John felt his body give a start. It was a strange feeling, to grow stronger with each fading breath.

John lay on the ground in a heap, having been struck by the queens opening blow and crashing into the wall. He was dying and yet he felt stronger than he’d ever thought possible. His heart beat in stutters as he made to rise, he felt himself stumble as he stood and yet his steps cracked the ground. But he was dying. He willed his blood to move through him, it guided his steps and kept him alive- kept him strong. But he felt his chest convulse and his heart aching in pain. This wouldn’t last long.

John was terrified of death. But now that he found himself facing it, it wasn’t so bad. He knew that was just the effect of his doomed class swaying him- to grow stronger with each injury and each drop of blood shed meant to feel better and greater the closer you came to the end- but it didn’t make it any less true. He felt strong.

Strong enough to hurt her.

And so he tried. Tried to slay a monster that could destroy countries with his blood sword. He tried to do something meaningful before he died. But he felt his steps begin to falter further and his grip on blood slip. His lungs burned, not with exhaustion, but with collapse. It seemed death had come sooner than he’d planned, and without a skill to keep it at bay, John braced for the inevitable end.

Then he heard a yell and saw a red glint flying towards him.

A lifeline. Alex had thrown him a healing potion, an expression of worry on his face. As John reached out and caught it, he looked forward and saw Alex smile.

John downed it in one.

Healing energy seeped through John and his strength returned and increased. Each of his steps were fueled by the chambers deluge of spilled life fluids. Relief filled the BloodBerserker as he gazed ahead and witnessed Alex battling the monstrosity. And then, just as suddenly, the relief turned to fury.

A creature beneath the shell of a human girl stood beside him, with hair so dark and thick it seemed to shine reflective—almost metallic. She lifted her sword. John’s eyes traced her features in a fraction of a second, it felt like forever. He was unsure how he was supposed to feel about her nature, all his life he had been taught that her kind’s existence was a blight. They were the enemy- she was the enemy. But without her he would surely die and with her he might die still. She met the town guard's eyes and held his gaze. He lifted his blade. She nodded to him and the unspoken meaning held within the action passed between them.

He and the inhuman girl besides him charged.

“Don’t let them trap you! Find the gaps!" John yelled as he swung at the nearest limb, digging his blade into the reflective carapace. The queen had eight limbs that spanned almost the entire length of the chamber. Most limbs shot like spears to fight Alex, several more aimed to kill John and the girl with swift blows. Limbs like massive spears struck out at them from all sides as they drew closer to the stationary queen’s throne in the hopes of aiding Alex. The girl charged left towards another limb. She raced forward and leapt, her blade swinging down in a wide and powerful-

The wind was knocked out of her. Gasping without air, she crashed to the ground as a spearing limb struck her down.

Red and black. That was all she saw next, her world became tinted in two colours. Gargantuan limbs failed to reach their target. They hammered down to end her, but didn’t reach her flesh. Her world was still covered in a thick pane of red and black, riddled with cracks that shattered and reformed constantly. They split, and black became red. What was she seeing? She closed her eyes and sensed the world, ignoring its colors.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It was John.

John had summoned a dome of life fluids to protect her, a layered structure of thick crystal that reformed the instant a strike would shatter it. Another strike, and red became black, the ground shuddered under the impact.

The dome returned to liquid. life-fluids flew through the air in a stream, returning to the call of its master. John reformed his blood-armor and covered his blade. His armament of crystallized blood. The girl rose and for a split second their gazes met, human and inhuman. Then she leapt and burst through the remnants of the dome.

Blood and Ichor. The first wave of the queens strikes had hemmed them together, boxing them in to make them easier targets. John used his most powerful skill to part the crushing limbs. A Sacrificial Blade. His dark greatsword swung in the widest of arcs, its width fit to match the queen's limbs. A crescent of his ichor and blood painted the chamber's floor on impact. He saw a huge shape blur past, he swung. His blood-crystal blade shattered against its carapace, but the limb recoiled. John leapt forward and swung again. A crack- a hole, small. Another limb lashed out but his shielding took the impact, hardened blood and ichor shattered, removing his defenses.

Fury and steel. The girl matched his pace, her own steel blade a wild whirlwind of furious destruction. She deflected an errant blow and crashed to her knees under its strain. She stabbed and hacked and slashed, chipping away sections of already damaged carapace. She saw John without his blood-armour stood there Like trapped fauna before a hunting party, gawking at spears of massive limbs shooting to skewer his defenceless form. She charged left, towards the gap between John and his doom. She pushed him and spun, crouching and pivoting on her heel like Alex had taught her to do, then she leapt while channeling her imitation of the forms she had seen him use since her their first encounter. She crashed into John and pushed him out of deaths path.

Three limbs large enough to carve tunnels crashed into the space behind her.

They dug deep into the ground and a web of cracks spread wide, stone jutted out at uneven angles. John looked stunned. For a split second the adrenal rush of death surged through him. It held relief, shock, confusion, and fear… and for the second time in his life, he felt something that felt like gratitude for a monster.

He recovered and raced forward, his broad sword growing as liquid swirled wildly around him. The town guard swung his bloody greatsword and the three limbs cracked. The girl swung her sword close behind, low, cutting a path that led to the exact spot John had impacted. She saw cracked and broken limbs rising in preparation for more swift strikes.

She swung harder.

The impact of her blade on damaged limbs sent small fragments of chitin scattering across the floor. Flesh pulsed, exposed and unprotected.

The Queen screeched and her longest limb raised a blade of pure bronze, its flesh still exposed. The girl looked up. John pointed.

“Sacrificial Blade.”

Johns body moved with surety that defied his exhaustion. His sword elongated and shot forward, extended by blood. It blurred and whizzed towards the Queen’s soft flesh. He stabbed.

The girl struck at the same instant. Her sword flashed, slicing off fingers as thick as she was. A bronze blade hit the dirt.

The Queen's blade. A blade of power.

John leapt out of the way and the girl dove to retrieve the weapon, just as limbs crashed down on her location in a current of desperation. Dust erupted, a plume hiding her from all views but Alex’s.

***

John lay on the ground, surrounded by dust and rubble. He couldn’t see a thing.

“She almost killed me!”

Did his voice quiver? No, of course it didn’t. He was incapable of feeling fear and as a result was not afraid. He cleared his throat. Yes it definitely wasn’t fear. His fingers trembled. Nope, they didn’t tremble, surely not. He was not afraid. He wasn’t!

“Blood’s Debt.” As the dust cleared he lifted his sword and spoke, and blood came to him in serpentine movements more under its own control than his.

Then he raced after the Girl who stood amidst the rubble holding a bronze blade, stolen from their adversary. He charged and spoke again.

“Sacrificial Blade.” His blade became deadlier with each step.

The girl awaited his charge with a faint smirk. There was no way either of them would miss out on what came next.