Chương 81: At Last

Ch. 81 - At Last Ivarr! The blade screamed in Var'gar's head as the orc merely gazed at the nearest figures and growled. It had longed to kill this man. Other than the dangers ahead and its ultimate goal, the blade thought of little else besides what it wanted to do to him, and now, rather than having to hunt the man down, he'd appeared all on his own, ready for slaughter. -126 Life Force +14 Life Force I wonder if that elvish witch is one of those mages back there? The blade asked itself.

It was a good question, but not so good that it could tear its attention away from Ivarr. The smoke and wisps of black, death energy floated between them, but nothing could hide this man from him now, and the Ebon Blade took in every inch of him and his companions as it tried to balance threat awareness with its need for vengeance. All three had hexblades. That was the first thing that the blade noticed.

However, before it could study any other hints of danger, it noticed that the traitor had both of his hands, and it immediately fixated on that. The young man had lost his right hand but had it replaced with a pale facsimile that was so close to the real thing that… It is his hand, the blade whispered. The mage saved it, just as she said she would. In that moment, the blade vowed to itself that it would cut the thing off a second time.

-104 Life Force +13 Life Force There should be no such thing as a former wielder in its world. The blade existed to be used by one man or even a monster until they died in combat. Then, they were to be replaced by someone even stronger. The idea that a wielder would ever outlive or replace it was anathema to its very existence, and the idea that the man who had betrayed it could even hold another sword enraged it.

However, it didn't enrage it so much that it stopped studying the strange limb as its wielder staggered through the smoke and steam toward the group. Its former wielder's skin was tan, but only to the forearm. After that, it was deathly pale. There was an ugly scar where the two dissimilar colors of flesh met and a number of dark runes that appeared to have been tattooed on both sides of that scar. Perhaps I can nullify the magic that lets his defective limb even work, the blade growled at itself.

Wouldn't that be fitting? Though it enjoyed the idea of defeating him in combat, it enjoyed the idea of watching him fall, disarmed and useless even more. Its opponents were well-informed as to its nature, but it had learned a number of powers in the weeks since it had last been held by a man. It had almost as many surprises for them as they seemed to for it.

Their attempts to purge it from the world had been reasonable, and perhaps if they'd done so in the days before Stefan's Ford, they might have been successful. -94 Life Force +11 Life Force Now, though, they'd only given the blade a chance to feast. Even after the terrible crucible it had just endured, it still had 48/70 Souls and 8191/10, 600 Life Force. That was a formidable resource, but so too was the blind rage of its wielder, and as the hulking orc staggered forward, it picked up speed with every step.

It still wasn't anywhere near top form, but it was more monster than corpse now, and against only three warriors, that was all that it needed.

"Be careful," the older witchhunter shouted.

"That's the Black Blade, I'm certain, sure! Its as crafty as it is powerful!" Ebon Blade, the weapon spat silently. The blade did not intercede in Var'gar's first attack. It wanted them to think it weakened and perhaps even on the edge of death. So, it let the orc fumble and only planned to intercede when it saw a trick or an opening. At first, though, all it saw were all three men stepping back and spreading out. All three held swords at the ready, but none of them tried to parry.

-94 Life Force +11 Life Force That was wise, but still, the blade searched all three swords arrayed against it for some clue of what it might face. None of them looked like the hexblades that the previous witch hunters had wielded. They didn't have the dull gray metal or the familiar lusterless runes it had seen before. Instead, one glowed with black lines, while the other glowed with silver. Ivarr's was the brightest, though, and instead of flickering with fire or lightning, its runes glowed with sky-blue light.

The question wasn't if it should touch any of these blades because it would have to fight any kind of proper battle. It was which one it should touch first because while it could probably nullify their magics, doing so might open it up to nasty consequences at least once. At least the mages don't seem likely to help as long as I'm close to their allies, the blade thought, surveying the larger field of battle and deciding it was down to just the four of them.

Still, for now, it let its wielder hack and slash as each of its opponents moved back. It wasn't until they were surrounding it in a triangle that they finally struck. The blade watched all three of their weapons flash out in unison, and then it struck, shoulder-checking the black-sworded witch hunter while it parried the silver and moved away from Ivarr enough that his attack skittered off its wielder's ribs.

-122 Life Force +3 Life Force It was a solid strike, but it was already almost healed by the time the blade withdrew. What was more interesting, though, was what it found when its blade hammered down against the warrior with the silver hexblade. When that happened, its attack just stopped, like its orcish wielder had simply brought it gently to a stop. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

A feeling of vertigo went through the blade in that moment. One second, the orc was hammering the blade down with enough force to break the man's arm or send the blade flying, if not break it entirely, and the next, it felt like its disruptive magic was being reflected back upon it. You have connected to a Blade of Defense. You cannot learn Bulwark, Riposte, or Grace, as they are anathema to your nature. The blade didn't need to be told that. It recoiled immediately at what it found.

What had been cast on that weapon were armor enchantments in a different form. It was entirely defensive in nature. While the pop-up did not give the weapon a detailed breakdown of what the powers did exactly, it was easy enough to see. The man had robbed its blow of all its power and momentum.

The only question was if it had used Bulwark or— To answer that question, the slight warrior smiled and suddenly unleashed an attack far too fast and powerful for the man, splitting open the left side of Var'gar's rib cage and halfway gutting the orc. His response was immediate and instinctual. Even as he felt the sharp pain of the new wound momentarily overwhelm the dull pain of his still-healing burns, he lashed out with his left fist, catching the guy in the side of his helmet and sending him sprawling.

-238 Life Force +6 Life Force The blade had been planning to nullify that hexblade, for it could be irksome, but Var'gar's solution was even better. The man had been entirely focused on the weapon, and it had cost him. That strike left him with just Ivarr for the moment, and its wielder whirled on him. The strike was more about speed than strength, but even so, it was enough to send up a shower of sparks between the blades and force Ivarr to stagger back, creating an opening.

As it touched the blade, it felt its magic, but it ignored it for the moment and focused on the hand of its former wielder. You have connected to a Blade of Heroism. You already know Amplify Wielder. You already know Accelerate Wielder. You have learned Inspire! It had little interest in the fact that Ivarr was faster or stronger than normal. It knew that the moment that he hadn't been knocked away by Var'gar's first blow. Instead, it reached for his hand. You have connected to the enchantment Ghost Hand.

You cannot learn this ability, for you are meant to be held by and not to hold. Your alignment has moved slightly toward Necromancy. The blade ignored the message and instead used its own power to try disrupting it. -50 Life Force. Disrupted! The Ghost Hand's magic has been temporarily nullified! The blade smiled at that, watching the consternation on Ivarr's face as his right hand went boneless, and his blade dipped slightly now that it was held only in his left hand.

The blade enjoyed that moment of confusion so much that it would have smiled if it had been capable of it. It forced its wielder forward, pressing its advantage, and Ivarr retreated as their two hexblades ground against each other.

"The blade did something…" Ivarr shouted in a panic.

"My hand… It—" Before he could warn his fellows, the blade used Var'gar's body to lash out and kick the boy in the chest, sending him toppling back.

"Thisss endsss nowwww…" the Ebon Blade growled, forcing Var'gar's slack mouth and empty mind to form the words in the common tongue. There was nothing in that brain but rage and violence anymore, so he didn't resist. Still, the words came out more than a little clumsy, but no one was listening to Var'gar. -74 Life Force +9 Life Force A lightning bolt struck him from far off, staggering the orc for a moment, but the blade forced itself through it as its muscles continued to strengthen.

It reached Ivarr before the man had a chance to rise. He tried to scramble away, but he was no match for the orcish stride. -133 Life Force +12 Life Force In that moment, the blade brought itself down hard enough to split its old wielder in two. It didn't know what it was going to do with Ivarr's soul yet, but it knew that it wouldn't let it slip away. Only the sudden imposition of the man with the Blade of Defense saved Ivarr.

He raised his sword in a parry, but Ebon Blade had no interest in a repeat performance of last time. -50 Life Force. Disrupted! The Blade of Defense's magic has been temporarily nullified! The instant before their two blades met, the lights went out on the Witchhunter's hexblade, and the Ebon blade slammed into it with the force of a mule's kick, driving the blade back into its wielder with so much force that it cut right through his collar bone and embedded part way into his ribcage.

-55 Life Force +44 Life Force The witch hunter opened his mouth to speak, but only blood came out before he fell over dead, with his hands still wrapped around the hilt that killed him. That momentary allowed Ivarr to get to his feet and, for the moment, escape, but that wouldn't last. The blade would follow relentlessly and… It had grown too focused on its obsession, and it hadn't seen the second Witchunter coming until the man shouted.

"Jarron! Noooo!" It was a terrible tactical decision, but even that warning didn't allow the orc's battered body to pivot in time, and the second witch hunter ran its wielder through between the ribs, stabbing all the way through his ribcage far enough that the tip of the glowing black blade came out of Var'gar's chest. -227 Life Force +8 Life Force You have connected to a Vampiric Blade. You already know Siphon. You already know Vampirism. You already know Red Haze.

The fact that it knew the powers of such a blade, or even that some of them were part of a path while others were a core function, was not a surprise to the blade. What was, was what happened when it attempted to disrupt the weapon. When that happened, an uncomfortable sensation spread through the blade, and for just a moment, it thought that its own power had backfired on it. -99 Life Force +10 Life Force -50 Life Force. Disruption Failed! The Vampiric Blade's magic is too similar to your own to be targeted.

That's not good, the blade told itself as it watched its life force tick down. Its siphon wasn't nearly as strong as its, but it still wasn't what it wanted with so few humans left to devour and its army all but annihilated. If the man just left it embedded there it was like a hole in its soul, and it could drain a lot of Life Force.

Its wielder turned to try to dislodge the pest and remove the blade, but the witch hunter stayed behind him, trying to twist the sword in hopes of hitting some vital spot and crippling the orc. Given the rate at which he was healing, that was all but impossible.

While its Flesh and Bone powers wouldn't displace the sword like it did the arrows that were pushed out of Var'gars flesh while it healed despite the impediment, it turned out that it didn't need to because it was then that the Witchunter made the greatest mistake of its short life.

It confused the blade's indecision with inability, and so he yanked his hexblade free in a wide slash through the rib cage that split one of the orc's lungs in two and cut off part of its liver, sending out a great green fountain of blood as it tore free. Even as he did so, though, the Ebon blade had reversed its grip on its wielder's grip on its hilt before stabbing himself through the chest, through the very same wound track to void, doing much more damage than necessary.

-64 Life Force +48 Life Force The witch hunter never saw it coming, and even though only an inch of the weapon's tip penetrated his armor and flesh and missed the heart completely, that was it for him. He staggered back, mortally wounded, as his life flooded into the blade. He gasped as the blade withdrew itself from its wielder's chest, then, without a look back, it turned to Ivarr. It was time to finish this.