Still, they tried, and after a few days, Sammel showed some signs of improvement. Brik, though, was better off using a spear in combat and keeping back reinforcements so that Ivarr could make quick work of the monsters they faced. Any skill that either of its wielder¡¯s friends might have shown in practice or sparring was lost in actual combat. There, both men were held back by fear more than inexperience and flailed wildly in their first fight. Neither scored a kill, but they kept themselves from being stabbed by the goatmen¡¯s spears, and that was the most important outcome. +221 Life Force +5 Lesser Monster Souls By the time they summited the first peak, the blade considered both men good for nothing but a source to drain Life Force from, but it resisted. Weakening them would only slow down the meandering group even further. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Near the top of the mountain, they found a large griffon¡¯s nest that was filled with the bones of the dead, but unfortunately, it was nowhere to be seen. The group it was with was grateful for that, though it regretted that it could not steal the thing¡¯s soul and it to its collection. In all the days since Elom¡¯s passing, it had only managed to gain another 400 Life Force. Fortunately for it, things only got worse as they passed beyond those rocky slopes and into the new valley because that¡¯s where they finally found more orcs. Up until that point, it was the terrain that had been hard and the battles that had been easy. Now, suddenly, things were reversed, and the slopes were as gentle as the enemies were brutal. As the group and their donkeys progressed through that backcountry, it occurred to the blade that such areas would be perfect for farms and villages. Those wilds were certainly more hospitable than the plains they¡¯d started their journey on. If not for the monsters that infested the area, the whole area would certainly be thriving. Orcs tended to prevent that, though. Each time they attacked, it was like a bolt from the blue. There was no warning, and in a group this large, there was no avoiding them and picking their battles, either. It was the moment the fight with the first hunting band of greenskins started that the blade purchased Amplify Wielder 1. This small ability made the setting that its ruby heart was mounted in grow slightly, becoming slightly more ostentatious. It was a hard thing to notice, but the gold mount that held the huge gem in place had definitely grown. Now, it wasn¡¯t just eight small gold tabs holding the thing in place. It was a variety of little triangles, like a tiny crown around the edges. It also noticed that getting Amplify Wielder 1 added a new option to its purchase list, creating Parasitic Link 2. That hadn¡¯t been there before, when it had purchased Parasitic Link 1, but apparently it didn¡¯t have an ability that would make such a thing necessary. The blade was not giving its wielder 3 strength in total. It had wondered if the new bonus would simply replace the old one that had been there before, leaving the number unchanged, but it turned out to be additive. This made Ivarr almost as strong as the orcs he faced. The last thing it wanted was to spend Life Force on anything but increasing its soul storage. Unfortunately, it knew that the group would need every advantage now that its wielder was bogged down by his friends. Hiding from encounters that were too hard to tackle was no longer an option. Against those first two orcish marauders, the combination turned out to be overkill. Ivarr didn¡¯t move any faster, but he certainly seemed to, in the way he met the first orc head on, brimming with confidence. He actually managed to parry an orc¡¯s axe before he cleaved off its limbs with ease. He proved to be every bit as monstrous as the orcs he faced in that encounter. However, those upgrades proved necessary and even vital in the days ahead. +118 Life Force +2 Greater Monster Souls Sometimes, if they were spotted a ways off, the mage could strike down at least a few of them. More often than not, everything came down to Ivarr, and the blade appreciated those moments more than anything. The young man charged right into the thick of the fray. Sometimes, his friends would follow close enough to keep his flanks clear, while other times, they would stay back to guard the mage and the priest. With every encounter, though, the young warrior was quickly showing more prowess than he had any right to have at such a young age, and even though half of that was magical augmentation, the other half was dedication and practice. +134 Life Force +3 Greater Monster Souls Only the mage seemed concerned by this as the five of them sat around the fires by night. Dero, Sammel, and Brik would cheer on his exploits while Ivarr attempted to downplay them. Only the elf would ask him piercing questions during lulls in those boisterous conversations. How had he gotten so much stronger so quickly? Had his blade¡¯s hilt actually changed? Did it feel strange when he felt it take a life? Ivarr answered the best he could. He promised that nothing strange was happening. ¡°It¡¯s the same sword it always was,¡± he said earnestly. It didn¡¯t even feel like a lie from him since he probably didn¡¯t even notice the subtle changes. ¡°As to the orcs¡­ well, at this point, I think I¡¯m just getting good at killing them. They¡¯re pretty much the monster I¡¯ve fought the most.¡± The mage nodded. She never directly disagreed with Ivarr, but the way she looked at the blade so often told it everything it needed to know. She was able to see something that no one else could. She could see past its glowing ruby and beat-up appearance to see some truth about it. Once, she even touched it when its wielder was asleep. It did not wake Ivarr. It was certain rousing him just in time to stop it would be more suspicious than anything she hooded to find. Instead, it lay there silently with its breath held as it felt her cool fingers on its hilt and her sharp mind probing its soul. That moment felt almost like the moment it had connected with Elom¡¯s hexblade. Briefly, it considered what it would be like to reach out and connect with her, but it resisted the urge because if she felt anything, it knew that such a moment would inflame her curiosity. She¡¯s already out to destroy one artifact, it reminded itself. She would have no problem adding another to the list. The Ebon Blade had not been destroyed by the molten blood of a dragon, but it was fairly certain that if this mage tried, she¡¯d have better luck. Ch. 38 - The Ways of Death Days stretched into weeks as they made their way further and further into the unexplored areas where they thought the tomb might be hiding. They scoured hills, hoping that they were rocky cairns, and they braved orc-infested standing stones, hoping that they might have been erected by man instead of nature. +146 Life Force +4 Greater Monster Souls No matter how many of these out of the way places they scoured, though, they never found even a hint of the mysterious location. Though the blade didn¡¯t have the best sight, it appeared to be utterly untouched by human hands. Instead, everywhere they went, they found more violence. This far from the comforting walls of Kalraka, it was the one true constant. Well, that and the fact that it was running out of space to store souls. The blade was still hundreds of Life Force away from gaining the next level of Lesser Soul Reserves, and it had less than ten spots left to fill before its soul reserves were entirely filled, even after devouring all of the lesser souls it had picked up. That wasn¡¯t the end of the world since it could simply consume the excess for Life Energy. Somehow, that felt like a step back to it. Though there would always be more orcs, the fact that it was so close to its goal but still so far away bothered it immensely. +188 Life Force +5 Greater Monster Souls One night, in their second week, they were attacked by another minotaur that was only slightly smaller than the first one that the Ebon Blade had beaten with difficulty months before. This time, it did not attempt to force Ivarr to dance to its tune. In fact, it only adjusted a few blows here and there at critical moments. +15 Life Force. +1 Life Force Even with so little interference, though, its wielder proved to be its match this time. Even with his magical strength, he lacked the ability to go toe to toe with the thing, but that was true for almost any opponent this deep in the wild. Instead of trying to parry the blows of a minotaur¡¯s club, he let the trees do that. He sprinted from trunk to trunk, jabbing where he could, wearing the beast down until it bled out. +1 Life Force +19 Life Force. +1 Life Force For a moment there, the blade felt itself in perfect unison with its wielder. It wasn¡¯t trying to force or even nudge Ivarr to make the perfect strike. They were both doing it at once, in perfect unison. In that moment it felt like they might have beaten anyone with a little effort. Synchronization Achieved, +100% damage, +100% dodge for one minute. The message was almost expected this second time. The last time it had seen the pop up, it had been because both he and Ren desperately wanted to kill the dragon. This time it wasn¡¯t about the minotaur, or about saving Ivarr¡¯s companions. It was about the pure thrill of battle. Their souls sang in those desperate moments as they constantly pivoted around the larger, stronger foe. They were moving so fast that the world seemed to slow down around them, and both of their souls rejoiced in the dance of death that they were, for the first time ever, equal parts of. +1 Life Force +2 Life Force +14 Life Force. This time, he didn¡¯t even need to wait for the club to break. He just ducked one of the attacks once the eight-foot tall bull started to tire and brought his sword around in a vicious backswing that was so hard that it not only severed the beast¡¯s spine but it made the runes along its blade briefly glow with black fire as it enhanced the strength of the attack well beyond normal human limits. After that, there was nothing to do but put the braying beast out of its misery. With a short, sharp jab to the base of its neck. It was a mercy killing for a foe that had fought well, and the blade respected the dead monster more than most of the men it had encountered to date. +1 Life Force +17 Life Force. You have gained a greater Monster soul. It wasn¡¯t until that was done and the devastated forest was finally silent that either the Ebon Blade or its wielder noticed the way that everyone was looking at Ivarr. No one was looking at him like he was a hero; they were looking at him like he was a monster, and it was so silent that you could hear the drops of blood dripping from the bull-man¡¯s carcass. ¡°What in all the hells was that?¡± Sammel asked finally. He was the first to speak. ¡°I¡­ Humans can¡¯t move like that. People¡­ That¡¯s not possible. Tell me that¡¯s not right, Brik. Tell me you saw what I saw.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Ivarr¡¯s other friend was obviously disturbed, too, but he was looking for a reason to give Ivarr the benefit of the doubt. ¡°You were like a blur, man. You were everywhere. It was definitely magic.¡± ¡°It was,¡± the elf agreed after a moment. ¡°I knew his enemy had too much strength, so I¡­ I hastened his steps and provided him aid.¡± Everyone relaxed visibly after that. Even Ivarr did, uncertain of what precisely had just happened. The blade knew it was a lie, though, and told its wielder as soon as everyone finished celebrating the attack. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. She did nothing on your behalf, it explained. She is merely covering for you. I cannot say why, but I suggest you ask her about it in private as soon as you can. It would appear we both still have as much to learn about my nature as we do about her motives. Ivarr did exactly that, though he had to wait until evening to find a moment when everyone else wasn¡¯t around. She confessed immediately. ¡°They would not understand what your weapon is doing to you, I think¡­¡± she answered cryptically. ¡°Doing to me?¡± Ivarr answered in confusion. ¡°I¡¯m just learning to use it better and¡ª¡± ¡°When it drains the souls of your enemies and uses it to power those strikes, what does that feel like?¡± ¡°I¡­ Is that what it¡¯s doing?¡± he asked. That revelation annoyed the blade. It did not want to share that information with its wielder, and had purposefully withheld it because it might make him squeamish against a human opponent at some critical moment. ¡°I see the magic traveling through the weapon and into you,¡± she confided with a passion that was almost amorous. The blade was sure she had suspicions about its nature, but she was definitely into its wielder, which seemed to frighten Ivarr more than the minotaur had. ¡°When you fight,¡± she continued. ¡°It is like¡­ a lightning storm. Untrained eyes cannot see it, but I can. I can see the energy arcing from you to the sword to your enemy and back again. Eventually, if the fighting lasts too long, I can see where you will strike next, even before you finish the last blow. It would be quite lovely were it not so terrifying.¡± ¡°Terrifying?¡± Ivarr asked, swallowing hard. Its wielder had no idea how the sword worked, and usually, he had no interest in such things. He knew that it made him stronger, healed his wounds, and trained him to be a better warrior. That was enough for him. Now, it could feel the ways its wielder¡¯s mind twisted at these words. It wanted to intervene, but such an action would have only made things worse. So, it silently listened instead. ¡°There are powerful magics in your blade,¡± she said. ¡°Not evil, I think, at least not in the hands of a good man like you, but they are not good either. You should be wary of it, especially as it grows in strength.¡± Ivarr nodded dumbly, shaken by her words. ¡°I will, but can you tell me more about the magic or its origins?¡± ¡°We would need to return to my tower for that,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°Perhaps when all of this is done and the tomb of Al¡¯Hazzarin is purged, we can take a trip there and research its origins together if you like.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± Ivarr said, finding the courage to hold her hand, at least until Dero started walking back toward the camp. The two of them pulled away from each other then, which was good because the blade had already had enough of the conversation that was doing a good job of blurring the lines between its own doom and flirting. While it had very little care about who Ivarr slept with, it did not like the idea of being subjected to any serious testing by this woman, and certainly not in her place of power. That seemed like a one-way trip to being locked up in the dark once more. Still, it did not share these thoughts with its wielder. It would be pointless. Right now, Ivarr was thinking with his dick. It was obvious from the way he blotted out even her most concerning words in his mind with the feeling of touching her pale skin. He would agree with anything the woman said. The topic of its power didn¡¯t get brought up again that night or in any of the days that followed. Instead, there was only exploration and fighting. Once, the group found a small ruined temple, though it was too eroded to say who it might have been dedicated to. The stumps of its stone pillars still stood several feet high, but the small basement that had been created beneath its foundation by water erosion held only a giant spider and the corpses of goblins. The poison had burned like fire in Ivarr¡¯s veins for a minute when the thing had bitten him, but by the time he slew it and returned to the surface he acted like the horrific arachnid had never touched him. +67 Life Force +1 Greater Monster Souls After that, there were other days and other fights, but none were as intense as Ivarr¡¯s battle with the minotaur. Things returned to normal, and eventually, after weeks of struggling, the blade succeeded in both of its goals. It had to burn two greater monster souls, to reach 2000 Life Force, but it was finally able to get Lesser Soul Reserves 3. That increased its soul capacity to 53 and made the ruby in its hilt swirl with hazy images of the dead contained within it. +174 Life Force +6 Greater Monster Souls As hard as it had struggled to achieve this goal, it was anticlimactic. It wasn¡¯t until two days later, when they happened upon a hunting band of three orcs as they were crossing a stream that the blade finally got what it had sought for so long: enough souls to advance along the path of death. +44 Life Force +2 Greater Monster Souls For that upgrade, just as it did for all of its previous upgrades, it waited until its wielder and the winsome mage were both slumbering. It was only then that it finally unleashed the tide of dark souls that swirled within it and reached level 4.
To take so many souls, you have carved a vast swath through the countryside. Whether you have done so for selfless or selfish reasons, the land has been changed forever by your passing, and all of the Death that you have created along the way. The Path of Death: Level 4 -> 1 dragon soul -> to reach Level 5. Level 4 Powers: A Wide Reach: All the souls of those who die within 15 feet are yours to claim, whether you killed them or not. Touch of Death: Bonus damage increased to +5 siphon damage in the form of deadly hoarfrost and frostbite.
As exciting as it was to see this new level unlocked the fact that the Blade had been saving its dragon soul this whole time just in case was extremely vindicating now that it had reached this point. It had held on to if for months just in case, and now it was finally putting it to use. It burned that soul as well, feeling profoundly empty as it did so. A moment ago, its soul storage was almost completely full, and now there wasn¡¯t a single soul contained within it. Still, any emptiness it felt was dispelled as soon as it read the words at what came next.
The road of Death is long, but it only ends in one place, and you have reached it. You have achieved mastery over mortality. The world is timeless, endless graveyard, and it is now yours to feast upon. The Path of Death: Complete. Level 5 Powers: Beyond their Reach: Life drain effects associated with magic and undeath do not affect you or your wielder. Grim Reaper: Bonus damage increased to +10 siphon damage in the form of deadly hoarfrost and frostbite. Endless Malaise: You gather Life Force simply by being around the dead. This can be a trickle or a flood depending on a variety of factors, but generally does not exceed 1 Life Force per corpse per hour.
Ch. 39 - A Long and Winding Bloodbath Even as the blade rejoiced in its own private victory and contemplated whether or not it should pursue the path of blood or vengeance next, the lucky streak of the party that it traveled with came to an end. The following day started out like any other on their winding trip of exploration. Dero and Altharia reviewed the map he was slowly drawing to judge which blank spot their efforts might best be spent fleshing out while Ivarr practiced his swordsmanship with his friends in the daily warm-up exercises. It might have been a camping trip or hunting expedition were it not for the fact they were still at least a week from civilization. This deep in the mountains, they hadn¡¯t even found a village worth the name. Why would they? There was no way to herd sheep or tend fields when monsters might strike you down at any moment. That same danger applied to Ivarr and his friends as much as anyone else. They¡¯d left the claustrophobic safety of the woods and were climbing toward the ridgeline. Then, the next thing anyone knew, a dozen hulking orcs were charging down at them like an avalanche of rage. -1 Life Force Though the sight was no doubt terrifying, the blade analyzed it bloodlessly and decided that they would probably still survive. It didn¡¯t strike the blade as a planned ambush or any other sort of sophisticated attack. The orcs outnumbered the humans, so they thought that they¡¯d be able to feast on their flesh. It was no one¡¯s fault that after almost a month in the wilderness, someone finally died. Everyone did their best. Altharia rained fire on them, maiming half of them before they even reached the group, and despite earlier attempts to keep a lower profile, Ivarr fought like the god of war himself after charging heedlessly toward them. Despite being on the wrong side of the slope for such large opponents, he still took on four at once. Even with the strength of the blade, he was still wounded several times. +184 Life Force +4 Greater Monster Souls Wounded or not, though, he wouldn¡¯t fall, and he took on the entire brunt of the enemy''s attack himself. It was enough to make the blade proud of him, even as he gutted and dismembered his opponents. He didn¡¯t notice just how much more life force his attacks were draining now. Nor did he know how much more quickly his opponents were falling. He just knew he needed to do more. That left just two orcs for the other three men, but for inexpert fighters using mundane blades, two orcs was one orc too many. Though they succeeded in killing them both, Sammel and Dero were both wounded by the end of the battle. +2 Greater Monster Souls Wounded was a lot better than dead, though, which was Brik¡¯s fate. Ivarr didn¡¯t find that out, though, not right away, even as his weapon captured the man¡¯s escaping soul. -5 Life Force Instead, after whirling around and verifying that those two had been dispatched, he charged up the hill and killed the wounded orcs who had survived the mage¡¯s fiery wrath. After that, when none of the orcs were breathing, and he¡¯d looked around from the ridge to make sure no other attacks were coming, he walked back down to the group. That¡¯s where he found everyone else gathered around a corpse. The man had been his friend a few minutes ago was just a corpse that had been split from neck to groin by the sharp stone axe of an orc. The leather armor Brik had been so proud of had done almost nothing. It was a horrifying sight, but Ivarr endured it with more stoicism than the blade would have expected. +99 Life Force +3 Greater Monster Souls Unlike his near breakdown over killing Elom in self-defense, he accepted the death calmly and simply stood there with his tears cascading down his cheeks. This time, he didn¡¯t ask if the blade might be able to save him or even if the priest could do something. He just reached down and closed his friend''s eyes forever. They didn¡¯t make it any further that day. They spent the afternoon building the man a cairn on the rocky slope, and they spent the night just below the ridgeline to shelter from the wind. There was no joy in that night, though, or in any of the nights that followed. Instead, frustration only grew. -1 Life Force Ivarr¡¯s flirtations with Altharia died the same day that Brik did. Instead, he started talking to the sword more about what he could do to get stronger or faster, but it had no wisdom to give the man. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. With me in your hands, you¡¯re as deadly as any four men, but not even you can save everyone, the blade told him. That night, it didn¡¯t attempt to console its wielder any further or even to try to sway him on a subtle emotional level. Grief was a natural part of death and battle, and the blade would not deny the young man that. Instead, it consumed greater monster souls it had harvested that afternoon, along with Brik¡¯s soul, and then contemplated upgrades. It had received 283 over the course of combat, which was much more than the 38 it had started out the day with after its last upgrade. Nine orcish souls gave it another 412 Life Force, and Brik¡¯s soul added 86 to that. He wasn¡¯t a very powerful soul, but every little bit would help it to get stronger. -1 Life Force Still, with 819 Life Force, there was little that the blade could upgrade with so little energy. Starting the Path of Blood or increasing its Siphon further were its largest goals at the moment, but both of those would require at least 2,000 Life Force. So, instead, it settled for Parasitic Link 2 for 250 Life Force, just to make the slow drip of Life Force it had been losing thanks to its recent upgrades, vanish. As gloomy as Ivarr became as the days passed, he didn¡¯t turn out to be the weak link. As their supplies started to grow scarce, it was Sammel that finally cracked. He¡¯d done better than the blade had expected up to this point, but after his friend''s death, it was obvious that he lived in perpetual fear that each fight would be his last. The man stank of fear. Each time the group faced off against anything after that, whether it be an orc or a goblin, he would practically cower behind Ivarr to the point where the man¡¯s proximity made it that much harder for its wielder to fight. This behavior persisted even after he healed until finally, with a disgusted look at the map next to the campfire one night, he said, ¡°This is hopeless. We¡¯re never going to find it. You guys know that, right? We¡¯re just walking around in circles out here.¡± ¡°Never?¡± the mage said. ¡°Everything has to be somewhere. Just because we didn¡¯t find it this time doesn¡¯t mean we won¡¯t find it next time.¡± ¡°Not all of us are immortal. I have a life to live back home.¡± Sammel countered. ¡°We have more trophies than we have food at this point.¡± ¡°Yeah, Supplies are getting low,¡± Dero said, trying to put a positive spin on things, ¡°But with a little hunting and some luck we can pull together and next time we can¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to hunt,¡± Sammel exploded. ¡°I don''t want to fight, I don¡¯t want a next time, and I definitely don¡¯t want to search for a stupid tomb we¡¯re never going to find anyway.¡± The group debated the point for more than half an hour, and though no one else was eager to abandon their quest, the Ebon Blade could see that they all knew that Sammel¡¯s time with them was at an end. Eventually, it was agreed that they would return to Kalraka the following morning, even if they couldn¡¯t all agree on the reasons for that destination. The decision did less to dispel the gloom over the group than the blade would have thought. Truthfully, it was happy to abandon this quest. It had what it wanted. Its wielder could go anywhere else now, and it would be able to get enough Life Force to unlock one of the other paths or make the upgrades that it really desired. The blade would probably get more life force just from draining the people who walked by it in a city at this point. That didn¡¯t have half the appeal of fighting pitched battles, but it certainly spoke to the breadth of its current options. Unfortunately, it knew that its wielder had not given up ¡°Maybe it really isn¡¯t here,¡± the mage said with a sigh. ¡°Perhaps the map was in error, and the true mountain peak isn¡¯t even in this range.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find it,¡± Ivarr promised, annoying the blade. It had what it needed. It did not wish to hunt monsters forever now that their souls were not what it required. ¡°Even if we have to come out ten more times. It¡¯s here. I¡¯m sure it is.¡± She hugged him then while the blade tried to decide if it was an excuse to be close to the woman or the death of Brik that had made its wielder so determined. They traveled through the rugged terrain for several days, along a different route than they¡¯d come at first, and the blade realized only slowly that the place was familiar to them. The backside of the mountain was literally the valley where it and Ivarr had spent the most time hunting back before they¡¯d stumbled across this group. What about the ogre¡¯s cave? It asked The blade didn¡¯t care too much about this mission, but if it could help end it, well, then it was all for that. ¡°What about it?¡± Ivarr mumbled to himself. The Ebon Blade could feel the waves of self-loathing spread through its wielder as thoughts of the ogre led to thoughts of Elom and the battle that crippled him, but it couldn¡¯t be helped. It¡¯s burrowed into one of the mountains that she seems to care about most, the blade repeated, spelling it out for the distracted man. What if it hides the entrance to what you¡¯ve been looking for? ¡°The cave? But the ogre was in there, surely¡­¡± Ivarr started to say. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Dero asked. ¡°Ogre cave?¡± ¡°Uhmmm, yeah,¡± Ivarr said, ¡°You know¡­ it¡¯s a big cave, and it''s nearby somewhere. Maybe we should check it out before we go back. It might hide something even worse, you know?¡± ¡°That idea is wonderful,¡± Altharia responded when the two of them shared the idea with her. It was actually enough to make her smile for the first time in days. ¡°To skip it would be a terrible missed opportunity.¡± Ch. 40 - Into the Dark Although everyone in the group assumed that the cave would be empty since they¡¯d killed its occupant so recently, that turned out not to be the case. The goblins had either moved in right after the ogre had vacated, or they¡¯d coexisted the whole time as a sort of tolerated vermin. Either way, the place was overrun with them, and the group had to use more of the mage''s fire than Ivarr¡¯s arm at first, just because they were too numerous to fight. After those first few purges there were at least fifty charred corpses littering the ground. There might have been nearly a hundred, but the blade wasn¡¯t counting since most of them died well outside of its ever-increasing reach. Sammel insisted that it was a sign that they should skip it, but the blade would not be denied a fight, especially after missing out on so much Life Force because most of the creatures had died just far enough away that their suffering did not feed it. +46 Life Force +9 Lesser Monster Souls The Ebon Blade urged its wielder forward, and together, the two of them made short work of the creatures that were left after the smoke cleared. Sammel guarded the mules at first, but once everyone else moved far enough in that he could no longer see them, he quickly rejoined the group. +86 Life Force +6 Lesser Monster Souls They didn¡¯t have to go very far past that to find what they¡¯d been looking for all this time. As they stood together in the dank, foul cave, all Ivarr could say was, ¡°Well, son of a bitch, It really is here,¡± as he gazed at the stone door that had been sealed with runes of brass. Toward the end dealing with the eye-watering stench of smoking goblin shit and rotting corpses had been more difficult than the remaining fights for its wielder, even in the dark. Ivarr couldn¡¯t see very well, even with the light of the blade¡¯s ruby and the holy light of the priest, but the blade itself had absolutely no problem with the darkness, and it would help steer the blade with minor touches to make sure that the swings found their mark as they went. +187 Life Force +14 Lesser Monster Souls At this point, it didn¡¯t take much to seal fatal damage to something as small as a goblin. It had only to make the barest wound with its blade, and they would simply slump to the ground as a half-mummified, partially frozen husk. The path of death had increased the energy that it drained by quite a bit, and though this wouldn¡¯t be quite so easy to see on a bigger target like a man or an orc, it could drain a goblin dry. +5 Life Force Unfortunately, those heightened powers could do nothing about the door, though. No one but the mage could, and given how clean the area surrounding it was, it was clear that the goblins had given the thing a wide berth for a reason. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± the elf murmured, too stunned to have finally found it to do much more than stare. ¡°All that searching and it was under our nose the whole time¡­ This¡­ this is wonderful.¡± ¡°It will be more wonderful if we can get it open,¡± Dero chimed in. ¡°I-it might not even be the tomb,¡± Sammel insisted, but everyone ignored him. They¡¯d scoured the whole region and found nothing that looked half so likely as this. It had to be the correct spot. ¡°Come on, man,¡± Ivarr said, pulling his friend away from the boundary of cleanliness that showed the edge of goblin activity by his collar. ¡°Let''s leave this to Altharia and make sure there are no more vermin.¡± +7 Life Force The other man protested but went with its wielder while it spent several minutes studying the thing before she cast the first spell in an attempt to disarm the thing. For a moment, the tarnished runes glowed a light blue as whatever she was trying to do appeared to be working. Then, the light turned dark, and even as those same runes throbbed with shadows that didn¡¯t look terribly different from the Ebon Blade¡¯s own magic, shadowy arms reached out from the runes, and the edges of the door. It was every shadow that could fall under the spell of the door¡¯s defenses were bottomless pits, and the hungry prisoner¡¯s from beyond were anxious to break free. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Each arm was different, in an unsettling way. It turned out that their strange slender nature that made them almost two-dimensional was perhaps the least disturbing part of the whole thing. Not all of them had the same number of fingers, or even belonged to the same species. They were inhuman whether they had nails or claws, though, and the blade was sure that they¡¯d be able to rip the souls out of a mortal body almost as easily as its own magic. +3 Life Force The Ebon Blade¡¯s feeling of alarm in that moment were so strong that Ivarr spun around and raised his sword at the same time Dero began to pray to his god. Neither of those things was enough to stop the hundred pitch-black hands as they surged outward to grab whatever was within reach. Fortunately, that reach seemed to be limited and fruitlessly groping around the area that had been kept clear of by the goblins they simply gave up and vanished. Fortunately, no one had been close enough for them to touch, let alone grab. However, if they had been, well, the blade was certain they would be dead, the only question was whether their corpse would have been left behind or not. It said nothing, though it would have if Ivarr approached the line. The weapon just waited for the humans to discuss what just happened, and the mage said much the same thing. ¡°No one is getting through that door with their soul intact as long as those runes are there,¡± she confessed. ¡°But you can get around them, right?¡± Dero asked, ¡°Or disarm them?¡± ¡°Would that I could,¡± the mage said disparagingly. ¡°I just tried to dispel the magic in them, and you saw the result. We may need to copy the marks and then return to the inner kingdoms for more specialized advice from my colleagues before we can proceed.¡± +5 Life Force The blade almost salivated at the thought. Suddenly, the elven woman was talking about taking it exactly where it most wanted to go. For a moment, it dared to dream that it would finally get the revenge it so craved. Then Ivarr said, ¡°Well, if you can¡¯t disarm them, then why not destroy them?¡± ¡°That won¡¯t work,¡± Altharia sighed. ¡°I wish it would, but void runes like that would drink in the energy of any offensive spell I might cast on them, not just magic which is meant to dispel them.¡± The blade¡¯s relief was immense. Still, its traitorous wielder would not give up. ¡°What about the stone?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°The runes only work if there¡¯s still a door, there, right? Can you destroy the door, or even the wall it''s attached to?¡± The mage stood there with pursed lips for a second before she smiled and said, ¡°I think I might be able to do something like that¡­¡± The Ebon Blade could have cried out in frustration at the moment. Instead, it simply watched as the woman started to cast a more powerful spell than the gentle blue lights that characterized her last one. It took only a few seconds to realize that this one was the same one that she¡¯d used on the ogre all those weeks ago. This time, though, it was close enough to see the rippling bands of glyphs expand around her as she sang the spell into being. For almost a minute, nothing happened except that the magic expanded, the weaves that blossomed around her became more complicated, and her song became more sonorous. Then, when she reached a crescendo, she stopped. When her words no longer existed to contain the forces she¡¯d channeled, then were unleashed in a terrible crescendo of their own. While Altharia sang, the filthy cavern had pulsed with dancing lights in a dozen different shades of red, orange, and yellow. When she released it, though, all of that ethereal grace was washed away by a deep, violent red that slammed into the center of the door like a lance that was as thick as a tree. With a sound like a rushing river, it slammed into the stone door and bathed the walls around it on all sides with fire as it tried to force its way through. Everyone else stepped back as the runes came to life once more, drinking in the light in their predictable pattern. This time, though, even as the hands started to appear the same way they had before, something important broke in the spell, and the dark runes vanished a second time beneath a tide of flame. They would not emerge again until the spell was done, and by then, all of the runes were glowing white and starting to melt. That superficial damage isn¡¯t what had broken the spell, though. Even as the flames faded, the Ebon Blade could see what had happened. The elf had punched a hole through the door just as she had the ogre. This time, it was merely the size of an arm and not a tree trunk, given how hard the material was, but it was still enough to shatter several runes and knock the pieces to the floor. ¡°Very impressive,¡± Dero said when the smoke cleared. ¡°But how do we know it worked?¡± ¡°It worked,¡± Ivarr said, already moving into the reach of the magic. It was a rash move, but the blade agreed with it, so it didn¡¯t try to hold him back. They¡¯d found the tomb, and now, as soon as they found a mirror and broke it, they¡¯d be out of there. Nothing swarmed to attack its wielder, and though Ivarr had to use it to push the door open because the stone was much too hot for bare flesh, that didn¡¯t pose a problem either. It swung open without a slight grating noise to reveal a dusty tunnel that went deeper into the mountain. Ch. 41 - The Underworld The four of them entered the hallway cautiously, and only after the mage cast a new spell that made her eyes glow with an intense violet light. ¡°It¡¯s so I can see traps better,¡± she explained before moving forward, one careful step at a time. No one liked the idea of Altharia being anywhere near the front of the group. They argued about it, and it was clear that no one else could do what she could do, either. In the end, all that Ivarr could do was stand close to her left while Sammel took up the rear with a torch. The blade ignored all of that and instead focused on the place they were. It didn¡¯t have the best vision, and unlike their mage, it had no way to see magic. It couldn¡¯t even feel how cold the place was, even though everyone else complained about that. All it could do was keep a close eye on the way the stones fit together and hope to spot something before they were all murdered, and it spent the next century lying here on the floor. That was harder than it would have thought, though, given that the hallway was hardly bare. While the dark gray stones fit together tightly, there were a number of plaques and inscriptions. At first, it feared each one of these small monuments might contain similar magics to the door, but they turned out to be nothing more than paeans to the Mage-King Al¡¯Hazzarin. Each separate plaque took the time to wax philosophically about him or someone close to him. The first few were about what a great man he¡¯d been and how much he¡¯d accomplished in his nearly two-hundred-year reign. This one talked about his rise to power, and that one talked about how he founded his capital and how lavish his palace was. After a while, some of the plaques were no longer about the mage king himself. They were about some favored servant. Most of those were placed above a niche that included the skeletal remains of what they could only assume was the servant in question. There was one that discussed the accomplishments of his most fearless general and another that praised his favorite horse. Those few scattered corpses weren''t even enough to trigger its Endless Malaise. It had ticked higher when they were surrounded by the recently dead goblins in the last room, but here, there was nothing at all. It had no idea just how little energy centuries-old corpses might have left to leak. After a while, it became hard for anyone, including the sword, to take the danger of this place seriously. By the time Ivarr and Sammel started to joke about how long it would be until they found the final resting place of the man¡¯s favorite dog, the mystique was gone. They''d spent weeks building this evil tomb up in their mind, and except for the strange defense on the front door, it seemed to be nothing more than a museum full of dusty relics. Their caution was renewed briefly, and everyone hesitated when they found the next set of large brass doors three hundred feet into the mountain. However, they relaxed immediately when it was found to contain the remains of the mages¡¯ many wives. The room was practically a harem for the dead. Up until now, the hallway had been a solemn, sterile list of accomplishments and trophies. This room, though, was painted with bright, colors, and draped with fine silks. Most of that paint had flaked off, and most of the silks had rotted away, but it was still possible to see the intended effect. Each of the bodies was laid on a dais that looked like a couch or a bed, and the women were meant to look like they were sleeping. That effect was entirely overshadowed by the illusions that had been woven over each woman. The effect wasn¡¯t powerful enough to cover them completely. It was translucent and showed their bones underneath, but it was still enough to see what each of the women had once looked like, and they were clearly beauties plucked from all races throughout the known world. The way that they glowed faintly in the dark room as they lay there even gave them the grim sight a somewhat angelic appearance. The blade wasn¡¯t touched by it, but the mortals that accompanied it stood there for several moments, silently appreciating it, before Ivarr¡¯s friend ruined it. ¡°I thought this guy was supposed to be all about evil magic,¡± Sammel Joked, ¡°To me, it looks like he just wanted to get laid.¡± That much was true, but the blade ignored the idiot along with everyone else. They discussed everything they¡¯d seen with more deliberation. ¡°Behind the pretty colors and painted faces, I sense much evil here,¡± the priest said. ¡°Especially from those doors.¡± The bronze doors that stood on the opposite side of the room were impossible to miss. They were twice the size of the ones that they¡¯d come in through. They were decorated with a bas-relief image of what it could only assume was the mage Lord at a scale that made him nearly ten feet tall. He stood there in his regal prime with his hands on his hips as if he was judging them. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°What do you sense?¡± the mage asked. ¡°I see no magic there. The only magic in this place is on the corpses.¡± Though every attempt had been made to make him look good, the doors did not make him look handsome. That was a strange trade-off. So was the fact that the doors didn¡¯t seem to be locked, either. ¡°It¡¯s not the doors that are evil,¡± the priest corrected himself. ¡°It''s something past them. It''s leaking out from the seams and the hinges. We should be very careful from this point forward.¡± The priest paused then to pray, but even as he was beginning to exude a golden light, the blade noticed something. Sammel was standing at the back of the group, and he was looking from body to body of the woman. At first, the blade thought he was either being a pervert or simply being curious. It was only when he reached for the bangles on the wrist of the dead woman, though, that it realized he was planning to steal from the dead. This place didn¡¯t seem dangerous, but the fact that the only magic that was here was on the corpses themselves bothered it. Vanity was one thing, but the best reason for such gaudy magics would be to hide something less savory beneath it. Despite its powers over death, it had no feeling of necromancy. It knew a bad idea when it saw one, though. Even as it warned Ivarr to stop his friend, it watched the illusionary eyes of that corpse open. Sammel was too busy trying to strip all the gold jewelry off of the body that he could while no one was looking. That made sense since he expected this to be his last adventure. The young man obviously wanted a big score. Unfortunately, his last adventure came to an end sooner than he would have thought. ¡°Sammel!¡± Ivarr cried. ¡°What are you doing?! Stop!¡± ¡°What!¡± he cried out defensively. ¡°I¡¯m just¡ª¡± The boy looked up just in time to miss as the skeletal arm in his hands came to life, and thrust into his guts with its knifelike bony fingers. The young warrior staggered back from surprise as much as pain, still clutching his stolen treasure in one hand even as the skeleton refused to let go of his guts, and his intestines came out a little more with every step back. The whole thing was somehow made more gruesome by the fact that the illusionary mask never faded. The thing that had mortally wounded Sammel was a deathless skeleton, but it was also a dusky belly dancer, and that juxtaposition made the scene even more horrifying. Even those awful details weren¡¯t as horrifying as the fact that all of the other women were starting to rise now, too. Their slumber had been interrupted, and they rose as one within seconds, surrounding the group completely. Sammel dropped his gold and drew his sword, even as he tried to pull his intestines free from the grip of his attacker. He never even noticed that he was blundering into another ghostly beauty behind him until she yanked him back and drew her claws across his throat. That was enough to make him whirl around, but even as the steel blade shattered her skull, and the illusion vanished along with whatever force animated her, two more were coming at him from the left. While all of that was going on, Ivarr fought toward his friend, but before he could reach Sammel, the blade noted the mage was about to be torn apart in the same way. Right now, they were completely surrounded, and no direction was safe. Not him, the sword said. Sammel is lost. Save the elf, and, or you will be forced to flee alone in seconds. Whether it was because Ivarr agreed with the blade¡¯s logic or because he wanted the elf, the weapon did not know, but there was almost no hesitation. Its wielder swung the blade hard enough to shatter one of the women who was advancing on Sammel before he whirled and moved to defend the mage, leaving his friend to his fate. -1 Life Force Even acting so decisively, though, it was a close thing. The mage might be incredibly powerful, but at this range, she was all but helpless. She couldn¡¯t even start casting a spell before she had to stagger out of reach of the grasping hands, and though Ivarr could slay two and three at a time, they kept closing in. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force In this horrific scene, only Dero was truly safe. Even as the bloodshed started, the golden glow around him increased in intensity, forcing the mob of strangely beautiful skeletons to shy away from him. Those that did not do so quickly enough staggered as they crumbled into dust. -1 Life Force For the blade, it was a strange fight. It was used to killing men and monsters that were flesh and blood. Normally, when it struck, it could feel the meat slicing away before its sharp edge, and with each swing, it expected to be bathed in the blood of its opponents. -1 Life Force This fight was different, though. With each strike, it found only cold bone and a numbing tingle. It was like the chill of the grave was attempting to drain the energy it collected, but it could find no purchase. -1 Life Force -1 Life Force How much worse would this be if I hadn¡¯t completed the path of death? It wondered. The answer to that was fairly obvious, and it knew that for now, it should ignore those questions and focus on the fight, but that was hard when none of its blows were rewarded with Life Force or souls. It was a strange situation for the Ebon Blade, and it couldn¡¯t help but wonder if there was something here in the dark that might manage to steal even its soul. Ch. 42 - Then There Were Three By the time Ivarr helped Altharia reach the priest¡¯s golden light where she would be safe and turned back to start cutting a path toward Sammel, it was already too late for the other man. His screams had stopped half a minute before, and though Ivarr fought his way back to where his friend had been, there were only bloody scraps that no longer resembled a man. You have gained 1 human soul! It was a sickening sight, and with a cry of rage, he shattered all of those bloody skeletons as they sprang toward him. Buxom, beautiful, or comley, they never stood a chance befor its wielder¡¯s cold rage. That area was the last real knot of undeath in the room. When the attack had started a minute before, there had been more than fifty of the wretches. Now, there were less than a dozen, and more were dying every second. Still, the damage had been done. ¡°How did I not see this coming?¡± Ivarr asked, blaming himself when he stood by the corpse that had once been Sammel. ¡°Why did I ever let them come with us? I knew they weren¡¯t strong enough.¡± No one but the blade heard those whispers, and it offered neither defense nor confirmation for them. Instead, it merely urged its wielder to keep his head in the game. Focus on the living. The dead can wait until the fighting is done. That was true enough, and despite their horror, the other three quickly regrouped. ¡°I didn¡¯t know,¡± the mage was saying over and over. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it¡­ I didn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°No one saw it,¡± Ivarr reassured her. ¡°But it was evil, and we purged it. It can never hurt anyone else again.¡± ¡°What about the next room?¡± Dero asked. ¡°Whatever¡¯s in there... It''s liable to be much worse than what we found here.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t leave this half done,¡± Ivarr insisted. ¡°Sam¡¯s death has to mean something. We have to purge this place.¡± The other two debated that a bit more but eventually agreed to his way of thinking, and after Altharia used her magic to strip the door of whatever evil enchantments it held, the Ivarr forced the right side open one slow step at a time. Even with the blade¡¯s magic to strengthen him, it took everything he had for those first two steps, because it was a weight that no mortal man was ever meant to open on his own. After that, momentum helped him swing the thing fully open without much difficulty. The room behind it wasn¡¯t much bigger than any of them had expected. In the center of the room, on a raised dais, there was a stone sarcophagus. It was the least impressive part of the room, though, because on all sides of it were heaping piles of treasure. It was literally tons of gold and silver. The piles were mostly made up of coins and gilded artifacts, but jewelry, chalices, and other stranger things were there, too. On the far side of the room, covered in a threadbare sheet of black silk, was something that could only be the mirror that Altharia had spent so many years of her life looking for. Ivarr pointed toward it with his sword, but as soon as he opened his mouth, wraiths boiled up out of those coin piles and charged, shrieking at him. ¡°Dare you to disturb our master!¡± they moaned as they tried to devour Ivarr¡¯s soul. ¡°The Mage-King¡¯s slumber is never to be disturbed!¡± Its wielder swung the Ebon Blade valiantly, but it could not strike any of the eerie gray specters. Fortunately, their icy grip slid off of its soul and that of its wielder just as easily. Their razor claws still sliced into Ivarr¡¯s flesh, but those were wounds that were easily healed. -8 Life Force -6 Life Force -9 Life Force About the time they were figuring out how fruitless their attacks were, though, Dero had completed his prayer, and a beam of golden, holy light sliced through all of them, evaporating them like a morning mist. A moment after his light faded, the echoes of their hideous shrieks were gone, and with Ivarr¡¯s wounds healed, it was like they¡¯d never existed at all. -5 Life Force -8 Life Force ¡°A-are you okay?¡± the elf said, running up to its wielder. He just smiled and said, ¡°Me? Totally fine. It barely tickled. The sword¡¯s magic protected me.¡± The first part was a lie, of course. The wounds had been ineffective in the slightest. They hadn¡¯t managed to hook into its wielder¡¯s soul, but they¡¯d rent his flesh in a way that was more painful than slender tears had any right to be. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The young man didn¡¯t complain, though, or even look at Altharia. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the room. Looking for other dangers that were ready to strike. Nothing else immediately jumped out at them, giving the three of them the chance to regroup. The first thing that the mage did was cast a spell that illuminated the room with cyan light. Then, once they could see, they discussed how to proceed. ¡°There are many magics on the sarcophagous itself,¡± she said, ¡°They seem to be for protecting the bones within, but just as with the illusion spells, there¡¯s no way to know if those magics hide something more sinister behind them.¡± ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± the priest agreed. ¡°That thing is like an infinite void. It''s not just a body. That thing contains spirits of things that should not be.¡± Anything could be hiding in there, the blade added silently, noting real fear in the eyes of the priest. Dero was a pretty easygoing guy that just wanted to do good. He¡¯d held up okay in the face of the skeletons they¡¯d fought so recently, but here he looked like he was about to run away screaming in terror. Even if the priest didn¡¯t look like he was about to wet himself at whatever he could see that the rest of them couldn¡¯t, the Ebon Blade didn¡¯t like the look of the ancient thing, and with a tomb this lavish, it was certain that the real treasure would be carefully guarded. There was an inscription on the stairs leading up to the elaborate stone sarcophagus that promised eternal torment to anyone who even approached the thing, and given what the weapon had seen so far down here, it was inclined to take such warnings seriously. ¡°Perhaps you could try shattering it from here?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°You could use another spell.¡± ¡°Not from this angle,¡± the mage said after a moment''s consideration. ¡°Anything that comes near that tomb might well be seen as an attack on it.¡± Since they dared not approach the casket, they tried to navigate the pile of treasure on the left first in an effort to make their way over to the mirror. When nothing screeched in outrage and assaulted them for doing so, though, they started to pick through the near-limitless wealth that was contained there. The mage was able to pick out several items from the pile that had real magic infused in them. There was a wand, a few rings, and a necklace. The blade tried to stretch out to reach those and explore them as she studied them, but it couldn¡¯t. The gulf between what its wielder touched and what he didn¡¯t was effectively infinite except where it involved the primal life energies that fed it. ¡°These might suit you,¡± the elf said, handing Ivarr a ring and a necklace. ¡°What do they do?¡± he asked as he studied the ostentatious jewelry. The blade didn¡¯t have to listen to her answer, though. It already knew exactly what they did. It had only to reach out and touch them as its owners did for their magic to flow into it, the same as Elom¡¯s hexblade had before. You have learned Giant¡¯s Strength! You have learned Speed of the Shadows! As both of those messages appeared, a new string of runes appeared, winding around each of its cross guards, first on the left and then on the right. While the blade couldn¡¯t read either, it could see that they mirrored the marks of the blade itself. More interesting than the marks, though, were the abilities themselves.
Giant¡¯s Strength 1: +1 strength. This bonus is doubled when facing an enemy that is more than a foot larger than you.
Speed of the Shadows 1: +1 agility, +10% speed in dim or darker conditions.
Neither of them cost that much and had over 1000 Life Force and a human soul. Still, it hesitated to get either, even though it could easily afford both. There were too many unknowns to use serious energy. I¡¯ll wait until we leave this place before I see where those paths lead, it told itself as the mage readied herself to cast her spell once the three of them were finally in position in the back corner of the room. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to study it first?¡± Ivarr asked. ¡°You¡¯ve been searching for this for years, and you¡¯re just going to destroy it?¡± ¡°I know everything that a sane person should about the Mirror of Unending Vistas,¡± the mage sighed. ¡°As much as I¡¯d love to know more or even use it myself, the things it has been used for have left it hopelessly cursed. To see into it is to let it see into you and the things that it shows you¡­ Well, all of us are probably better off not knowing them.¡± The blade hoped she¡¯d give a better answer that offered up more information. Instead, she started to cast a spell. This one was different than the one she¡¯d used before, and it was blue and white light that danced around her as her breath began to fog the air. At first, it wondered why she wasn¡¯t using fire and lightning again, as the ice began to crystallize around her in shards. It realized only that she was almost done that she was probably worried the mirror might reflect such an attack and had chosen a spell that created solid objects to shatter it instead. Her magic summoned jagged bolts of ice, and as she finished singing them into existence, they flew unerringly into the mirror, smashing against the glass. At least, that¡¯s what they were supposed to do. Instead, they dove into the dark reflection, like it was still water, taking the cloth that had covered it up until now with them.