The remarkably clear green water of the canal was tinted red when Vin landed inside with fresh wounds. Bruised and busted, he moaned in ache as he swam to shore where there were a more considerable number of Ravenours. It wasn't any better there. He could hear Maeve shouting but couldn't see her as hundreds of bodies were swarming.

A low groan escaped Vin as his wounds sent waves of agony through him, drenched and scowling at the cruel scene unfolding before him. There weren't any gaps to escape. He knew it wouldn't be long before the main army of Elves arrived to join the fray. Then, the odds of getting away would be near zero.

A sudden gush of pain electrified his body, and he clenched his ribs. 'They're broken...'

'It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,' his thoughts repeated in misery. Hell sang a melody of damnation around him, screams, followed by another detonation that sent mangled bodies flying in every direction. The noise heightened his adrenaline, so he was expectant when large blocks of concrete rubble and someone's remains blasted his way. Vin tried to quickly crawl out of its path, but the corpse still struck the edges of his body, bashing him back several paces where he crumbled onto the floor, and blood pooled from his mouth onto the hard stone.

He wallowed there, his body growing colder, his eyes flickering with intent to surrender. He faintly heard Maeve barking commands again. Then he perceived the terrified cry of a young girl, which prompted him to picture Less, Hughton's granddaughter. Vin's gut screamed for him to attempt to escape again. He could have just left everyone to their ruin... But- Not- They- All-

His brain, bombarded with various signals of loud noises, stenches of death, encumbering sights of demise, and constant pain, had short-circuited. Vin, just a callow human, became petrified. Entirely unmoving, just staring hollowly at the ensuing chaos before him. He remained in this state for almost a minute before the unfamiliar darkness bred when he was reborn in the Phoenix's nest awoke again. It reminded him what flaws led to and showed him the pathetic images of himself as he was carried around a swamp by the girl he admired. That uselessness.

'Root it out. Incinerate the weakness.'

Vin grunted in anguish, but a fresh anger now overwhelmed his body. It fueled him to his feet. He stomped forward a single step and boasted, 'I'm the strongest person here.'

'I'm not gonna escape and leave a kid for dead.' He pushed forward with pained grunts, passing through the mass, trying to trace where the holler came from and arrived at an unexpected resistance. He saw a glimpse of opposition against the Elves for the first time since the onslaught. Men and women picked up stone blocks from destroyed buildings and threw them at the knights as they continued their kill streaks. One exceptionally large Ravenour had the gull to dash up to one of the Elves and punch them with everything they had. He had to be commended for his bravery, but despite his power, there wasn't even a dent in the enemy's armor. Judging by how the knight continued to stab another winged individual, they didn't even notice they were struck. It was less than a bug bite.

Doom befell the brazen brute, who looked at their hand to see the bone had fractured. The handsome metal-plated figure they struck eventually pivoted to the person behind them and effortlessly raised their rapier despite having stones bouncing off their armor. They were about to swing when a dark shadow appeared behind him. The Elf turned, but too slow. A fierce fist slammed into their helmet, which flew off their head. It wasn't much, but someone had dealt damage. Vin recognized the towering man with sharp, bright red eyes, two sets of horns, and large wings. Kane, the King, was there to die with his people. He quickly threw two more powerful punches, then tore his restricting shirt off and blasted the knight with a haymaker that made them stumble back.

The Elf couldn't rebalance themself quickly enough after the surprise attack. A wink later, there was a flash of light as the sun ricocheted off steel, and their severed head was in the sky. The winner, Kane, stood with his outdated sword outreached proudly, covered with crimson, liquid victory. War cries erupted as the first Elf had been killed, but Vin was more surprised to see a Ravenour weapon in that place. He assumed the royal used his fist because his sword had disappeared like everyone else's, but he was wrong. The ruler made a powerful statement with his raw strength, which instantly rallied the people.

As for his old modeled sword with black fur around the hilt and why he kept it over something new and flashy- "An exception," Vin mumbled, remembering what he'd read in the Archival section of the Journal.

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[Updates:]

The rules that govern the Archival Diemonson beg all mortal belongings to be disintegrated upon entry. New [Equipment] has been added to the exception list.

[Equipment:]

Shadowvine Rope, Warbeast Saber, Siren's Call, Tail Blade, (New!)Skateboards

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

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Vin connected all the dots. Kane's weapon must have been a Warbeast Saber. At one point before their assimilation, Vulcorath, too, had a world leader who chose one item that'd become permitted in the Archival. Kane's past trauma in that dimension must have influenced him to prefer that ancient sword over something cutting-edge.

Nevertheless, choosing to quarrel instead of flee was idiocy. They were all fools for trying to fight a hopeless battle. The Elves in that memory were much more powerful, and all had weapons when they did not. Yet... as Vin made his way past, he silently rooted for the King as they began another fight.

Vin picked up a shattered stone slab, channeled his mana into it to form a sword, and pushed through the crowd. He eventually came across Less, who was perfectly unharmed. The reason she'd cried out was Hughton, who'd stood his ground in front of her, was bloodied with numerous wounds and one arm lost. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Just hastening to those two was harsh on Vin's body; he coughed up blood but promptly wiped it off his face before sprinting forward. He used the stone sword he'd shaped and readied to kill an Elven woman blitzing Hughton, but that long-haired creature sensed his approach and turned her attention to him before he could get close. Vin skidded to a stop before getting within range because he knew his injured body's reflexes wouldn't keep up with them.

Vin looked past the enemy at Hughton, and with a grim face, he stated, "You also look terrible..."

Hughton's gaze locked onto Vin, his expression grim and unwavering despite his injuries. He tore the cloth off his right sleeve to match the length of the left, which had been cut off with his arm, "Survival doesn't leave much room for appearances."

Vin nodded and observed his own injuries, adding, "It would be easier if we both just died."

What a thing to say to someone... Still, it wasn't entirely without reason. Vin tightened his grip on the weapon and raced toward the threat, advising the Warden, "Just make sure you get close to that guy first."

Hughton understood his objective and joined his self-destructive dash. The Elven knight stood tall and confident despite being attacked on two sides. She pulled her heavy, broad sword to her face and whispered prayer. She mumbled in the unfamiliar language before the weapon radiated a prismatic aura like a light showed through a diamond.

It was an error to assume only mages had ranged strikes. That Elven knight took a wide stance, then, with a mighty swing of their arm, discharged a crescent slash of light that traveled too fast for Vin's wrecked body to react to. The metal-plated woman's long, pointed ears twitched as they heard Hughton's footsteps near. Then they circled and sent off another whip of rays. The magic attack tore Vin in half, and a blink later, Hughton dropped as well.

Less became terrifyingly quiet after her guardian collapsed. Then, she clenched her head before shrieking, "No, no, no, not again!" The Elf peeked at her, and their weapon illuminated dangerously again.

Vin forced Hughton back to life, importing him into existence with a flaming entrance. The Warden initially stumbled slightly in disorientation. However, he found his balance, sped up, and lept at the Elf. The flawless, long-eared creature batted her feminine eyelashes as they pivoted from the child to the naked warrior. She redirected her blade and thrust forward, meeting Hughton halfway and piercing his abdomen with another lethal blow. The Warden had seconds before he'd die again, but before that, he grasped the metal-plated woman and hung on tightly.

"Good job," Vin communicated. His own corpse flared, and he blasted forth with a fresh form into a shaky jog. He picked up the stone sword and continued his dash. After resurrecting so much, he became good at quickly acclimating to each new body.

The Elf couldn't react so readily while Hughton was gripping them, and Vin swung his stone blade in a barbaric hook at the woman. That shining knight bore the weight of the Ravenour on her and jolted back several paces. Not far out of reach, Vin took a second swing but was hindered by the unfamiliarity of using a sword, utilizing it more like a baseball bat than a saber.

Whatever. He just had to stall. The moment Hughton completely died, Vin revived him, catching that Elven fighter in a beautiful explosion of purple fire.

The long-haired woman's armor immediately began to melt. No matter how much they danced in panic, the fire did not quell. In fact, one could tell by how she recklessly swung their weapon around that she knew it was impossible to elude. Vin tried to deal a finishing blow amid that person's hysteria. Still, even burning alive, they managed to fend off his attack and inflected him with a deep gash on his thigh.

Past Ravenour's had burned to ashes in seconds seconds. However, after half a minute, the knight was still moving. Their metal saber glowed, and they attempted to steal even more lives before perishing. Their attacks were less precise because their hearing and sight were destroyed, making them easier to dodge. Regardless, that fight had already been too strenuous, and Vin wanted to avoid dying unnecessarily. He ducked below a wide swing, then wackamoled up and delivered a crude strike of his own. His blow was deflected, but he immediately tossed the stone sword over the Elven woman's head to Hughton.

The moment the expert brute caught the weapon, he launched, becoming just as fierce as the night he'd single-handedly killed the three intruders in jail. He had a mastery over swords that Vin couldn't even fathom. Swinging in a flurry of thrust and swings with incredible speed. That dispute lasted a few more seconds until the timer hit one minute, and the Elven knight succumbed to the ruthless blaze and plunged to the floor.

It was over. Vin and Hughton had won, but that victory felt hollow- more like defeat. Of course, it did. Neither of them stood a chance against that knight in a fair fight. They were only able to prevail because they relied on an outside entity's power and sacrificed themselves.

It was miserable. Victory had never felt more empty. And even worse, that was just the beginning of their hardship.