Bloodstained Blade-Chapter 51 - The Great Tusks
Before its new green skinned wielder was even back to its camp, the Ebon blade knew almost everything there was to know about it. Thargen the Red was little more than a ball of rage, and was more of a murderer than a hunter, and seemed to want little in life beyond killing. That suited the blade, though it found the fact that its new wielder hadn’t even attempted to ask it a question a little strange.
Name: Thargen the Red
Occupation: Warrior
Toughness: 8 +4
Strength: 9 +7
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.
Agility: 6 +2
Speed: 4 +2
Intelligence: 3
Willpower: 3 -1
Morality: Savage
Bloodlust: Overwhelming
Status: Normal
Martial Skill: Medium
Armor Proficiency: None
Dodging: Low
Athletics: Medium
Goal: To bathe in the blood of his enemies.
Even Gar-lok tried to understand and bargain with me, the blade thought to itself.
When the campfires in the distance indicated that the brute was almost home, the blade finally decided to speak to Thargen directly. When you return to your people, you should not speak of me, it whispered into his ear.
That was enough to make the orc stop what he was doing and look around for the unseen speaker. That look of confusion lasted only a minute before it continued on in silence. Still, the blade was sure that it wasn’t a matter of comprehension but interest. The brute simply didn’t care that there was a voice in its head. It cared about the terrible strength that flowed through it.
Terrible truly was the word for it. All of the blade’s magic had been enough to make Ivarr strong enough to go toe to toe with these monsters, but in the hands of a monster, all it did was amplify their already bestial strength.
The blade had planned to have its wielder kill their leader and take control of the tribe, as it had done with the goat men so long ago, but Thargen had other ideas. Almost as soon as he returned to the firelight, he started killing the orcs sitting there with indiscriminate rage.
There was no technique. There weren’t even any words. There were only great sprays of green blood and throbbing feelings of murder and vengeance in all directions as the alarm was sounded, and those that were further from him drew their weapons to fight.
+89 Life Force.
+3 Great Monster Souls.
Strange as it was, though, the blade didn’t pay much attention to the fight. Despite the fact that it had been waiting for this moment for weeks, it was distracted from the graceless melee by something else: the blood.
When it had cut the neck of the elf, it had noticed the way that the blood of her wound was drawn toward it, but since then, it hadn’t had a chance to observe more violence. Now, though, it was impossible to miss. Each time its wielder hacked away at someone’s limb, it came apart in a spray of dark green blood, and each time, some of that blood followed in the wake of the strike like tiny tendrils of violence.
+141 Life Force.
+6 Great Monster Souls.
There were screams and shouts all around them now. Souls and Life Force were surging into it, but the blade ignored all of that as it watched the blood swirl and felt the ticking of the counter on its Path of Blood rising. One night wouldn’t be enough to hit the hundred it needed, but almost every strike except the ones that rained sparks as steel met and shattered stone axe blades made that small number increase.
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Even the number wasn’t as important as the savage dance of the blood. Before now, it had always felt the difference between fat and muscle and between small bones and large ones. Now, it could almost feel the pulse of its opponents. It could feel the blood throbbing through their veins, just begging to be drunk.
+117 Life Force.
+4 Great Monster Souls.
Thargen moved through half the campsite, leaving only corpses with frost-bitten wounds in his wake before he encountered the chieftain. That was enough to give the orc pause for the first time.
“You think to challenge me?!” the giant of an orc roared as it spread its hands wide, making it seem that much larger.
Until this encounter, the blade had no idea why this tribe was called the Great Tusks, but one look at the chieftain made it understand. Not only was the orc over seven feet tall, but he had massive tusks protruding from each corner of his mouth.
“You have treated me badly,” Thargen yelled back for the first time. Up until now, the orc had been silent. Now, he brandished the blade. “You have shamed me, and I will have my revenge!”
“Your shame is your own! You are treated poorly because you are weak!” the chieftain yelled back. “You have slain the women and the children, and for what? The Stone Skulls and the Blood Axes will eat your bones if you manage to slay the rest of us too!”
“I have slain warriors, too! I have slain them all!” Thargen growled. “Now I have found a god, and I will use it to strike you down as well!”
“A puny god,” the chieftain laughed. “Are you too weak to use an axe like a real orc?”
Thargen’s only answer was to charge the chieftain, pumping his long muscular legs with the goal of cleaving the other monster in two in a single, violent move. The Ebon blade knew that would not succeed so easily.
This opponent was not underestimating the opponent or even the threat of his sudden strength. There was a cruel, animal cunning in the orc’s one good eye. He was someone that had fought many battles and was waiting for his opportunity.
The blade realized it was already over four thousand Life Force from the recent slaughter. It could easily burn most of that away on upgrades, but for now, it held off. This fight was shaping up to be too interesting for it to put its fingers on the scale just yet. It had no real attachment to its wielder yet, and felt no need to help Thargen as he faced off against a superior opponent.
Instead of doing anything at all, the blade merely watched with all the intensity it could muster. It ignored the flickering fire or the other orcs lurking at the edges of its light and focused only on the two warriors as Thargen opened with a barrage of graceless slashes that would have split stone. Each time, his chieftain merely took a single step back, though. Only once did the larger ogre misjudge the gap and take a small slash across his chest. That was enough to drain some blood before the wound iced over, but it wasn’t enough to stagger or even slow the giant.
+28 Life Force
Each time its wielder missed, his chieftain laughed or shouted some abuse. “All the gods of the mountains will not save you if you cannot swing harder than that!” the orc yelled on one occasion.
“How could you kill anyone with such a blow,” he yelled on another occasion.
The taunting was a simple tactic, but it was working and making its wielder’s already clumsy strikes that much more careless. It was when Thargen was at his most reckless that the chieftain struck. He didn’t try to kill Thargen. He just waited until the orc was over-extended and then pushed him into the guttering bonfire they’d been circling around at the center of the camp.
-14 Life Force
-12 Life Force
-18 Life Force
Thargen roared with pain, and for a moment, he actually dropped the Ebon Blade in an attempt to avoid falling on his face. Still, he quickly recovered and picked the thing back up. Then, blade in hand, he rose again. He was burning, but he was healing almost as fast as he burned, which made for an ugly sight.
-24 Life Force
“You cannot kill a god with fire!” Thargen roared, stepping out of the flames once more, to the surprise of everyone, including his chieftain. “It is the flames! I feel it burning within me, and as long as I hold it, I can be bested by no one!”
-16 Life Force
Still more than a little charred and half-blind with rage, its wielder charged the hulking giant in front of it with a powerful thrust. Thargen had been expecting the orc to avoid the attack like all the others, so he was more surprised than anything when it actually embedded deep into his chieftain’s left side.
+26 Life Force
The Ebon Blade could feel Thargen’s shock, but then it also knew that the larger orc had let the blow land on purpose. It knew that even before, both of his hands grabbed its wielder by his sword arm and yanked the elbow in the wrong direction, bending it backward with a sickening crunch.
+23 Life Force
-29 Life Force
Both of them roared in pain. Thargen did because of the broken bones protruding through his flesh, and the chieftain did because of the way the motion made the sword piercing his left side churn dangerously. Only the smaller orc had a chance of healing, of course, but the bones could not heal as long as they were being forced the wrong way, and the larger orc ignored the pain.
+26 Life Force
-21 Life Force
“If you can’t die… As long as you hold your relic…” the chieftain grunted, “Then I will just have to... Take it... AWAY!”
+31 Life Force
-18 Life Force
The whole time this happened, Life Force was pouring out of the blade, but it didn’t care. It was too enthralled with the mortal combat taking place around it to worry about a few dozen Life Force. Instead, it dwelled in the feelings of blood and viscera as its current wielder tried to demonstrate that he was worthy of it.
He almost succeeded, too. Moment by moment, the chieftain’s strength began to ebb as his bowels went cold, and his blood flowed into the weapon. Still, that failing strength lasted longer than Thargen’s did, and at that critical moment in the fight, the chieftain succeeded in ripping the limb off of the other man at that point.
