My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 932 - 933: The Fang Taker

[Sword of Nicholas]

[Type: Weapon]

[Description]

Nicholas stood as a diminutive figure among men. Yet, in place of his lacking height, he compensated with unyielding resolve. While taller warriors endured, Nicholas persisted even further. As superior fighters crumbled, Nicholas endured steadfastly. No soul dared belittle Nicholas... that is, until the dragon Ashergon soared across the heavens. His teeth gleamed like blades, his talons struck like lances, and nothing could halt Ashergon's advance.

The diminutive Nicholas stepped forward boldly to confront the formidable Ashergon. To offset his modest build, he crafted an enormous and heavy blade.

Upon directly challenging Ashergon, he dissolved into worthless cinders, forgotten in moments, abandoning a gigantic sword that would fade from all memory.

[Effect]

In some way, resentment must have fueled him deeply. The sword's design proves far from ugly. Though it appears tiny next to a behemoth, it harbors the strength to fell such giants, enabling it to expand in size, become weightless, and sharpen to lethal keenness.

---

From his shadow storage, Damon drew forth this very item.

The Sword of Nicholas.

Before Ashergon, Nicholas amounted to little more than a tiny stone, incinerated in a flash. Still, who among others could boast of confronting such a beast? Though Damon held no knowledge of Nicholas, the truth stood unaltered. Even after demise, his weapon persisted.

Perhaps the first sword differed entirely. This version was undoubtedly shaped by the enigmatic deity. Nonetheless, it bore an overbearing essence.

Such was the essence of a warrior who gazed only upward at towering peaks and resolved to conquer them. A warrior who never deemed himself insignificant.

Rexagon's crushing presence bore down from above. His expansive wings appeared to blanket the entire sky, mist devouring the daylight so that shadows vanished everywhere—save for Damon's, which twisted bizarrely under his soles.

Seras held her position firmly. Silver valkyrie-like armor enveloped her form, segments clicking shut with soft clinks of metal. She clutched a glassy sword in her grasp, its empty interior gradually brimming with blood that throbbed rhythmically like a living pulse.

"I am the lord of the carrion skies," Rexagon bellowed.

Like a massive mallet, his cry descended, rattling the Hanging Paths while his exhalation scorched across the woodland.

"All that ends beneath the earth must bow before me."

The tendrils quaked fiercely. Produce from the Orchard of Regret broke loose and tumbled earthward as the dragon's fury lashed out at the Evil Forest in retaliation.

"I am the one who feeds on all that is nurtured. I am the earth. I am Rexagon."

Through those booming declarations, Damon grasped the root of draconic pride. Rexagon's jaws ignited crimson, then morphed to an unthinkable azure. The substance that gushed from his throat challenged all logic.

It burst forth from his jaws akin to a cascading torrent.

Wherever it contacted the tendrils, it seared right through with scorching intensity that charred the atmosphere itself, the ground under Damon's feet scorching and splitting apart.

"Blue lava," Damon whispered, clenching Nicholas’ sword harder.

Poisonous vapors trailed behind, diffusing across the oppressive quiet. Tendrils withered and perished while enormous fruits the size of dwellings hurtled down at Damon and Seras.

The enormous tendril supporting them started to dissolve.

Rexagon's wrath focused on them now, his enormous horn dipping low to charge right into their vantage point. Seras reacted swiftly. Her sword slashed out, crimson fluid leaking from her nostrils as a scarlet curve ripped across the sky, echoing with the cries and echoes of countless soldiers trapped in perpetual combat.

Rexagon parted his jaws. A pale shield flickered to life, absorbing the initial assault. Then his talon lashed out, batting the follow-up away amid an earth-rending shriek.

"War... you think you can overcome Rexagon with war?" he thundered.

His talon crashed downward, shredding the colossal tendril from its base while Damon and Seras gripped on desperately.

Blue lava rushed in pursuit.

Damon tumbled aside, his boots grinding against smoldering wood as the liquid fire pursued relentlessly. He plunged under the toppling tendril as it leaned precariously, then propelled himself off nothingness via Airwalk, ascending and dragging his body back atop the wobbling platform.

"I was born from the screams of war," Rexagon bellowed. "I was bathed in blood, baked beneath the fires of the earth. I am Rexagon, and I do not fear that which carries the carrion scent."

His wings flapped in a single mighty motion.

A cosmic tempest burst forth. Damon almost slipped as the fierce wind clawed at his body, slicing fine cuts over his flesh. Crimson flowed unchecked as he staggered ahead and clutched Seras’ leg, steadying himself against the gale that menaced to hurl him into the void.

Seras adjusted her footing and protected him instantly, her eyes glancing toward the final expedition survivors vanishing into the Bone Hallows.

She breathed out gently.

They had made it.

Now only escape remained.

The tendril under them fractured, finer braided limbs ripping asunder under its own mass. Damon skidded over the fiery exterior, hands rasping on hot timber while venomous haze invaded his chest and blurred his sight with scarlet haze.

Seras locked eyes with him and offered a faint inclination.

Run.

Before the signal even ended, Damon disappeared, bolting along the disintegrating route.

Rexagon’s bellow pierced the haze.

"Return, vile wretch. Face me."

Blazes chased after, heavy with rot's odor.

Seras rocketed skyward in an explosive sonic burst, her edge slicing toward the armored plates encircling Rexagon’s throat. Metal clanged against hide in a resonant boom. She sensed the weapon pierce just a bit, encountered unyielding opposition like assaulting a peak, yet it sufficed to provoke wrath.

Rexagon whipped his head aside, flinging her spinning amid a pair of huge armored segments.

Seras possessed great might, yet she wasn't unbreakable. She might battle a seventh class foe, but slaying one proved a vastly different challenge. Rexagon held that very capability. Though diminished, he stayed out of her grasp.

Thus, she selected the sole gift within her power.

Time.

Her blade plunged into his armored plate, and she ascended, bursts of force erupting per heave as Rexagon’s frame warmed and blazed into raging inferno. She vaulted onto his crown precisely when the enormous cranium of the Bone Hallows emerged nearer amid the fumes.

Damon must have escaped.

She clenched her jaw as an immense talon arced down at her, darkness engulfing her completely. Should it connect, devastation would follow.

Then movement stirred within the vapors.

A silhouette charged ahead.

An immense blade arced wildly with abandon.

Nicholas’ blade shone brightly.

The blow smashed into Rexagon’s jaws amid a booming snap. A huge tooth ripped away, whirling airborne while Damon snatched it during descent, leveraging its mass and speed to fling himself at the colossal cranium underneath.

"Remember me, Rexagon," Damon yelled, his tone hoarse and bold. "I am Damon, son of Kadelas Moonveil of the Moon Glades."

Seras recognized the deception right away. She shoved off Rexagon’s crown and plunged toward the cranium, gliding through the vacant orbital cavity moments before draconic blaze consumed the timeless relic.

Rexagon’s bellow quivered with fury.

"Moon Glades... Moon Glades. You will pay, Damon son of Kadelas. And so will your people."