Chapter 501: Smutched Iron
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Lennon 'Bladed Monster' Hull
Spinning through the air, I rise into the sky, momentarily halting my momentum with a Slash to catch itself on my sleeve. The redirection of my movement allows me to stare directly down with the winds racing over me.
The God of Rivers, a shifting, flowing entity of cutting waves, rises from the earth to meet me. Manoga, the Pointed Alluvion, the Killing Wave, is dressed simply in a long sashed robe and dark sleeves as he comes to me, our eyes meeting as he boasts a similar blade from his waist, only it is made out of formless water.
The sudden wind cuts out the screams from below, leaving a deafening silence as we prepare to clash again. Manoga surges toward me, his body a torrent of deadly currents. We collide in midair, my blade meeting its liquid form.
For a moment, I have the upper hand, Dia possessing greater power and speed, but the angle is slightly off. And that minor error... is everything for a fluid. Manoga's blade glides around mine before scaring the air with droplets on its way to my neck.
Frantic, I wrench my sword through the air with enough momentum to just barely put its handle between Manoga's waves. I feel my Godshape pressed against my chin and collar before the exchange.
The impact sends me reeling across the sky, and I crash into the roof of a building, skidding across its coarse stone surface. I catch myself just before falling off, gripping the edge tightly with Dia.
Climbing up, I look up at the God, its form undulating with the power of a raging river. He steps down to me, walking through the very air on tiny, watery steps floating in the air. While looking down at me, he speaks for the first time, his voice shivering like a mocking hiss.
"I have heard much about you, Lennon Hull—slayer of men, demons, and Gods alike. You harbor no creed, but with your blade, you can butcher. You are the last monster your race will ever give birth to. After you, there will only be peace. No more slaughterers. I am Mother's Executioner. She sent me here. For you. And you only."
Manoga sneers at me, lifting his chin while staring downward at me, hardly willing to give me a simple glance. I push myself to my feet, feeling the coarse stone beneath my boots. Then, I chuckle at his words, patting down my clothes so that I meet this being properly.
"Well, I'm glad I'm so famous. But I haven't heard of you before. Are you some lesser God? Unimportant? Kaisen, the God of War couldn't kill me. Do you think you have a chance?"
It's almost comical as Manoga snickers against me, having a defense for my words. While he speaks, we circle each other in this tiny room, just at the end of the inches that our blades can reach.
"Hmm. Is that so? I heard from Kaisen that you barely survived the exchange, losing one of your strongest in the process. I'm no God of War, but the momentous Floods have killed just as many as your mortal hands could imagine. Still, I am more than death and destruction, unlike you."
The God of Rivers laughs, a sound like rushing water crashing against rocks. Then, he points his blade at me, finalizing the word of 'you', and ending the words that shall be traded. I stare into his eyes, and he looks into mine.
The Last Monster, huh? I kind of like the ring to it. Nonetheless, he's right. After this war, whether win or lose, there will never be another like me. There will never be another born in war and strife and forced to fight every second of their life.
If we win, there will be peace. Sure, there will still be conflicts, but I'm not foolish enough to believe things will be all roses, but it won't be this bad. Furthermore, none will be beaten as I have; none will have the drive as I have to defy the Gods.
And if we lose.... the Mother Below will compel all to be peaceful, making it so all follow her twistest sense of love and morality. That too, is an end to a path such as mine.
In this world, Monsters are those who create their own paths, donning the darkness of the ocean instead of the radiance of a lighthouse. They reject all, using their will and body as experiments, paving new grounds. It applies to those creatures in the chittering dark, but it truly only speaks of those who can step out of that darkness and into the light, both human and not. I can only think of two off the top of my head, Vincent Harvey and Remington Shaw. Beyond them, no one else truly has earned the title, as even Louis Fern does not quite match up to them. To be the Last Monster...
I grip my sword tighter, the familiar weight grounding me. It is poundage I've known for more than a decade despite only recently shaping the Claymore. I wonder... who is better? This is what it shall come down to. Manoga and I have roughly the same speed and strength, but what will matter is who is the better swordsman.
The God of Floods?
Or the Last Monster?
My legs tighten as the muscles reach their pinnacles. Then, we begin. I launch myself back into the fray, using the building's edge as a springboard and exploding it in the process into a haze of rubble. My blade meets the God's form once more, and we dance a deadly waltz in the sky above the city as I force him into the air.
Manoga lashes out with waves of cutting water, each strike more powerful than the previous as he redirects my own momentum, preventing a scratch on his body. His retaliations possess all the might of my strikes in addition to his.
And they come like a rushing tide of water.
I deflect and dodge as best as I can, but the sheer force of the attacks sends me reeling again and again. My muscles scream in protest, and so does my soul, but I cannot lose.
With a kick from another building's facade, I counterattack, my blade slicing through the air with precision as I follow the first strike into many.
The clash begins in midair once more, my blade meeting the flowing sword against mine. Each strike is precise, calculated, a web death between the tall buildings of Primary. I parry a slash of cutting water upward, feeling the force vibrate through my arms as the sky is cleaved. Manoga counters with a surge of liquid fury, but I twist my body, dodging the attack and retaliating with a swift upward slash.
In the sky, we are free to unleash our full potential, our movements unbound by the earth below us. With my soul keeping me in the air and moving me all over, I strike with Dia non-stop, my sword a blur of motion.
Manoga responds in kind, the waves of his own Claymore shifting and undulating to meet my blade. Each strike I land is redirected, and the momentum is turned back against me, either drawing more blood or pushing me further away from a win. Manoga's mastery of a flood's flow is perfect, and it leaves me at a loss. He's using his Divinhood, but it's so bizarre... it's like...
I know. He's able to manipulate momentum, the literal manifestation of strength. That's how he's so good!
We descend rapidly, our battle moving to the ground with one such failed match-up for me. My boots hit the cobblestone streets, and I push off immediately, launching more Slashes upward, running across the city.
The city trembles with each clash of ours, buildings shuddering and splitting open as we move around and sometimes through them like a natural disaster. I swing my sword in a wide arc, aiming to cleave through Manoga's core, but he dissolves into the strike, reforming just behind my shoulder with a slash that I barely send into the earth.
However, that shunts me into the ground face-first, breaking through the ground and into the sewers below. Flipping around, I practically eat another slash to the stomach as Dia protects my vitals.
The impact of the second strike breaks straight through the sewers, shattering some of my bones and landing me amongst broken skulls and rotten clothes.
I glance around in surprise at the catacombs around me. I didn't know Onyx Gate had them. And... these bones are far older than a millennium. Right. Wyatt told me Onyx Gate was a city before the First, before the Devil's rise.
Rolling to the side, I evade another flood of water, the waves digging deep into the earth and vanishing beneath. Then, I stand, bearing Dia toward the God once more while soaked to my leaking insides. Without a pause, our swords cross once more.
The narrow passages limit our movements, but I use the confined space to press my attack, my sword a constant blur of motion. Manoga responds with equal ferocity, his water slicing through stone and shadow alike. I feel the walls closing in, the weight of the earth pressing down on us, but I do not relent, no matter how many walls I'm put through or the bones I break. Again and again, we meet and I end on the losing side. He's... too good. Where? Where did he learn how to fight!? No answers to my questions come as I'm forced to place all my attention to survive.
And as the fight lengthens, the light from above vanishes, leaving me with the God alone, in the dark. It causes several errors from my side, earning more splotches of blood on the hallowed grounds, but I don't fall. I stumble. I trip. I eat mud and dirt. But I always get back up.
The darkness of the catacombs amplifies my senses as we have a brief respite, Manoga's light breathing audible in the lightlessness. I hear every drop of water and feel every shift in the air with his lungs. The leather of my Claymore is omnipresent in my false hands, and I enjoy it.
I enjoy it far too much. What was it before? I wanted to become better. A true guardian, just as Edmund wanted me to be. Not just some Monster...
But in this gloaming...
I think it's time I accept reality. That's just not who I am. Manoga. Kaisen. Eli. Maddox. Hell, even old Marshall knew it. Edmund... did, too. He was... he just didn't want to believe what he saw so clearly.
I'm nothing but a Monster in human skin, loathing every second that my heart isn't beating in a battle. Because... that's the only time I'm alive. Without a blade in my hand... I'm dead.
Without an opponent to overcome... there is no reason worth living.
A growl from my hands affirms my thoughts as Dia believes the same. Right, girl. Together.
Squinting my eyes, I find Manoga in the dusk, barely able to sense him through sight. But... it is my everything that paints the picture within my mind. Sound, smell, taste, and touch meld to create a sphere of understanding. Manoga is shaking his head and reaching behind him, where his long and bushy hair coves his back. I hear the clack of something and a scratching noise, that of a blade being unsheathed.
As he does so, I realize how similar we are. He uses his Divinity in his bladework, becoming an unstoppable force and an immovable object all at once. As for me... I've only started to imbue Perfection into my art. His sword style... is born of his Momentum.
"You're not a God of Floods. You're a God of Momentum. You could never be the God of something so mundane."
An unmistakable smile breaks out in the dark as the glint of the newly drawn blade is revealed to me. It is a familiar blade. A... terrifying one. One that... I never thought I'd see again.
"Yes. That is true. And it is time we end this battle. I have been alongside Mother for twenty millennia, her longest-serving God. As such, she sends me to kill those she sees as the greatest worries. And you, Last Monster, are that worry made manifest. You humans are quite the artisans, but in the end... one's craftiness only matters if they have the strength to wield their creations."
I don't have much room to debate Manoga, as I'm not all that shrewd. Sure, I've made some tricks here or there in battles, but I know what he means. He believes himself so far above me that no trick will lead to my victory.
Manoga wields Demonsbane as his fluid form becomes tinted with a shadowed crimson, fusing with the legendary blade. He falls into a stance similar to one of Edmund's when he practiced with two swords, one elbow near his head with the blade pointed toward me and the other lower, aimed upward to compensate for the first.
Momentum is such a grand Concept to hold. It is no wonder Manoga is so old. So... well-versed in the blade. I'm sure he's helped Her conquer dozens of civilizations.
And yet... They've never met me before. They've never... truly met me.
I raise my Claymore, matching Manoga's stance perfectly, even tossing aside the techniques I've fostered my whole life. I open my eyes in the catacombs to their fullest, taking in what little light that remains. For half a decade, I've been called the greatest swordsman under the horizon.
If I cannot do this, no one can.
"What are you doing, human? Attempting to copy a God's art? Foolish."
I do not reply, not seeing the point. It is a fool's errand to imitate a sword style at first glance, especially in the dark and when I'm already wounded. But...
I am not imitating. I am stealing. With just my eyes, I shall rip the essence of his blades and force it into my own.
You would be proud, Edmund. Your work of art held against a God for twelve whole minutes. But in the end... you were just a man, not a Monster. And... I'll always admire you for that. You had many changes to take the path, but... you knew better. Sometimes, it's easier not to be me.
Two feet hit the tunnel's bottom, littered with skeletons simultaneously. Our arms reach out with our steel, mine solidified from my soul and his a peerless blade augmented by his very Godhood. We both stab straight for the other's right eye, not caring for what might come.
Our speeds are identical. The exact same impact lies where our boots hit the ground. Even our grips mirror one another on our weapons. The only difference is...
Our blades, and ourselves.
Manoga diverts from the path first, twisting his arm to contort his blade against mine while the second sword springs backward. Here it is. He's using his Divinhood. I can feel it. The energy being drawn from me and into him.
So, I let go of my singular focus, allowing him to take it without a struggle, unlike at any other time. My Claymore rises with his as all my momentum is stolen, and he continues to cut me down in one sheer step.
I see the hints of what to do, the subtle shifts that guide me toward Perfection. And yet, I deny them. They are not what I want. Simply doing so burns a hole into my skull, but it is not my truth.
The truth is, I am a Monster. No path shall ever simply open itself to me. I have to break them open. Any other way is unacceptable. No quarter. Not even for the cosmos.
The blade falls as I stare at it, letting Demonsbane's awful edge glide toward me.
I am not fighting against Manoga; I am fighting with him, within the flow of the river that he embodies. I have to play this differently. I cannot fight him like an enemy. After all, there are no rivals to me. There are only obstacles and triumphs for me to take.
Before the blade enters my skin, I allow my eyes to meet Manoga's finding the grin on his face to be pitiful. I can see the Darklight hidden in his pupils, and yet, he doesn't use it.
So prideful are these Gods that some will die without using all their gifts.
Then, I look down at the Claymore and catch the blade with my Dominion, my very soul acting as a left hand to meet Demonsbane. The impact roars through my body and soul, cleaving parts of me in twain, both physical and not, but I stop the blade.
"What!?"
The left side of my body is barely hanging, the soul damaged to the core. I can no longer wield my blade with two hands, even if formless. But that is fine.
With every ounce of my control, I contort my muscles and soul, taking the impact as I writhe and pivoting all the momentum into my right hand, which holds Dia. Then, and only then, do I strike.
Dia falls so swiftly that Manoga cannot react before his left arm also vanishes. Now, we mirror each other again.
There is one big difference, however.
I'm getting better. And that will continue.
But... I smell a lick of something in the air as a spark ignites in the darkness, revealing a horrifying figure in the dark.
Behind Manoga, a pale-skinned man with ash all over his body and clotting his hair hoists a scythe over his shoulder. Due to his height, even hunched, the scythe taps against the ceiling. My body shudders at the sight of the God beneath the city.
Already? He's here? How!?
"Did you miss me? I snuck all the way here just for you. Beat it, Manoga. He's mine."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone