NEW SOUL WEAPON
While Lynne was relaxingly meditating in his room, the rest of the world was in chaos. With the execution day drawing near, a great chunk of the continent’s powerhouses had shifted their gazes towards the Holy Paradise. The invasion from the North had been halted, with majority of the tribes having already inhabited northern parts of the Elvernheimn Empire.
The Holy Paradise itself had a massive influx of newcomers, propping its population up. With the arrival of so many people, even the Elvernheimn Emperor himself had hidden deep within the Palace.
A few miles outside the Holy Paradise City was a small, mountain village, housing no more than one hundred people. Farm animals were happily nibbling at the grass, causing the village to never be truly silent. Within one of the straw huts at the far edge of the village, three people sat in silence, their expressions complicated.
One of them was Elynal, who had arrived a week ago, and had summoned his trusted aides immediately upon his return. The two before him – his Third Uncle and his Guardian – were the closest to his location, and thus were the first ones to arrive. The two of them had long since abandoned their official posts, as they didn’t wish to entangle themselves in the game of politics. Yet, Elynal’s proposal just a moment ago had truly shaken them.
“Are you sure, Elynal?” his Third Uncle questioned; he was a man in his early fifties, with more than half his hair and beard having grown silver, his forehead completely wrinkled. Despite his age, his stature was muscular and brimming with vitality.
“I am.” Elynal replied simply. “We’ve waited for far too long either way. This is perhaps the best opportunity we will get.
“Young Master is right,” his Guardian was a middle-aged man, slightly on the shorter side, wearing plain, brown robes. His face was quite ugly due to numerous scars – may it be of blades or of fire – making his appearance menacing. “The city will be filled to brim with people, and no one will expect us to act.”
“However, the Emperor himself will be present… as will the Second Prince.” Elynal’s uncle was still unsure, nervously stroking his beard. “And let’s not even mention that nearly half the army had been transferred here over the past month. There’s probably close to one hundred thousand men stationed either within the city or close by. Even if we summon all our forces, what are the chances we’ll succeed?”
“As I had already planned to act, I naturally have my means,” Elynal explained, his eyes flashing with a glint of determination. “The problem isn’t my father and his forces, but the Zen bastards, as well as those mysterious figures father had secretly invited. Still, we need to act before they set up defensive formations around and within the city.”
“I have already learned that not many people from the Zen faction will be present,” the Guardian spoke. “Apparently, their focus lies elsewhere. And, considering the blunder of the ancient city, I highly doubt they’ll publicly proclaim themselves thus. Most of the guests will have someone they lost during the massacre. As for those secretive figures… even I’m not sure what to make of them.”
“Ah, majority of them are stationed up North,” the Third Uncle explained. “Only a few have remained behind, but they’re at most equivalent to Dominus Mages.”
“Sixth Brother, Third Sister, Lord Byle and Ogger will arrive tomorrow,” Elynal said. “Alongside their forces. That only leaves us with Duke Illyer, Duke Usthar and Viscount Breech that will arrive shortly before the execution day. With all of us combined, our numbers should total to over seventy thousand. With an ambush, we have a high chance of taking over the city.”
“How about after?” the Third Uncle asked.
“I’ve asked my Master to draw up formations,” Elynal said calmly. “And I’ve also purchased a great deal of Spirits. However, I still lack the resources to activate them all. I already know that my father had transferred a vast majority of the Empire’s treasury into the Holy Paradise Palace.”
“Ah,” the Third Uncle sighed softly as he shook his head. “Let it be so, then. We’ll either succeed or fail, so there’s nothing to fret either way. I can manage my brother, while Brother Si can take care of my brother’s Prime Vessel. As for others, I’ll leave that in your hands, Prince.”
“Thank you, Uncle.” Elynal’s face finally broke out in a smile as he cupped his hands and bowed slightly towards his Uncle.
“Don’t thank me yet, boy. This ambition of yours will truly test the wheels of fate.”
“Ha ha, indeed,” Guardian Si spoke, laughing. “But, it’s been so long since I’ve fought wholeheartedly. To tell you the truth, I’m already itching for the day to come.”
“You and you alone, battle maniac…”
“Ha ha…”
**
Lynne was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his eyes closed, corners twitching slightly. It’s been four days since he arrived in the city, and save for his visit to the shop, he hadn’t stepped out of the inn at all after that. He had been contemplating the Origin Symbols, as well as sending strands of his Soul into the bead-shaped object floating inside of him, sparring against that same youth that beat him over and over again.
“I won’t believe I can’t defeat you!” Lynne bellowed as he jolted his eyes open, panting. He had been beaten black and blue yet again, making this his ninth defeat in just four days. “Dammit, how can he be the weakest?! It appears that he actually grows alongside me! Ah, whatever, I’ve finally made him use Spell Arts. It’s a start.”
“Lynne.” the Eternal Spirit’s voice echoed out inside Lynne’s mind.
“Hm?”
“I’ve noticed some things about you,” the Spirit said. “Do you want me to share?”
“When did you become so polite, huh?” Lynne questioned. “Weren’t you all like ‘yeah, go into that volcano, it’s totally safe’? What happened to you? Did you finally die and reincarnated as someone who actually cares about the feelings of others? Impossible! The sky would rain bones before that happened!”
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“… do you want to, or not?”
“Ah, whatever, fire away. It’s not like I have anything better to do with my time.”
“Fine,” the Spirit said in the same, flat tone as always. “I’ve noticed that you always rely on your mobility Spell Art to evade and draw further back from your opponents,” the Spirit continued. “You have to understand, though, that mid-ranged combat is extremely niche. Less than one person in ten thousand would attempt to make it their main focus. While your Soul Weapons truly are formidable, and allow you to fight off your opponents at the moment, what about when your opponents as well posses a Soul Weapon?” the Spirit said, drawing Lynne forcibly into the same realm where seven paths were placed.
“Your battle style is too flat,” the Spirit explained. “And, even if mid-range is your focus, you simply don’t have proper tools for it. I’ve known only two people in the history of Sect who made Chakrams their main weapons, and they turned out average at best. That isn’t a knack against the weapons themselves, but rather the shortcomings they posses by the very nature of their design. They can’t be used in close combat because they aren’t as quick or precise as swords; they can’t be used in long-ranged exchange because their strength drops off too much, and their mid-range prowess, while above average, isn’t at the top of the weapons.”
“What are you suggesting?” Lynne creased his brows slightly as he listened, realizing that everything the Spirit said was truth. “To change my Soul Weapon?”
“Not… exactly,” the Spirit stroked his chin as he spoke to Lynne. “You should still keep your Chakrams, as you’re very proficient with them. However, you should make them your secondary weapon, and forge a different, primary one.”
“Oh?” Lynne’s brows furrowed. “You sure love spitting ideas. Do you know I nearly died getting the material needed to forge those two Chakrams? You speak as if the freaking materials hang off the trees in the Garden of my Backass.”
“… aii, would it kill you to just… be… normal, for once?”
“I am normal.”
“Alright, alright,” the Spirit simply declined Lynne’s invitation to argue, as he continued. “I can give you the material required,” he then said.
“… but?” Lynne interrupted immediately.
“You have to craft the weapon I tell you, no questions asked.”
“… do you know how ominous that sounds?”
“I just have a feeling you’d flat out reject it otherwise.”
“And what a great feeling that is,” Lynne drew a step back as he spoke. “That feeling is absolutely correct. So how about you tell me what you had in mind, and I can decide for myself whether I want it or not? And by that I mean I can just flat out reject it and move on.”
“No.”
“…”
“Trust me on this,” the Spirit said, his voice and expression turning serious. “I, more so than anyone else, want you to succeed Lynne. I hope that, one day, you’ll rekindle the flames of my Master, and restore the sect to its prior glory.”
“… you told me all I had to do was feed you flames.”
“Which is technically a part of restoring the sect, so I wasn’t lying.”
“… dude, I swindle people nearly every day,” Lynne said, crestfallen. “You don’t have to sugarcoat the fact that I’ve been had.”
“Alright, you’ve been had.”
“Screw you!!” Lynne bellowed, sighing lightly. “Ugh, whatever, I may as well let you do what you want. I promise that I’ll forge the weapon you tell me, as long as it’s not something absolutely insane to the point of being more impractical than just fighting with my tongue.”
“Catch,” the Spirit suddenly threw a small, head-sized cube at Lynne. The cube was crimson in color, wreathed in golden flames, and was as heavy as a massive stone boulder, making it so Lynne nearly dropped it. “That’s Immortal Flamestone,” the Spirit spoke with solemn expression. “The last of its kind.”
“Eh?!” Lynne exclaimed in surprise.
“My Master forged seven in total,” the Spirit explained. “Using every single flame imaginable, as well as his blood and soul essence, he forged them over the course of several hundreds of years. The quality of that single cube surpasses the combination of any Natural Stone by an enormous margin. You could say that there’s no better material for forging Soul Weapons with fire attribute.”
“… somehow, I have a bad feeling about this.” considering how priceless this small cube was, Lynne knew that the Spirit’s following request will probably be insane.
“I want you to use that small cube and forge a… scythe.”
“A what?”
“A scythe.”
“A your mother!!” Lynne immediately exploded in the torrent of curses. I knew it! I knew he’ll say something so insane he actually put me to shame!! “Are you insane?!! Screw you!! Screw you and this cube and this logic!! A scythe?! You want me to wield a scythe?!! Do I look like a freaking gardener to you?! Huh? I may as well throw fucking pebbles at people, as that would be ten times as effective as wielding a fucking scythe!!”
“Ai, listen to me--”
“Listen my ass! No, you listen to me!! A scythe?! Repeat that word in your head, you scrambled bag of stupid! The only people dumb enough to wield a scythe are pretentious twats who think they look good with it, and fucking lunatics who believe they’re reincarnations of Death itself!!”
“Ai… I knew you’d react like this…”
“Oh really?!! How else could I have possibly reacted?” Lynne’s spit rained down upon the Spirit as he cursed, not even taking a breath. “By just bending over and letting you screw my future?! Ugh,” finally, he was out of breath as he collapsed onto the floor panting. “Please, just please, tell me you were joking…”
“Ah, just let me explain,” the Spirit said; in truth, he indeed did expect Lynne to react this way. After all, scythe users were as rare as Phoenix feathers, and that was across all the realms. “Indeed, scythe appears impractical on the surface; it is a weapon with a lack of true balance in design. It is less sturdy than a greatsword, clumsier than a battleax, less damaging than a warhammer, less flexible than a spear…”
“… you’ll dye my hair back to brown with how much you’re shitting on me…”
“But, it is also a combination of all those weapons: it has greatsword’s reach and slashing ability, battleax’s innate ability to fight off multitude of weapons, warhammer’s destructive capabilities, spear’s flexibility… and, above all, it’s faster than all those weapons if crafted properly!”
“Next thing you’re gonna tell me is that the Dragons evolved from the pigs.”
“And it has something no other weapon alike has: full-degree reach! Depending on the size of its blade, it can cover your blindsides much quicker than any other weapon, at much greater distance!”
“… you’re actually serious about me crafting a scythe… and… I can’t believe I’m saying this… use it. As a weapon. In an actual battle. Where I could die.”
“Yes.”
“…”
“So is that a yes?”
“…”
“Fantastic!”
And thus, Lynne was tasked with forging a scythe, and not as a decoration. If anyone else knew of this, Lynne knew, they’d laugh until they dropped dead. Still, he decided to trust the Spirit; for better or worse, it had more experience and knowledge than Lynne, and he doubted the Spirit would go to such ridiculous, roundabout ways to kill him. Ai… I’ll definitely be a laughing stock. Forget being a laughing stock, I’ll be turned into a humorous myth parents tell their children to make them choose a proper weapon… aii, what of my beautiful, grand image…