The black mass stirred the moment Neo brought it closer to the twin blades.

It never moved like metal. The surface slid over his wrist, climbed across the back of his hand, and stretched toward the paired swords with a hunger so obvious that even Neo felt it through the bond.

Venomfang reacted first. A faint tremor ran through the blade, not fear, not quite resistance either, more like a weapon realizing it had just been placed in front of something higher on the chain. Gravefang answered a heartbeat later. That one felt different from the start. Heavier in intent. Meaner. Like it preferred to stay buried in flesh and ruin whatever tried to live through it.

Neo watched the relic creep farther over his skin and gave the order anyway.

"Go on," he said, lifting the blades a little. "Eat."

The Thousand-Form Relic moved at once.

Black metal poured over Venomfang first, swallowing edge, guard, grip, every inch of the Saint-ranked sword until it vanished inside that living dark. Gravefang lasted a little longer.

Its shape pushed once against the relic’s surface, as though pride alone could stop what was happening. It did not. The black mass folded over it, took it whole, and both swords disappeared into the relic without leaving even a glimmer behind.

The surface tightened around Neo’s hand and forearm.

A pulse traveled through the bond and drove straight into his soul.

The Soul Window opened before him.

[Soul-Window]

[The Thousand-Form Relic has devoured Twin Fangs of the Mourning Executioner - Saint.]

[Weapon form is being refined...]

Neo narrowed his eyes and stayed still.

He could feel the process inside the relic. This was not storage. Not even simple consumption. The relic was tearing through what made the blades themselves, breaking apart poison, bloodletting, the executioner theme carried by the pair, the way the two weapons had worked in sequence, and it was doing more than tearing them apart. It was taking all of that and dragging it upward into something closer to its own level.

The black surface crept higher, almost to his elbow now. A second pulse hit harder than the first, enough to make his jaw tighten.

There was pain in it, but not the ordinary kind. More like holding a creature while it grew stronger in your grasp and deciding not to let go.

The Soul Window shifted again.

[Refinement complete.]

[New stored form acquired.]

[Twin Fangs of the Mourning Executioner - Supreme]

Neo stared at that for a long breath.

Supreme.

A slow smile touched his mouth.

That alone made the whole thing worth it.

He focused and more information unfolded in front of him.

[Twin Fangs of the Mourning Executioner - Supreme]

[Description: A refined dual form born from devoured executioner blades, recast by divine hunger into a higher shape.]

[Abilities]

[Mourning Venom: Cuts inject a venom that spreads through flesh and disrupts soul essence flow.]

[Grave Wound: Injuries opened by this form resist healing and worsen under movement.]

[Execution Mark: If both blades wound the same target in quick succession, a hidden mark forms. Marked targets suffer slower movement, worsening internal decay, and increased vulnerability to further cuts.]

Neo read through it again, more slowly this time.

"That’s better."

He willed the relic to shift.

The black mass peeled away from his arm and ran into shape. Two blades formed from it, though neither looked like the same weapons he had fed it. Venomfang and Gravefang had been good Saint blades, brutal in a direct way, but this form carried something nastier. Both swords were slimmer now and darker, with a faint sheen that looked almost wet under the low light in the room. The guards curved back like hooked fangs. The handles fit his hands better than the originals had, as if the relic had studied the way he moved and rebuilt the weapons around that.

Neo raised one blade, then the other.

They were lighter than before, though not weaker. Nothing close to weaker. The balance had improved so much that he felt it immediately through his wrists and shoulders. These weren’t weapons he had to adapt around. They already matched him.

He cut once through the air.

The right sword whispered.

The left followed with a lower sound, something uglier, as if it dragged a promise behind it.

Neo stepped back from the bed, gave himself room, and moved through a few more motions. A crossing cut. A reverse grip change. A short burst with both hands. The blades answered every adjustment without hesitation. The Saint pair had been valuable loot from a monster strong enough to guard a throne. This was something else. This was his.

His Soul Essence barely shifted while he held them.

That made sense. They were no longer outside weapons he had to sustain like separate relics. They were part of the Divine one now, a stored form inside something far above them. The Thousand-Form Relic had taken Saint-rank treasure and pulled it a full level higher as if that were natural.

Neo rolled one wrist and studied the right blade again.

’Supreme in one swallow. Ridiculous.’

The thought pleased him more than he cared to admit.

He swung again and imagined the result on a real body. Mourning Venom would spread with the cut and foul the target from the inside, not only through flesh but through soul essence. Grave Wound would make healing worse and movement more dangerous. If he chained both together properly, Execution Mark would finish the rest for him. A marked enemy would slow, rot inward, and open up under every new strike.

He dismissed the swords, called them back again, and watched the black mass run over his fingers before opening into the paired Supreme blades for a second time. The transition came even easier now. The relic had already accepted the shape and wanted to use it.

His divine relic really was a monster.

And it was his.

That pulled his thoughts toward the extra tab Soul Reaver had shown him earlier. Residue. Impulses. Fragments. Every class he took left something behind. Power never came clean. That rule had not changed. The relic felt different, but not innocent. It devoured and refined, yes, though what lived inside it had also grown more eager with every worthy thing it consumed. He could feel that satisfaction through the bond now, low and pleased, like some beast curling up after a good meal and already waiting for the next one.

Neo let the swords fade and watched the black surface sink back beneath his skin.

The room had gone dark except for the city light slipping through the window and laying pale strips across the floor. His phone rested on the mattress where he had left it after speaking with Vivienne. The apartment had fallen quiet again, but it did not feel empty. Not with a Divine relic inside his soul digesting Supreme steel as though it had eaten dinner.

Neo crossed to the window and glanced outside.

Gray Hand in less than two months.

Vivienne tomorrow.

Richards waiting.

Snot and Alice heading into the next stretch without Max and Marika.

Leo Duplain somewhere in the city with that smug face and that Mythic class.

There was too much to do and too little time to waste. He needed more strength, more credits, more understanding of what exactly Soul Reaver would turn him into if he let it keep taking without restraint. He needed control.

He clicked his tongue softly.

"What a pain."

Even so, the smile from earlier tried to come back.

Supreme weapons after a month.

Any awakened his age would lose sleep over that.

Neo let the curtain fall back into place, dropped onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling until the weight of the day started pulling him down again. The relic stayed quiet after feeding, almost content for once. Sleep came slower than before, though when it finally reached him, it did the job properly.

By the next day, the sun had already climbed high enough to push a pale wash through the room.

Neo got up, washed, dressed, checked the hour, and pulled up the message with the place Vivienne had sent him. It was in a decent part of the city. Not one of the absurd districts where everything smelled expensive and fake, but nowhere cheap either. He read it once more, fixed it in his head, and slipped the phone into his pocket.

The hallway outside his apartment smelled faintly of old paint and someone’s cooking from another floor. He locked the door, went down, and stepped out into the street.

A car was waiting by the curb.

Dark body, tinted windows, polished enough to show money without shouting for attention. The kind of car that told you the person inside either had power or wanted the world to assume it.

Neo slowed.

Before he had even reached the sidewalk properly, the back door unlocked with a quiet click.

He stared at it for a brief moment.

’This doesn’t seem very trustworthy.’