Chapter 308: The Fang Of Fraxinus
The crowds cheered for Frost Rim as the Northern Gate opened and Nalla stepped out from the tunnel’s shadow. The blaring light of the sun flooded her vision and it took her a moment to recognize the young man standing across the hot sands of the arena. His bright scarlet skin stood out clearly from his pale white clothes.
“Gilgard Morrigan…” Nalla muttered her opponent’s name.
She gripped Votum’s handle and hauled the giant sword across the arena, its black glass-like blade dragging in the sand.
As Gilgard watched Nalla walk closer and closer, he found himself smiling. It was odd seeing a drow, barely over 5 ft tall, dragging a sword behind her that was as tall and almost as wide as herself. If it wasn’t for personally witnessing the destruction Nalla had left in the wake of her previous match, Gilgard would have thought the short, thin-frame drow posed no threat whatsoever.
Gilgard replaced his smile for a solemn expression and bowed to his opponent, “I greet you, Nalla of Frost Rim. It is an honor to duel against Frost Rim’s finest.”
As he bowed his head, Nalla noticed the hilt of a sword behind his shoulder. The grip was wrapped in fine burgundy leather and its pommel was gold in the shape of a lizard with its jaw wide open, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. The crossguard was a simple stone black with a single sigil etched at its center.
Nalla had heard many stories of a legendary sword with the same description. She narrowed her eyes, “That sword, is that…?”
Gilgard was surprised, he had heard Nalla rarely spoke to anyone, even her opponents. He counted himself among the lucky few and obliged her curiosity. He reached behind his shoulder and pulled out the claymore sword. Its blade was a giant fang of pale white bone with black veins streaking across. The blade was 4 ft long and 1 ft wide with a slight curve to its serrated edge.
“So it’s true, you really do have it; Feather, the Fang of Fraxinus,” Nalla muttered grimly. “It seems the Grand Warlord of the East intends to make certain House Morrigan wins the tourney.”
Gilgard raised Feather and stared at its milky white color. “Do you know where the sword gets its name?”
“...They say despite the blade’s size it weighs as much as a feather.”
“Only for the wielder, for everyone else it feels as if they're being hit by a giant hammer.” Gilgard glanced at the giant blade behind Nalla. “I take it your blade doesn’t share the same quality.”
“It’s a little late to gather information about my weapon, don’t you think?” Nalla said bluntly.
“Just an observation,” he said easily. “Do you know who Fraxinus was?”
“Some poor bastard probably.”
“No,” Gilgard chuckled, “No, Fraxinus was a blood-wyrm, one of the greatest and most vicious to have ever prowled the Scarlet Realm. The local villages viewed Fraxinus as an angry god that fed on their livestock whenever the whim crossed his mind. You see, Fraxinus didn’t kill out of hunger, he killed out of sheer enjoyment. The beast liked the sound of screams and the scent of fear.”
“Then is that… Is that really his fang?” Nalla stared at Feather’s blade.
Gilgard smiled, “There were many who feared Fraxinus, but there was a warlord who did not. He was an orc, said to be twice as strong and twice as cunning as any of his kin, and he feared no man nor beast. Against all warnings, the warlord rallied his loyal army and attacked Fraxinus in his lair. For three days they fought and for three days Fraxinus slaughtered countless orcs and fed on their corpses. But on the fourth day, Fraxinus finally succumbed to his wounds, and the warlord dealt the final killing blow.”
Gilgard ran his hand across Feather’s bone white blade, “The few orc soldiers left alive praised the warlord and tore out Fraxinus’ greatest fang right from his very bloody jaw. No one remembers the names of the brave soldiers who fought and died. People don’t even remember the name of the warlord. After all these centuries people only really remember one thing, Fraxinus the dreadful blood-wyrm.”
Gilgard shook his head, “In truth, the warlord was a coward who sent his men to die against a ravenous beast. The only ‘brave’ thing the warlord did was slaughter an already dying beast. People forgot my ancestor’s name because he wasn’t worthy.”
Gilgard pointed his sword at Nalla, “You look at me and all you see is my family’s ancestral sword. But I know my worth, I know who I am, and I know I am more than the blade I wield. The question is, are you more than the blade you cannot even carry?”
Nalla’s ashen grey eyes grew cold, but she said nothing, she simply relaxed her shoulders and spread her legs apart in a battle stance.
The Herald Tower’s horn resounded across the arena, “LET THE 10TH MATCH OF THE CHALLENGE OF SPELL & STEEL… BEGIN!!!”
Gilgard pulled Feather back and pointed his other hand at Nalla. Blue lightning crackled at his fingertips.
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If he had learned one thing about Nalla’s duel against Heather was that Nalla had only used her sword at the very end of her fight. Despite her sword’s power she had chosen to only use it when she was about to be defeated. Why?
His conclusion was simple. It was the same reason why she dragged her giant sword everywhere. Like many powerful weapons, her sword must drain incredible amounts of mana. She most likely couldn’t wield it for more than a few moments at a time.
The way to victory was simple; force his opponent to use her sword and waste all her energy.
He poured blue mana into his palm. Nalla raised her orichalcum sword up like a shield and hid behind it. Gilgard fired the lightning bolt from his outstretched fingers. The crackling blue energy surged through the air like a spear and struck the black blade. The lightning screeched across the sword and scattered into small tendrils before it disappeared into nothingness.
“Eh?” Gilgard blinked in surprise. The storm spell had been dispersed. It reminded him of Beatrix’s Clarity magic. Except Nalla was a tri-manifold, not a true blue mage.
What the hell is that sword of hers? Gilgard smiled shakily. The way to victory seemed simple enough, but he’d be an idiot to think it would be easy.
Nalla suddenly stepped out from behind her sword and flicked her fingers out in two quick motions. Two twin funnels of flame flared to life around her like a curled pair of snakes.
That’s not an adept spell! he thought with surprise.
The flame snakes lashed out at him. He jumped to the side and rolled out of their way, but the flames chased after him. Gilgard quickly got to his feet and ran in the opposite direction. Nalla flicked her hand again; the flame snakes abruptly changed directions and followed him.
This doesn’t make sense! Beatrix saw Nalla’s mana flow, she’s not a master mage. The only way she could cast a master flame spell is if–
The snakes opened their blazing jaws wide and snapped at Gilgard. He slashed Feather at them, but the sword passed through the fire harmlessly.
“Of course,” Gilgard muttered under his breath and dashed away. He began writing red sigils in the air as he dodged between the snakes’ attacks.
Nalla’s not a master. Which means she is just incredibly skilled in flame spells. Though she never showed this level of proficiency when fighting Heather. In other words–
Gilgard finished writing the ward spell. The red sigils gathered together in a string of arcane magic and formed a red dome around him. The flames battered and splashed off the dome harmlessly.
Nalla released the flame spell and stared at him in silence.
She’s holding back. She’s always been holding back, testing the limits of her opponent. She only responds with more power when needed. So, if her flame spells won’t work then she’ll…
Nalla channeled brown mana into her body. A bronze sheen wrapped around her grey-blue skin as the vigor magic strengthened her muscles.
Gilgard glared at the drow and gripped Feather’s hilt tight. What are you waiting for?
Nalla picked up her sword and ran at Gilgard. She raised her sword up high and slashed down on the red wards. The arcane sigils flared for a split second and shattered apart like glass. Gilgard channeled Brown into his own muscles and met her sword with Feather. The two giant swords clashed in a shower of red sparks.
He stumbled back from the heavy blow. Nalla didn’t retreat, but jumped forward in a whirl of attacks. Gilgard grimaced as he parried each strike. Every time Feather blocked her blade he felt painful reverberations stab into his arms from the sheer power of her sword.
Gilgard tried to counterattack but every time he attempted even a simple riposte Nalla would switch her stance, parry his sword away, and follow up with another strike of her own. She pushed her advantage without a single flicker of emotion on her face.
Her fluid motions reminded him of Diane’s swordplay.
This girl, Gilgard clenched his teeth, she’s a sword master too!
He couldn’t win like this, sooner or later he’d make a mistake and she would cleave him in half. Gilgard channeled his brown mana into his legs and vaulted away with all the force he could muster.
The crowd oohed and aahed as he jumped two dozen feet away. Nalla didn’t hesitate and darted after him. She was already on him by the time he landed.
Nalla pulled her sword back for an attack, her eyes cold with determination. Gilgard smiled ferociously. Black shadows exploded from his silhouette and enveloped them both in a dome of swirling darkness.
Gilgard released his vigor spell and channeled more black mana into his eyes, enhancing his sight. The night vision spell was usually only reserved for master black mages, but Gilgard had worked to learn this particular spell for situations just like this.
Judging from the way Nalla stood still in the dark, her expertise in spell casting was limited to her orange spells. Yet as he stared at Nalla’s motionless stance, he was suddenly reminded of his duel against Veronica. Instead of attacking, he unconsciously took several steps back.
Nalla raised her sword high. A cold shiver ran down Gilgard’s spine. She slammed the black sword into the ground. A vibration of energy echoed out from the orichalcum sword in a wave of power. The dark dome exploded in shadowy tatters.
Gilgard watched his spell fall apart with a sense of surreal disbelief. I was wrong.
The drow’s sword wasn’t like his sister’s clarity magic. Clarity magic dispelled other mages’ magic. This. This was different. The black sword did not dispel magic, it ripped the magic apart with overwhelming power.
Nalla suddenly began to wobble. She quickly straightened her legs and took a deep breath. Blood trickled down her nose and she wiped it away with the back of her forearm.
Gilgard narrowed his eyes, The sword is taking a toll on her… Still, at this rate, she’ll kill me long before she falls.
Feather abruptly began to tremble in the palm of his hand. He glanced at the bone sword, taken aback.
His eyes widened, “It can’t be… Feather, you actually want to fight?”
The black veins streaking across the fang turned blood-red in response.
Gilgard’s lips formed a half-crazed smile, “I haven’t seen you this excited since my grandmother’s time.” He gripped Feather’s hilt with both hands, “But I’m not one to complain.”
Scarlet energy leaked out from the Feather’s blade and began to creep over Gilgard’s arm, forming a chainmail-like pattern over his skin.
Nalla frowned, “Red scales…? What… What is that?”
“The Fang of Fraxinus.”