”Truly the weapon of a berserker.” uttered the master smith in awe. He had seen many kinds of weapons during his career but this one screamed brutality, sacrificing everything for pure offensive power.

“The top of the blade is designed for slashing, the underneath for tearing and shredding, the tips are for puncturing heavy armour and vitals while the spike at the bottom of the staff is for destroying internal organs. Not one part is designed for defence or to keep the wielder out of harm's way.”

He would have never assumed that the unconscious boy’s personality would match such a single-minded, ruthless weapon.

-”I think I now understand why he was unconscious when he arrived.” [Master Smith]

”Morrigan” spoke Mors in a quiet, reverent tone to no one in particular, “The Phantom Queens that foretells doom and death on the battlefield.”

At the sound of Mors’ voice everyone snapped from the shock of everything that had happened and finally paid attention to the terrifying weapon in his hand before silently shuddering. Even the most fearless warriors were likely to quake in their boots and turn tail when encountering something so monstrous on the battlefield.

To the further surprise of everyone watching, Mors quickly flicked his wrist with a sudden jerk and the crescent blade folded perfectly in half, making it look like the blade of a scythe, perfect for any wannabe grim reaper.

Long forgotten words resounded within the heads of the twins as they recalled the sermons of the Council of the Sun.

-”...and that was when the harvester appeared cutting a bloody path of death and destruction with its pitch black scythe, consuming any soul brave enough to stand in its wake”  [Claire and Alice]

Mors slowly starts rotating the staff, temporary letting go of Morrigan causing it to flip around his body before ending up once again in his hand resulting in more than one watcher’s jaw dropping.

Displaying the skills expected of a grand staff master, the speed and precision rapidly increases each time it circles his body. Once again Mors makes a slight jerking motion and the staff suddenly shattered into three separate chains connected at the centre with each link sprouting multiple sharp, needle like barbs pointing in every direction.

Instead of slowing down or losing control, the chains continue to increase in speed starting to create haunting, black afterimages in their wake in an almost symmetrical sphere around Mors. The two scythe like blades and the brutal spike appeared to be in multiple places at the same time and a dull humming emanates throughout the room causing the ice surrounding Mors to crack.

-”Those chains aren't designed to ensnare but to shred and render flesh from bone. If he masters its different forms and can transition between them seamlessly no one will be his equal in close combat, not even me.” mused Verz as she analysed the forms Mors was displaying.

The length of the chains began to shorten and finally come to a stop as they wrap around Mors body.

Instead of being turned to a bloody pulp Mors did not even appear to have a single scratch. Morrigan had almost completely disappeared against his black clothing, fitting snugly against his body as if a second layer of prickly skin.

The two scythe blades rested on along the top of each of his arms, the chain wrapped upwards to his shoulders and then down around his chest before encircling his tail and ending at his bone tip with it and the spike almost seamlessly coming together.

Flexing his arms, the curved blades sliced outwards before slowly retracting to their original position just like a serpent stretching its fangs.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

-”Forget berserker, assassin would be a suitable class” mused the master smith as his evaluation of the weapon and its master continued to increase.

”How is he not being ripped apart!?” asked Bruce with a heavy, pained voice. In the past he had never felt threatened by Mors or his skills however the display he had just witnessed was terrifying.

With Mors’ ability to augment his body it was already easy to consider him a living weapon but with Morrigan at his side, a weapon that could meld perfectly with his body, anyone foolish enough to underestimate him or unlucky enough to make a mistake would be dead, higher realm or not.

Bruce held little doubt that the days of restraining Mors from causing the Pathfinders shame or to put him in his place were well and truly over.

The master smith slowly licked his lips as he stared at Mors and his new weapon with wide eyes before absentmindedly replying to Bruce’s question ”A soul weapon is naturally part of you, if you understand each other well enough, being able to sleep on the blade's edge shouldn't cause as much as a dent in the skin… but to master it to this extent normally takes years if not decades.”

A faint hissing noise as well as a small plume of black smoke could be seen coming from Mors’ clothes where they came into contact with the weapon.

“How do you plan on carrying your weapon” enquired the master smith with an equal mix of anticipation and excitement creeping into his voice realising that for such a unique weapon, a conventional sheath wouldn't work.

It was every master smiths dream to have their name linked with a powerful weapon and even though he technically he  wasn't really required by for the creation process, if Mors and his weapon were to become famous, so would he and as first impressions are so important the first thing a good weapon needs is a good sheath.

Walking over to the tailor's table nearby and picking up the leather hide that had been imbued with Azeroth, Mor’s turned back to the blacksmith with a huge grin. “I will make my own when I have spent enough time to know what they truly need. At the moment it feels right being next to my skin so maybe I’ll just have to make some clothes or run around topless”

A snort of laughter rumbles from this blacksmith. “Boy! With a weapon that brutal all that will be missing from the picture is a sea of blood at your feet however I feel you might be aiming to keep a bit of a lower profile. I like you, take what you need in terms of materials but you have to promise to stop by in the future and show me how ‘they’ evolve. I have been doing this for over 75 years and I have never seen such an fascinating weapon.”

The Pathfinders and adepts watched on in silence as Mors shakes hands with the smiling dwarf like they were best friends before retrieving his heavy black cloak and leather armour and heading towards the door.

“Put your cloak on and hood up!” Shouts Verz. “Have you forgotten that there are demon hunters about or are you just a brainless idiot?”

“Whoops, almost forgot.” joked Mors in too much of a good mood to maintain his icy demeanour. “As trouble likes to stalk me down wherever I roam, I don't think it will matter much but if you're that concerned let's get going. The day is almost through and I need to bond with Morrigan before the trial starts.” he continued as he walked towards the door.

“Only just got a soul weapon and he thinks he is strong enough to command the Captain.” laughed Jade causing Bruce to reveal an evil smile thinking Mors was about to get one of his standard beatings.

“Little demon you sure sound eager for a spar so I won't disappoint. As you asked so nicely let's go.” spoke Verz in a half threatening, half light hearted  manner.

“You only get stronger by fighting a better opponent and you're the strongest person I know.” replied Mors as he tried his hardest to keep the subconscious flinch hammered into him when Verz mentioned a spar hidden. He needed to get stronger, much stronger and although with this method he expected many visits to the void, Vers was the best person to help him.

Shocking everyone Verz lets out a hearty laugh with a hint of relief. -”Even though I didn't have much choice in the matter it seems subconsciously I picked the right one. Tonight might go better than I expected.” she happily thought.

“Rock you are in charge, we will meet at the crossroads tomorrow” Commanded Verz with a dazzling smile that caused Rock’s brain to jar before walking out the wooden door quickly followed by Mors.

“Never knew the pup had that kind of silver tongue.” muttered Rock as Jade nodded and replied “People like them are hard to come by and I think she was worried that he would reject her and opt for easy life.”

“Hahaha, both of them are monsters that belong on a battlefield, why would they reject each other when they are so few that will trulyl understand and accept them.” joverly retorted Rock before giving his thanks to the blacksmiths in Verzs stead. -”Can't wait to see the look on his face when he realised the reason for his nickname.”