Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 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.

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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—”

“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.

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+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.