Chương 32: 31. Beings of Blades

Golden light filled my surroundings as silver tendrils shot out of the blades, wrapping around me, piercing my body. This was the painful part. Similar to their creators, divine weapons always demanded a price. Aside from the gold and the knowledge to awaken them, they wanted to be sure that the wielder had the required strength and ability to wield them properly. For a vampiric type weapon, such as mine, it wanted to be satisfied that I'd be able to feed it in its new state. What are you willing to sacrifice?

Golden letters within a silver rectangle glittered.

"My speed," I began enumerating.

"My hands. My fingers." The rectangle remained motionless. Meanwhile, the intricate pattern of a floor formed beneath me. Participants who'd come here for the first time would be fascinated by the detail that had gone into the hundreds of battle scenes illustrated on it. Finer than mosaic, it was as if an entire team of master artists had dedicated their lives to compose the painting that the deities had encased in stone. The truth was a lot darker.

Each scene was a memory of the weapon: a powerful encounter of its previous wielder and that person's sacrifice. Skills, speed, strength, all went into the weapon, making it stronger and fiercer for the wielders to come. Yet to be able to use them all, one had to pay the same price.

"My experience," I added.

"My knowledge." The floor kept on expanding, revealing more and more. There was a scene of a woman in knight's armor fighting a dragon, only it wasn't just a knight, but a participant. I was curious whether I had met her in my previous run. Based on the skill of her attacks, it was unlikely. It would be interesting to know what she had sacrificed to the blades. Walls grew out of the floor, all of them covered with murals and paintings. Each frame was a wielder that the weapon considered exceptional.

"My will," I said loudly. If I were willing to go so far, I might as well stake it all. Upon my death, it hardly mattered where my sacrifice would go. The massive hall finished its construction. At the same time, the tendrils kept digging further into my body. The pain had significantly reduced, becoming a constant irritant. Without a moment's hesitation, I bent down and grabbed each sword by the hilt. The tendrils squirmed, twisting about like flexible razor blades. Two of Chains, I thought, firming my grip.

"Is that your challenge?" As the blades kept struggling to break loose, one of the images on the floor rose up. It was a red-haired boy, possibly eighteen, wearing a standard traveler's outfit. I could only pity him for being snatched by the Arcana so young. I had no idea what his life must have been like, or what he had achieved during his run. The only thing I did know was that at some point the blades had accepted him as their owner.

"Just him?" I asked. The boy raised two blades identical to mine, then dashed at me. Being a memory of a weapon, my opponent was immune to the effects of Harlequin's Sight. Looking at him, I just saw a person. Observing his movements gave me a good idea of what cards he was using. Reaching a distance of five feet, the boy spun around, extending his blades to slit my throat. Maintaining my calm, I took a step back. There was no point in deflecting the attack. Anyone could tell that it was a feint.

Instead, I activated the flames on my swords and proceeded with a single arc slash. Blade met blade, sending a wave of pain up my arm to the very shoulder. Lacking the cards, I counterattacked in the old fashion way, relying on everything I had learned in the ten years of my run. My left blade thrust forward, aiming at the boy's head, while my second sword stood ready to respond to his counter. People with even a fraction of fencing knowledge would probably wince at the sight of me. In the past, many had.

That didn't matter. Guides were nothing more than practical suggestions. The boy leaped back, immediately following up with a dual arc slash. I could tell that his goal was to cut off one of my arms. That meant that he was a novice, just as I had been ten years ago. Sorry, kid. I used the Five of Chains. My left arm sprang into action, blocking the attack with my other blade. For a single moment three blades were pressing against one another, neither side able to push the other back.

I could very well continue this game, outwitting him through experience. He was just a boy; he didn't need to die.

"No," I uttered beneath my breath. He was already dead. Using my Boots of Swiftness, I held firm to the ground and performed a power thrust. Blood splattered over the pristine floor as my blade pierced all the way through the boy's chest. Neither the clothes nor his rib cage had slowed down the strike, which tore up his heard and a large part of his lungs.

"So strong…" a whisper escaped his breath—a testament to the strength of will. Then he collapsed to the floor. I stepped back. Even after all this time, I hadn't gotten used to killing people that didn't deserve it. Maybe it was the youth of my body talking, or maybe it was the blades that linked us together. Don't get sentimental. I closed my eyes for a moment. This is what you came back to do. If I wanted to advance, there would be many more fights with echoes of the past.

More importantly, there were some living people I needed to kill. Rage filled me up again. Only cowards would leave me to die at the hands of a trial, rather than doing the deed themselves. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I opened my eyes. The boy's corpse was in the process of being pulled into the floor. As I watched, all traces of the fight were removed as the grand "painting" was restored.

The red-haired boy was there, holding both blades in an attacking stance. Looking closely, it almost seemed that he was smiling. Your sacrifice has been accepted. DARK SILVER BLADES have awoken (Level 1). Watercutter: can slice through water without resistance. In confirmation, bright silvery streaks emerged on the dark surface, like cracks of light on a dungeon wall. All tendrils pulled out of my body. Now that I had been accepted, the weapon wasn't going to resist anymore.

The attack skill was pretty worthless, but that wasn't the main point. The mere fact that I had initiated the awakening had taken me to a separate realm of the trial. Now that it was over, I got to return, yet was allowed a bit of discretion exactly where to emerge from. A single second separated me from the fight against the blade serpent. Butting every moment to use, I dashed away from my initial spot. The blink of an eye later, I was back in the cargo hold.

The monster continued downwards, just as if had moments ago. Unable to stop its inertia, it crashed into the floor and continued on. One of Swords. I struck the side of the creature with a power thrust. My blade hit another, creating a hairline crack along its length. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to shatter it. Look for the cracked scales, I told myself as I leaped back. Aware of its failure, the snake's massive body wriggled. All blades in its tail half extended outward like spokes on a pufferfish.

There were so many of them—blades upon blades with nothing visible in-between. I remained still for a second, blanking my mind of any distractions. In the past run, I had come across a Blade Serpent several times, though never seen it killed, not in person. According to some of the veterans, the beast was just like a crab: hard and sharp on the outside, but with a gooey interior. As long as one managed to land a hit, everything else was easy.

Of course, just as participants could be useful, they had the tendency to lie and exaggerate. The end of the snake's tail became visible, slamming indiscriminately in the large space. I sprinted, moving as far from the tail as possible, while circling the monster. All the time, my eyes jumped from blade to blade, seeking out one that was broken. Finally, I found one. Bard. I thought as I leaped at my target.

"Ice, wind, fire, and steel," I sang, reciting the most common combat bard anthem. Strands emerged from my mouth. They could barely compare to those released by the sirens, but had their own uses. Like threads of toffee, they stuck to the blade scales of the snake. The single card didn't allow me to cause any damage, yet I was able to isolate the broken scale from the rest. It was now or never. Continuing to sing, I performed another power thrust. The tips of both my weapons hit the scale in the middle.

The blade shattered, allowing my blades to sink in further. Orange goo squirted out. I activated all my support cards. Fire, acid, and paralytic venom covered the blades. If this were a human-sized enemy, the effect would have been instantaneous. Against such a giant construct, it was questionable whether I had done anything at all. Ending my song, I stepped on the board side of a scale-blade and leaped off, doing a somersault.

Another broken blade caught my attention before the tail of the serpent disappeared into the deck below. As I fell, I visualized possible spots from which the monster might emerge. Something this size needed at least fifty feet in order to turn around. Given that it had been several seconds since its head had crashed through the floor, I could assume that I had just as long to get into position. The moment my feet touched the floor, I sprinted towards the far end of the space.

Almost on cue, metal erupted as the blade-covered head emerged. No longer prey to inertia, the snake controlled its ascent. What passed as the front bent down as giant crimson eyes looked around. It was tempting to attack the eyes. There wasn't a living creature that could do without them. That was a trap. The eyes definitely helped the creature focus on a specific point, but it was the blades that granted its wider vision. Like a cat's whiskers, they could sense anything and everything in the immediate vicinity.

I took a step forward, provoking the monster to attack. In my mind, I had already visualized how I would leap to the side, letting it pass by. That's when I saw them—a cluster of broken scales just beneath the left eye. That couldn't be an accident. Someone, or something, had caused the wound, though failed to kill off the creature. Was it a deity? Another group of participants? Or did the serpent have a natural enemy in this game of divinity?

"Hey!" I shouted.

"Come at me!" Every strand in my body screamed in protest. Years of experience had taught me never to take a monster head-on, especially an Arcana Card holder. Nothing in my possession had the strength to kill it outright. My initial plan had been to win through a thousand strikes. Each wound would be insignificant on its own, but when the dozens became hundreds, the effects would stack up. Now, I had something else in mind. The serpent's jaws detached as it darted straight at me. The speed was astonishing.

It was only thanks to the strength rings that I managed to leap high enough in the split second before certain death. Blades rose up, flying inches from my chin and chest.

"The last time I cried," I sang a single line, blinding the monster of my presence. Waiting for the precise moment, I then followed up with a dual arc slash. The divine blades cut through the cracked scales like a scythe through grass. A dozen of them shattered, splitting fragments in the air. An entire unprotected batch was revealed. Smaller scales—in the form of daggers—were visible, attempting to protect a sea of pins. Here goes! I plunged both blades in.

A fountain of orange ooze erupted as if I had popped a giant pustule. I tried to pull my weapons out, but the substance had stuck to them like glue. My only options were to let go and continue with the other weapons in my inventory or hold on. Without hesitation, I chose the latter, pulling the rest of my body into the small non-lethal area among the blades. The serpent clearly didn't like that, for it twisted around, continuing through another wall.

I started a new song, attempting to lull it to whatever degree was possible. At the same time, I kept hanging on, triggering the effects of my acid and paralysis cards. Even on the head itself, the chance of them affecting the creature was close to nil. With no better alternative, the only option was to hold on for the ride. A wall approached behind me. Barely had I glanced over my shoulder when I saw it burst into metal fragments.

The swords on the snake's head provided much better protection that I could have ever imagined. Releasing one of my blades, I took the goblin-killer sword and stuck it next to the others. The blade melted before my eyes. Really? I grabbed hold of the hilt of the other blade. Some deity you are. Whoever had gifted me the weapon during the goblin trial clearly didn't consider quality to be a necessary requirement for battle. On the positive side, I had freed up one more inventory slot.

The serpent changed direction again, this time heading up. As the ceiling exploded, dozens of undead minions rained down upon us. Most of them were skewered by the scale blades, perishing on the instant. One landed dangerously close, only to get a kick in the stomach. I'm not letting go! I shouted in my mind. No matter what the creature threw at me, I intended to hold on until one of us was dead.