Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 163 - Rage, Everlasting
At first, the blade found nothing worth the effort, but as it reached the far side of the volcano, it noted a cave large enough to hide some secrets, or at least some monsters. It was quite a ways down slope from where it stood, though, which left the Ebon Blade with a small conundrum.
Do I go up into the smoke, or down to investigate? It wondered for a moment before turning and starting down. If it continued to go on like it had, the blade’s wielder might be walking for weeks, but if it eventually had to double back, that return trip would only take that much longer.
Once I check this, I will move up in a spiral from now on, the blade decided, to make sure that no other sites of interest were missed.
The way down was as uninteresting as the way up had been, but at least this way, gravity was in its favor, and it reached the cave in only a few hours. Along the way, it had discovered several smaller lava tubes, but they weren’t large enough to explore. This one was, though. Anything might be inside.
The blade didn’t have to walk far into the gaping cavern to find out just how true that was, either. Past curtains of smoke and a heat shimmer that was so bad that it roiled even the blade’s magical vision, it saw a dragon only thirty feet into the tunnel. No, not a dragon, the ghost of a dragon.
It lay there looking bored, and didn’t react at all until Ebon raised itself as it tried to decide whether or not to strike out at it. On the one hand, a dragon soul was incredibly powerful, but on the other, well, the blade wasn’t sure it wanted that much tainted power. The last Hell Dragon Soul it had used had filled its soul and boiled the ocean. That might not be smart or useful to do a second time, and only the fact that it seemed to be a damned spirit rather than a demon kept it interested.
“Why are you here?” it rumbled, opening a single eyelid to gaze at the blade with a pupil that was larger than a shield. The words took it by surprise far more than the action ever could.
“I… A dragon that can talk?” the blade asked, lowering itself, as it was momentarily stunned by the idea. Furnace beasts were huge and voracious, but that hunger blotted out everything else, including intelligence. They weren’t much stronger than goblins. Even beastmen were smarter.
“A dragon that can talk is no stranger than a man without a soul, or a sword with many souls,” the great creature rumbled. “Now leave me my peace before I melt you down to slag and devour you to fulfill my endless hunger.”
“Why is this no place for me?” the blade asked with the Warbringer’s rusted voice. “Is that the secret to reaching the top?”
“There is no secret to reaching the top of the volcano,” the dragon answered. “For there is no top. You could walk a hundred lifetimes and never reach it.”
“How is that possible?” the weapon asked.
“The slopes of wrath are not for a puppet without a beating heart,” the monster roared, ignoring its question. “How did you even find your way here with such an empty soul? This is the realm of anger, and not a place for you.” He followed up that statement with a blast of fire that washed over the blade and its wielder. It made no move to dodge the attack and was harmed by it only a little.
-212 Life Force.
“I have come to Mount Knoeal to escape hell. I plan to confront—”
“Are you mad?” it roared. “Do not speak her name. To say it is to summon her!”
“Nuella, the Prime Evil, Mistress of the Nine Rings and lord of hell,” the blade spat, making the long-necked dragon shrink away as if it expected the Warbringer to be struck by lightning.
“I’ll say it again, too,” the blade threatened. “I’ll curse her as many times as it takes until you answer my questions. Why can’t I reach the top? How do I reach my goal?”
“The molten fury that powers a volcano is not found in its peak any more than the fires of a dragon come from its mouth,” the beast roared in annoyance. “If you wish to face the mistress of this place, you must journey deeper, not higher.”
“How is that possible?” the blade asked, thinking of the souls it had seen suffering in the lava flows. “Should I swim in magma?”
“Lava? For those with the eyes to see it, this place is desolate,” the dragon entoned. As it spoke, it rose from its haunches and paced toward the exit of its cave, stepping right over the Warbringer. “If you see the fires raging still, it is only because you are not ready for the path forward. Perhaps you will need another lifetime or two to sort that out.”
“If you will not answer me, spirit, I’ll—” As the blade threatened the dragon, it continued to stroll out, but its tail cracked behind it like a trunk-thick bull whip in a blow it didn’t even see coming until the last instant.
The attack had been hidden entirely by the dragon’s nonchalant movements, and it had seemed completely uninterested in the weapon until it struck. The sword brought itself up just in time to parry at the last moment, but that barely affected the damage it caused. The dragon’s tail crumpled the Warbringer’s chestplate, caving it in completely as it was flicked across the cavern to impact the wall hard enough to crack the dark igneous rock.
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-1,386 Life Force.
“Mortals may not threaten me and live,” the dragon roared as it moved toward the exit. “Certainly not soulless husks like you!”
The damage to the Warbringer was as widespread as it was unexpected. Had it been in the grip of a mortal wielder, they would certainly be vomiting blood. Still, the blade didn’t let that stop it. Even though it couldn’t run properly until it healed some set of inner gears, it still darted forward with Bolt, letting it cut a deep rent into the translucent spiritual beast as it exited the cave and stretched its wings wide.
-100 Life Force.
+62 Life Force.
“You will tell me what I want to know, or I will consume your soul to find my answers!” the Warbringer bellowed, but the dragon just shrugged it off. Whatever answer it might have delivered was lost in a roar of pain.
The blade could have flashed after it again and again. It could have chased it through the sky, but instead it landed, splintering stone as its wielder’s metal body slowly tried to repair the damage that had been done.
-682 Life Force.
It would have left well enough alone, but that was not to be, for the dragon wheeled in the sky for a second attack. This one was a curtain of pure blue flames which were so bright they were very nearly white. The blade stood there at the last moment before flicking to one side to avoid the worst of them. Even as it did so, though, it grabbed onto that torrent of energy and pulled, trying to turn the giant dragon spirit inside out as it drew out its soul.
Against the spirit of a man, that would have worked. The Ebon Blade was a master of spirits, but still, this one fought it. Almost as soon as the blade gripped it, the beast stopped breathing fire and pulled away, dragging itself higher one beat of its wings at a time, and somehow, it managed to save itself.
Did it save itself, though, or did I just let it go? The weapon wondered. It didn’t succeed in capturing its soul, but it did draw out part of the fire that filled the forge beast as it flew away with huge beats of its wings.
+3,476 Life Force. Your reserves are overfilled!
-431 Life Force.
The blade didn’t really need the monster’s power, and certainly not in this way, but something about that energy made it feel clean, and for a few seconds afterward, it regretted not drinking it to the dregs as it stood there burning with that blue fire.
Once the thing retreated off into the smoky sky, the blade considered everything it had said. “This place is not for me, because why?” it asked itself. “Because I don’t have enough anger? Enough heart? What does a dumb beast know?”
That answer annoyed the blade, but it also resonated with some of the things that the Penitent had said, and it knew for a fact that the deceitful demon prince had not uttered a single true word in their interactions. He was made of lies to the very end.
I’ve tried to move past my anger during my time here, but was that a mistake? It wondered. The Ebon Blade saw no way that fighting with a clear and level head could be a mistake, but if this place really was called the slopes of wrath, then perhaps it was missing something.
While the Warbringer healed bolt by bolt and gear by gear, the blade searched the cavern that the dragon had just vacated, but found nothing of note, which was frustrating. If that had been the demon prince of this circle, then the way would have been clear from here, it reflected in annoyance, eager for a challenge it could conquer in combat.
Finding none, it wandered over to the nearest lava flow, watching the imps swarm above the surface as the damned burned and drowned in the flow as it reflected. Most of the circles it had traveled through had possessed a certain emotional valence to them, but were resonating with them somehow, a part of the equation that it had missed until now?
The blade was unconvinced, but as it considered some of the other places it had been, it had become less sure. There had been despair, regret, and hopelessness, so why not anger?
The idea that it would get angry on purpose after all this time was ironic, given that the blade had tried hard to rein in its most violent tendencies as it had stitched its soul back together. Still, it could feel that churning rage deep inside of it. It still boiled where it had been pushed to the bottom, beneath the filth and the scars, and it didn’t take much to rekindle it.
All that the Ebon Blade had to do was contemplate the situation it was in now to feel that distant anger. It barely had to linger on the Penitent, or the ocean lord that had come before that, and what they’d put the blade through before it could feel a pulse of rage thrumming through it, though.
That feeling made it that much easier to reflect on its wielders. Something about each one was enough to anger it. The way that Evelyn had been vaporised pointlessly, the way that Ivarr had betrayed it for a woman of all things, and of course, the fate of Baraga. Even the pathetic wielders who held it for a time irritated it.
As it concentrated on getting mad, the strangest thing happened, and the volcano’s eruptions began to subside. No, it was more than that. As it considered the Golden Throne and the traitorous king that sat upon it, the world began to shift. It should have seen red, but instead, it watched as the sky dimmed and the fires faded, leaving only an angry red glow.
It looked around now, noting that the volcanic landscape had changed entirely. No, not just the volcano, it realized. The magma had vanished, true, and the smoke was gone. As the weapon gazed out, it realized that even the sea had retreated, but there was one even more noticeable change: the sun had finally set.
Not completely. It was lingering just behind the volcano. The rest of the world was still lit, but it was now in shadow.
What does that mean? The blade wondered. As its frustration started blotting out its rage, lava began to sputter from the lip of the volcano, and the sun started to move out from behind the mountain, but the blade doubled down on memories of King Paralon and the Aetherarchy ripping out the souls of Barga’s friends. That was enough to push the light back again, leaving him in darkness.
Once that was the case… once it was so enraged all it wanted to do was hunt down that king’s soul in the Pit so it could kill him again, the way became clear. There were many cracks in the shadowed peak that glowed red with fire, but one of them was larger than all the rest combined, and it called the blade.
Unfortunately, as it turned and approached the thing, a figure emerged and stood silhouetted against the evil crimson glow.
From the distance and heat shimmer, it was difficult to make out any details, and bile flowing through it right now, getting much from its magical vision was impossible, but that didn’t matter. Right now, all it wanted to do was kill something, and even though this newcomer was probably the demon prince that had evaded it the last few days, it would do nicely.
