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 rather diminutive figure. Yet, in place of his lacking height, he compensated with unyielding resolve. While taller warriors endured, Nicholas persisted even further. As mightier heroes crumbled, Nicholas held firm. No soul dared to belittle Nicholas... that is, until the dragon Ashergon soared across the heavens. Fangs sharp as blades and claws fierce as lances defined him, and no force could halt Ashergon.

The diminutive Nicholas stepped forward to challenge the formidable Ashergon. In compensation for his slight build, he crafted an enormous, unwieldy blade.

Upon confronting Ashergon directly, he turned to dust unworthy of memory, abandoning a colossal sword that would fade into oblivion.

[Effect]

In some way, resentment must have fueled him. The blade's design holds an appealing allure. Though it appears tiny beside a behemoth, it harbors the might 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 shadow.

The Sword of Nicholas.

Against Ashergon, Nicholas had been mere gravel, incinerated in a flash. Still, who among mortals could boast of confronting such a beast? Damon held no knowledge of Nicholas, yet the truth endured. Even after demise, his weapon lingered.

Perhaps the initial sword differed, but this version had been shaped by the enigmatic deity. Nonetheless, it exuded a commanding essence.

It embodied the essence of a soul who gazed upon peaks and resolved to conquer them, one who never deemed himself insignificant.

Rexagon's immense presence bore down from above. His expansive wings appeared to eclipse the firmament, mist devouring the daylight until solely Damon's shadow twisted oddly underfoot, devoid of other shades.

Seras held her position steadfastly. Armor akin to a silvery valkyrie enveloped her form, segments clicking into alignment with subtle clinks of metal. In her grasp lay a translucent blade, its empty interior gradually brimming with crimson fluid that throbbed rhythmically.

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

The proclamation landed like a mallet, quaking the Hanging Paths while his exhalation scorched through 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 assailed the Evil Forest outright.

"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 roots of draconic pride. Rexagon's jaws ignited crimson, then transformed to an unnatural azure. The torrent that gushed from his throat challenged all logic.

It cascaded from his mouth akin to a torrent.

Wherever it contacted the tendrils, it seared through with blistering fervor that scorched the atmosphere, the ground under Damon's soles charring and splitting.

"Blue lava," Damon whispered, clenching tighter around Nicholas’ sword.

Poisonous vapors trailed in its wake, permeating the oppressive calm. Tendrils withered and perished while enormous, dwelling-like fruits hurtled down at Damon and Seras.

The colossal tendril supporting them started to dissolve.

Rexagon's ire fixed upon them, his enormous horn dipping to charge directly into their vantage. Seras reacted swiftly. She slashed her blade, crimson streaming from her nostrils as a scarlet curve ripped across the sky, echoing the cries and chants of countless fighters trapped in perpetual strife.

Rexagon parted his jaws. A pale shield materialized, devouring the initial assault. His talon swept next, deflecting the follow-up with a sky-rending shriek.

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

His talon crashed downward, shredding the vast tendril from its base with Damon and Seras desperately holding on.

Blue lava pursued them relentlessly.

Damon tumbled away, soles grinding against smoldering wood as the fiery surge hounded him. He plunged under the toppling tendril as it leaned precariously, then propelled himself with Airwalk against the void, ascending and clambering back atop the teetering 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 beat in a single mighty sweep.

A cosmic tempest burst forth. Damon teetered on the brink of falling as the whirlwind flayed his body, fine gashes blooming over his flesh. Crimson flowed unchecked as he staggered ahead and clutched Seras’ leg, steadying against the gale that menaced to hurl him into the void.

Seras adjusted her footing and covered him without pause, her eyes flicking toward the final expedition survivors vanishing into the Bone Hallows.

She breathed out gently.

They had succeeded.

Flight was all that lingered now.

The tendril under them fractured, lesser braided limbs rupturing as its bulk gave way. Damon skidded over the scorching exterior, hands abrading on crackling wood while venomous haze invaded his chest and blurred his sight with scarlet haze.

Seras locked eyes with him and offered a faint incline of her head.

Run.

Before the signal concluded, Damon faded from view, already dashing 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 a thunderous burst, her edge slicing toward the armored hide encircling Rexagon’s throat. Metal clanged against hide in a resounding impact. She sensed the weapon pierce faintly, encountered unyielding opposition like assaulting a cliff, yet it sufficed to ignite wrath.

Rexagon whipped his skull aside, flinging her into the gap between two enormous plates.

Seras possessed great strength, though not indestructibility. She could rival a seventh class foe, but slaying one proved a far cry. Rexagon held that capability. Even diminished, he surpassed her grasp.

Thus, she provided the sole gift within her power.

Time.

She thrust her blade into his plating and ascended, concussive blasts erupting per yank as Rexagon’s frame warmed and erupted into blazing inferno. She bounded onto his crown precisely as the colossal cranium of the Bone Hallows emerged nearer amid the fumes.

Damon had surely fled.

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

Then motion stirred within the vapors.

A silhouette surged ahead.

An oversized blade arced with wild vigor.

Nicholas’ weapon illuminated.

The blow smashed into Rexagon’s jaws with a booming snap. A enormous tusk dislodged, whirling airborne as Damon snatched it during descent, leveraging its mass and velocity to propel himself toward the vast cranium beneath.

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

Seras discerned the deception at once. She shoved off Rexagon’s crown and plunged toward the cranium, weaving through the vacant orbital just as draconic blaze consumed the primordial relic.

Rexagon’s howl quivered with fury.

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