Chương 160: One Last Thing

The Ebon Blade paced through the city like a caged animal in the days leading up to its attack. While it had spent days before that trying to learn what it could about the Penitant, those efforts had been fruitless. I didn't expect anything else, though, the weapon thought, sighing internally. It had pored through the documents that had been filed almost randomly throughout the city's library for months now, and it had discovered almost nothing that referred to the city or its ruler in all that time.

The words that had been archived were about the conditions under which those who had died had ended up here. As such, it wasn't very relevant to them. It was to the blade, though, and as the time grew closer to its planned attack, it considered killing the souls that lived here in order to quiz them instead. It resisted that, not because it would have been wrong to kill them for no reason, but because it risked tipping the blade's hand. It was sorely tempted by the idea.

It hadn't killed in months, and it wanted nothing more than to start again, but the weapon had no doubt that the ruler of this city had been observing it, even if there was no indication of that spying. So, if it had been murdering at random since it had arrived, that would have been one thing, but to hold back until now, well, the beggar king would have to be an idiot not to notice that change, and he clearly was no idiot.

Instead of murdering at random, the blade vowed to interrogate any of the guards who intervened early on in the fight. People would die in the crossfire of whatever happened next, and those people would know things. So, all that was left was for the blade to reflect on its brief battle with the demon prince. It pondered what it meant that the city erupted at the same time he died. That part didn't threaten it, of course, but the idea that it could rewind time so that the death blow was never struck?

That was dangerous. If he can undo the past, does that mean the Penitent can see the future as well? The sword wondered. That was the most important question, of course. Was it even possible to defeat an opponent if they knew the attack was about to happen? It was a good question, and everything hinged on it. The smarter move might have just been to leave, but the idea that it could have such a trump card? Well, even after all the powers it had absorbed, that was too much to pass up.

So, eventually, with no other reasons to delay, it walked back to the court of beggars, to face down the Penitent. The blade found the man almost exactly where he'd been before. The petitioners he was speaking to might have been different, but the scene hadn't changed at all. This time, the man didn't make him wait any longer than the first time, either, reassuring the Ebon Blade that he was no oracle. If he could see death coming, why would he linger? It asked itself.

"I see your time here has been fruitful," the beggar king asked as he stared at Warbringer with milky eyes.

"But truthfully, I had thought that you would leave us sooner."

"I needed to do more to prepare for the coming encounters than I'd thought," its mechanical wielder mouthed, speaking out loud for the first time in so long that its voice reeked of rust.

"Well, I hope your time spent reflecting on the past was fruitful," the old man answered.

"It is what the Last City is for, after all. I will send a messenger to ensure that the north gate opens for you so you can be on your way." The blade was tempted to strike without a word of warning as the man's head turned. To gesture to the boy he was sending. It would have been the smart thing to do, and yet it could not. It chafed at the weapons pride. Stealth had its place on the battlefield, but in a venue like this… it was no traitor; it needed no dishonesty to achieve its victories.

Instead, it drew itself and waited for the man to turn back before its wielder said, "There is just one more thing I must do before I depart."

"A pity," the Penitent rasped, "If you have learned so little here than perhaps you should not leave just yet."

"I don't suppose you'll be in any position to stop me," the blade countered as it strode forward, closing the gap between them one step at a time. Even as it seemed to move carelessly, though, it was studying the knots of magic that made up the man, trying to understand his powers and see what would happen next. Still, nothing happened. Not when it raised its blade, or when it brought it down again.

Now, power pulsed around the demon prince, or at least no more than usual, and neither he nor his guards made any attempt to defend him. This time, it didn't try to cleave the Beggar King in half. This time, it thrust the blade through his chest, pinning him to the stone as he tried to draw the man's soul out of him. Nothing happened, though. It didn't even see a trickle of Life Force before everything shifted.

One instant, the Penitent was sitting on the floor in a widening pool of blood, and smoke was starting to spill from the cracks in the floor, and the next, the Warbringer and the Ebon Blade were back where they had started. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The blade looked on the scene in disbelief, and as it did so, the Beggar King spoke.

"I allowed your first slight as a warning, and I hoped that you would learn some humility amongst the archives. I was in error then, and you are now. You will not be allowed to leave this city so easily now. I rescind my permission to depart and—" As he spoke, the blade flashed forward again. This time, the blade was already in hand, and it beheaded the demon prince in an instant, but before the man's head had even struck the ground, the events had been reset. He continued as if nothing had changed.

"You are not to leave here without understanding the error of your ways and a—" For its third attack, the blade used Bolt, appearing behind the demon prince after striking straight through his heart. As the attack landed, it used Hellfire, engulfing the sitting mad in the sickly yellow flames of oblivion, but even before the orange flames of the city's destruction could rise half as high, they were gone, and everything was as it had been. -120 Life Force.

"And an apology," the Penitant finished.

"To me, and the good people of this city that you are inconveniencing. Only after you have been forgiven will you be allowed to move on." The blade moved to attack him a fourth time as soon as he was done speaking, but by that point, he'd simply vanished, and the blade found itself back where it had started a final time. This turn of events frustrated the blade to no end. How?! It raged silently. How could it evade my attacks and just disappear?

The blade examined the room again, more thoroughly this time, looking over every stone for some trace of the magic that had been used. When it failed, it went outside and struck down the nearest person to repeat the process. If it could not have the Penitant's soul, then it would take everyone else's until it could. The damned soul of a merchant vanished like a soap bubble when the blade struck it, but no Life Force transferred, and no notification that it had gained a soul appeared either, deepening its suspicion.

The man didn't even taste like a soul, it realized belatedly. What trickery is this? It demanded. To be evaded by a demon prince is one thing, but can his power really extend over the whole city? The blade pressed forward, killing everyone who crossed its path, man, woman, and child. Sometimes guards required a second strike, but none required a third. When that didn't get enough of a reaction, it started striking out at buildings, severing pillars and making entire facades collapse, burying streets in rubble.

That was satisfying, but only in the smallest of ways, like a temper tantrum. So was the killing, but it was tasteless, and provided it no essence, which baffled the blade. Is the Penitent snatching their souls away before I can steal them like the gods of creation? It wondered, more than a little baffled by a problem that could not be solved with violence. A problem of my own creation, it was forced to admit sullenly as it stopped in the middle of a half-destroyed market.

Had I simply been on my way, I would have been halfway up the volcano by now. The power it was facing, though, wasn't exactly clear. It had thought it was dealing with some kind of time magic, but time seemed to have no bearing on what it was struggling with now, and that made it wonder. As it did, the blade noticed that its Life Force was still just shy of being completely full, which didn't make sense either. Didn't it rewind events one last time after I set it on fire? The weapon asked itself.

Shouldn't that have… A chill went through it as it realized something was desperately wrong. It cast out looking for a soul to siphon from, but its hunger found no target. That was when the blade kicked the Warbringer into gear and started running toward the nearest wall of the Last City. A moment ago, this place had been nothing but a punching bag waiting to be beaten into submission until it found the place's master once more. Now it was a bear trap, and the only question was if it had already been sprung.

As the blade approached the wall, the thing began to grow. This was an effect that it had expected, given how strange the rest of the city had been, and it was prepared for it. Instead of panicking, it sprang to the top of the nearest rooftop, and then from there it chose another and another. Each one was higher than the last, and by the time it reached the wall, it was already forty feet above the streets below.

Still, the wall stretched at least that far above it, and might move further, so the blade activated Amplify Wielder before it made the final leap over it. It was tempted to use Bolt too, to go higher still, but that didn't prove necessary. -25 Life Force. Unfortunately, it was only when the blade landed on the other side, leaving an impact crater in the street there, and found itself back in the city it had just left that it realized the truth. It wasn't going anywhere. It had never gone anywhere.

This wasn't time magic, but an illusion. -142 Life Force. In that moment, as it struggled to come to grips with the new reality, it reflected on the time that Ivarr and his companions had been held frozen in the grips of that evil mirror. Whatever magic it was that the Penitent truly had, it was very similar to that. That means I haven't moved since the fight, the blade realized, or maybe not even before that. Its mind froze in horror then as it realized something else.

The demon prince had stepped inside its soul effortlessly once already. What if it never left? It asked itself. What if it's still here right now? A shiver went through the blade then as it realized that it might be in more danger than it had ever realized.