I sat cross-legged in a quiet corner of my room in the Moonless Tavern. Two swords lay before me on the threadbare carpet: my newly acquired iron sword, and the twisted remains of its predecessor that we'd salvaged from the sewers. The faint scent of rust and rat blood still clung to the broken blade, with only a single fragment remaining attached to the hilt. My stomach growled, reminding me I'd been at this for hours, but I couldn't stop now. Not when I was close to understanding what had gone wrong.

The memories of the sewer battle flashed through my mind. The rush of power when I channeled Spellblade had been intoxicating. The spell had transformed my mundane iron sword into something that could defeat the rat king. But the cost... I picked up the broken sword to inspect it.

Inspect: Damaged Iron Sword Status: Broken Durability: 0/100 Note: Severe structural damage from magical overload. Beyond repair.

If I wanted to avoid spending all my money on swords, I would need to learn to control my skills better.

I took a look at my skills again

Spellblade: Channel mana to imbue your weapon with an elemental spell Blood Weapon: Self-inflict bleeding status, perfect for giving your weapon a grimdark feel Dark Aura: Create an intimidating aura of darkness. Great for dramatic effect

I snorted at the descriptions. Seriously, what kind of skills were these? Spellblade was potent, when it wasn’t busy devasting my equipment. The other two? They read like flavor text from some edgelord's character sheet.

I stared at the broken blade again. It had shattered cleanly, with cracks lines along its edge. But something about those fracture patterns nagged at me. I held the blade closer to the light, tracing the network of cracks with my finger. They weren't the chaotic spider-web pattern you'd expect from metal stress. Instead, they spread out regularly, branching and dividing like...

"A river delta," I muttered, mind racing as I mapped the pattern. The cracks formed a perfect dendritic system, each tributary splitting off at precise angles. It was too ordered to be random damage.

That's when it clicked. In a river delta, water carved those channels by following paths of least resistance. These cracks... they weren't just damage. They were a map.

I stared at the fractured metal with new eyes. "If water flows through a river," I whispered, an idea taking shape, "what exactly flows through these?"

Time to experiment.

I cleared space on the worn wooden table beneath the room's single window, careful not to knock over the half-empty healing potion. The dim light from the candles gave me just enough illumination to work with.

I sketched out the crack pattern onto a notepad. Then, I drew my new iron blade.

Spellblade

"Start with the absolute minimum," I muttered, carefully reaching for my mana. The problem was, I had no real reference for what "minimum" meant. I touched the blade with what I thought was a tiny amount of mana. The steel immediately flared up.

"Damn it." I pulled back instantly, checking the blade for damage. No visible stress fractures, but that had been far too much. The sword felt warm to the touch.

Inspect: Iron Sword Status: Slight stress damage Durability: 87/100

I closed my eyes, trying to conceptualize the mana flow. It was like trying to control a fire hose by feel. I needed better precision. What was the smallest amount I could possibly...

The candle flame flickered and caught my attention. That's what I needed - not a bonfire, but the smallest possible flame. A single point of light.

I touched the sword again, trying to imagine the smallest possible amount of mana. Like reaching for a single grain of sand instead of grabbing a handful.

Nothing happened.

Good. I increased it fractionally, imagining that grain of sand becoming two.

Still nothing.

Another fraction. Like adding one more grain.

The barest shimmer ran along the blade's edge, like moonlight on water. The effect was so subtle I might have missed it if I hadn't been watching for it. I tried to memorize exactly how this level of flow felt. It was like balancing a drop of water on a blade's edge – the slightest tremor would send it spilling over.

I closed my eyes, trying to burn this exact sensation into my memory. The mana flow felt like trying to balance a single droplet of morning dew on a spider's web – precarious, delicate, but with a strange sort of stability if you got it just right. One wrong twitch and it would all collapse.

When I opened my eyes again, I added another grain of mana. Hairline traces of light began appearing in the metal, spreading like frost across a window pane. I held up my earlier sketch for comparison, squinting in the dim candlelight. The patterns were similar, but the sketch showed a more complex network of branches, like I was only seeing the main tributaries without their smaller streams. The blade's internal structure was there, but it felt... incomplete. Like a puzzle missing half its pieces.

I continued to add more mana. More lines appeared, branching naturally from the first set. The blade started to glow, becoming more responsive, like an instrument finding the right pitch.

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Each increment revealed new patterns spiraling through the metal. At 10% of my mana, the blade flared with sudden brightness. The network of lines reached its full development, matching my earlier sketch down to the smallest branch.

This confirmed my theory, the lines were illustrating the internal structure of the blade. Like water finding its way through cracks in stone, mana sought to flow through natural paths in the metal’s structure.

Inspect: Iron Sword Status: Growing structural fatigue Durability: 71/100 Note: Mana saturation at critical threshold

Ten percent. That was the iron sword's hard limit. Push beyond that, and the excess mana would flood those delicate channels, shattering the blade from within. Like trying to force a river through a drinking straw.

My gaze shifted to the Nightsky Blade resting beside me. I lifted it carefully.

Spellblade

Starting with the same minimal flow I'd perfected on the iron sword, I channeled a single grain of mana. The response was immediate - where the iron blade had required coaxing, the Nightsky Blade practically leapt to life. Threads of light traced through the dark metal, but unlike the iron sword's rigid tributaries, these patterns swirled and danced like auroras.

The words of the master smith Doran came to mind. Embedded ancient runes... enhances magical conductivity by a hundred percent. So this is what he meant. The same trickle of mana that had barely illuminated the iron sword was creating a light show in the legendary blade.

I continued to pour more mana in. Where the iron sword's channels were like rivers carved in stone, the Nightsky blade's pathways felt alive. As I added in more mana, the patterns didn't just branch – they evolved, forming intricate fractals that seemed to fold in on themselves.

"So this is what legendary means…," I muttered, holding both blades side by side. The iron sword had nearly shattered at 10% mana input, its channels strained to their limit. But at the same power level, the Nightsky blade was still eagerly drinking in my mana, its patterns forming new configurations that flowed fluidly. The blade felt cool to the touch despite the energy coursing through it, as if it was designed to channel far greater powers than this simple test.

I sketched the patterns quickly, trying to capture their movement. The iron sword's diagram looked like a tree branch, rigid and predictable. The Nightsky's looked more like frost forming on a window, free forming and evolving. The legendary blade wasn't just providing channels for mana – it was actively shaping the flow, guiding it into more efficient patterns.

No wonder the iron sword broke. It tried to force mana through fixed pathways, while the Nightsky blade could adapt its internal structure to accommodate the flow. It wasn't about durability – it was about flexibility. Like the difference between pouring water through a pipe and having it flow through a living circulatory system.

I stared at my sketches, mind racing. The mana flow patterns kept drawing my eye. They looked almost organic, like veins in a leaf. Or veins in...

My eyes drifted to my wrist. If mana could flow through these channels... Blood was just another kind of flow, wasn't it?

Warning: Concerning thoughts detected. Please seek help if experiencing self-harm ideation

I snorted at the system message. "It's for science," I mumbled. One quick, careful nick on my fingertip - just enough to draw a single drop of blood. I held my breath as it fell, watching it strike the iron sword's edge with scientific precision.

Blood Weapon activated

The blood traced the same patterns I'd mapped with mana. It didn't just coat the blade, it penetrated the metal on a molecular level, seeping into microscopic imperfections I hadn't even known existed. Where mana had felt like forcing water through rigid pipes, blood seemed to seep into the metal itself. Each crimson droplet seemed to know exactly where to go, following paths that mirrored the mana channels through the metal's structure.

Blood Weapon Effect Enhanced: Iron Sword is absorbing blood Material Response: Anomalous blood absorption detected Channel Formation: Enhanced conductivity in existing pathways

"Now that's interesting," I muttered.

I added more blood to it, this time with a thin cut on my palm. The blood flowed freely down the blade.

Status Effect: Minor Bleeding (1 minute) HP -0.3/s

The patterns I'd seen with mana repeated themselves, but now in crimson fractals that seemed to pulse with my heartbeat. The blade felt alive in my hands like it was trying to sync with my cardiac system. I felt a surge, but it was different from Spellblade. Instead of draining outward, it felt like the blade was creating a circuit between my blood and my blade.

As blood flowed down the blade, I noticed something else. The blade felt... hungry. Each drop of blood that disappeared into the metal made it feel a fraction heavier.

"Just a little more data," I told myself, even as I wrapped my hand around the bare steel. The rational part of my brain noted this was probably a terrible idea but I felt compelled to feed its hunger.

Status Effect: Bleeding (1 hour) HP -0.5/s Warning: Self-harm detected. Please seek help

Blood gushed out of my palm, painting my blade red. The blade vibrated in my arm as it drank.

Iron Sword Temporary Enhancement: Blood-Forged (Attack +10)

I understood this spell now. It wasn't about making the weapon look edgy; it's using blood as a catalyst to temporarily reinforce the blade's structure. A version of Spellblade that used HP instead of mana.

Curious, I gave the blade an experimental swing. The blood coating the edge seemed to ripple, and a thin crimson line traced through the air where the blade had passed. My eyes widened as the line hung there for a moment before dissipating.

I made another careful swing, focusing on the sensation. This time I could feel it, the blood flowing from my bloody palm, guided down the channels of the blade. Each swing left that same crimson trail, like a painter's brush through the air.

Skill learnt: Bloodedge

I forced myself to release the blade, suddenly aware of how light-headed I felt. My hands were trembling slightly - blood loss or excitement, I wasn't sure which.

I glanced at my HP bar. The drain was significant, but not unmanageable. "Finally," I muttered, watching the blood-enhanced patterns pulse along my blade, "a skill that won't bankrupt me with repair costs."

I reached for my medical supplies, wrapping my bloodied hand in bandages. If I was going to be using my own blood as a weapon enhancement, I should probably stock up on health potions.

Now time to visit a witch.