Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 152 - The Last City
As the Ebon Blade reflected on that, it noticed the tarnished, crack-riddled sections of its blade where the two had exchanged blows. The threads might have reconnected, by and large, but even so, it knew that it was vulnerable, and if another enemy like her, or even some infernal version of the Juggernaut it had beaten in its quest to reach the Golden Throne, attacked it now, it might well not survive the experience.
-1,894 Life Force.
For now, that terrible blow remained unstruck, though. Instead, the petulant jungle around it continued to unravel, revealing nothing but a cathedralesque forest of death and cobwebs, and beyond it, the rocky slopes of the volcano it sought. The blade looked from it back the way it had come and saw the path it had blazed, literally and figuratively.
Since it was so straight, it could actually see glimpses of the sea beyond. It was miles distant, of course, but not as many miles as it had expected it to be. The blade reflected on that before it reached out to the closest part of one of the Warbringer’s legs and forced it onto the oily stump, where it started to fuse almost immediately.
-1,631 Life Force.
The Ebon Blade could likely have forced the whole mechanical puppet to regenerate from pure Life Force, but that would have taken tens of thousands of Life Force, and it didn’t have that much to spare. It had hundreds, and even as it consumed putrid demon souls and pushed that back up to thousands, it still didn’t feel secure.
Despite the danger it was in, the weapon moved slowly, crawling from piece to piece on the ground as it slowly put its wielder back together. By the time it was done, and the blade’s wielder was standing once more, the hellish sun of this world had reduced the Queen of Bugs to nothing but chitin and bone.
-1,396 Life Force.
I never did get a good look at her, the blade reflected silently as it considered the pieces that were left, and tried to square those pieces with the flickering images it had seen during the fight into some coherent whole.
As it tried to picture whether her true form had been bipedal, arachnid, or insect from the pieces that were left, the Ebon Blade ultimately decided she probably had to be all of the above. Even if her shadowy insects had erased the details, what was left was too much of a mixed bag to say anything with certainty.
The blade reflected on her, and on the fight for several minutes, and when the tide of Life Force that was draining to heal its wielder’s many and varied wounds, it turned and started toward the volcano again.
-886 Life Force.
This time, at least, it was not worried about getting redirected or lost. Even if it was, though, fire, at least on a continuous basis, wouldn’t be an option. It had several thousand Life Force left, but it was still healing, and there seemed to be no more prey to devour in the area, so it was best to conserve its energy for whatever lay ahead.
What that was, it couldn’t quite recall. The blade remembered something about harpies and beast men, and it knew that within the volcano, Nuella herself awaited it. At this point, the blade doubted that it would have any choice in fighting her. Everything seemed to want to fight it, but none of those same opponents understood how much danger they were in until it was ripping their souls free of their bodies.
It wasn’t until the blade reached the far end of the jungle, though, and saw the slopes, that it remembered where it needed to go next. As it studied the rumbling volcano, it watched the flow of mana and essence circulating through the landscape, and slowly, its gaze was drawn to an outcropping a few hundred feet up the slope that was paler than the dark volcanic rocks.
-661 Life Force.
It was also separated from it by a river of slowly flowing magma, but that wasn’t what the blade found interesting either. It was the way to the next circle, of course, but there were people living there, or souls at least. That’s what the magic told it.
Stolen novel; please report.
Whether it was a fortress or a city of some kind, though, it couldn’t say. It was hard to make broad assertions about anything in hell. One entrance of the Iron City had led exclusively to the ninth circle of hell after all, and the other reached only to the seventh. Likewise, a fountain pool in the sixth circle seemed to have somehow contained an entire ocean, or at least led to one.
The blade no longer tried to make sense of such madness. It only looked for an exit from it, and the exit from this level clearly led there, to the white stones, so the blade started walking.
-528 Life Force.
Along the way, it killed and consumed the souls of the lesser demons that got too close. These were little fire imps that weren’t so different from the foul creatures that had buried it in shit on its first entrance. They didn’t have much power, but it drank them in greedily as it made its way through the crags toward the magma, which seemed to be the only real barrier remaining between the blade and where it wanted to be.
It was less of a river, though, than it was a torrent. It was a flaming mudslide that had more in common with white water rapids than anything else, and it fell down the mountain in a chaotic series of cascades and small waterfalls.
The heat did not bother the Ebon Blade, so it approached the edge on several different basalt overlooks, looking for the best way to cross. I could probably just use bolt a few times, it told itself, but for now, it declined. Fifty Life Force it spent now was fifty Life Force it might need later, and the healing of Warbringer’s internal components still left it bleeding energy.
-332 Life Force.
Eventually, it found a place where the leaps from stone to stone weren’t too far apart, and it jumped across the fiery gulf in three quick leaps. The Warbringer was in poor condition right now, but even in such a state, it was still stronger and faster than any unenhanced human in creation, and by the time it reached the far side, its iron skin wasn’t even hot enough to fry up a meal.
If I’d slipped into the lava, it would be a different story, the blade told itself, eyeing the liquid death. It hadn’t, though. The blade didn’t slip, nor did it make mistakes. Sometimes the wielders that held it failed, but not in this case, and the blade was grateful for that, though it wished the strange automaton was in better shape.
-264 Life Force.
It had not liked the salt water in the sea, nor the acids and diseases of the jungle, but Bug Queen had done more damage than all of those things combined. It was still dented, cracked, and scarred in two dozen different places, and continued to consume a trickle of Life Force from it. The Ebon Blade wasn’t sure that it would ever heal completely at this rate.
-191 Life Force.
Hopefully that doesn’t matter too much, it told itself. My journey is almost done. The end is in sight. A few more days, and a few more fights, and I will finally be free of this place.
Those reflections faded away, though, as it approached the pale city. That’s what it was, it decided, based on the number and type of buildings half hidden behind its walls. Someone had built a tiny sliver of civilization in the most unimaginable conditions possible. The blade had no idea what to make of that.
Still, as it approached the largely pristine walls, no one attacked it. Despite the armed and armored demons on the walls and the men at the gates, it was not assailed by flights of arrows or hellish spells. They seemed content to let it approach. That was confirmed when it reached the rocky, winding trail and was greeted at the gate.
-177 Life Force.
The very last thing that the Ebon Blade had expected was for someone to greet it, and yet as it moved within two dozen feet of the large wooden gate, the thing began to open, and the guard announced, “Welcome to the Last City.”
As he did so, he and his comrades stood there with discipline, never once moving from his parade rest stance or changing his grip on his strange halberd in any way that indicated he was about to strike at the Ebon Blade. “The Penitant will want to see you right away,” he continued. “Please don’t keep him waiting. If he thinks I’ve delayed you or hampered your passage in any way, well…”
The guard didn’t finish that statement as the weapon’s wielder strode by him, and entered the stone gate, and the blade didn’t think it likely that he would even if it stopped and waited. So, it continued.
The Penitant, huh? The weapon asked itself. It was fairly certain that Prince Cerirvall had mentioned that he was the demon prince of the third circle, which made it wary, but this was the way forward.
-149 Life Force.
I’ve killed six of these bastards already, it reminded itself. What’s one more? Maybe this is the one that will have a sense of self-preservation and let me walk on by.
