Adama fought his way through the enemy with a valiant effort.
He countered the Tiger’s sneak attacks. He cut through wave after wave of attacker. But it was just too much. He finally took a full punch from a Minotaur, sending him flying back down a passage that he had just been ascending. He hit a wall and barely managed a roll to evade the torrent of flame that came after him. His entire body ached, but the pain of the lost progress hurt much more than anything else. His original plan had been to cut his way towards the surface. Adama didn’t believe he would actually escape, nor did he intend to. But if the Tiger saw that its legion couldn’t hold him down, then it would be forced to fully expose itself and fight him in earnest. Then, Adama would turn the tables on his feline pursuer and end this menace before it could hurt anyone else.
He had overestimated himself.
No matter how many of the enemy he killed, the Tiger could always replenish more from the Dungeon’s inexhaustible coffers. That meant that he would need to kill enough of them quickly to carve a path, which meant that he needed the Endless Sword. But the constant sequence of fighting, then casting, and moving forward still wasn’t enough to make meaningful progress. His magic was regenerating at a rapid clip, and he was absolutely burning through Mind potions, but he still hadn’t ascended beyond the 14th floor. Wading through the enemy was like wading through molasses, and he was practically taking ten steps forward, only to take nine steps back. Adama could feel the Tiger’s eyes on the back of his head constantly, mocking him silently.
Adama growled in frustration and began his chant for the thousandth time. His voice was hoarse from all the chanting, especially in the superheated air. He croaked out the bars of his song and dance anyway, mind turning over with ideas about what to do next. Eventually, he bought himself a reprieve as he finished his spell, the same green aura rippling out and tearing through the pieces of the enemies closest to him. He cracked open the last of his healing and physical recovery potions and drank deeply from both. He had no more Mind potions, and there was no point in being conservative. If he waited until he was on death’s doorstep, he would have no chance of beating the Tiger, even if he lured it out. His back was well and truly against the wall.
Tossing down the glass bottles, he lifted his sword and charged back into the fray for the final time. As he did, however, a memory came to him unbidden:
…
The Sage of the Endless Sword was proud of his disciple.
Yerin had just endured a difficult trial. Trapped in a freezing cold place and surrounded by swords, he had left his disciple with a few key words:
“When you’re alone, look for a weapon.”
The irony was clear and slightly amusing to the teacher. She was surrounded by weapons, but they were her cage. If she moved, they would cut her, and if she moved too much, she would kill herself on the steel. Alone, and unable to use any of the techniques he had taught her so far, she would need to learn the most important lesson he could teach her.
The only true weapon was herself.
The only way she could leave was to use the foundational technique on the Path of the Endless Sword. He had taught her all the others in preparation for this moment, but he hadn’t directly taught her the Endless Sword itself, and she would sink or swim on her own ability to learn. Adama had always found that people learned best under pressure, after all, and Yerin had proved him right once again. But now, he needed to teach her another lesson:
“You’ve finally stepped onto the Path. Well done.”
He gave her a fractional nod, noticing the spark of happiness it drew in her eyes. She imitated his stoic posture, however, and gave him a fractional nod back:
“Bet my soul against a rat’s tail that there’s more to learn about it than that.”
Adama’s eyes gleamed a little at the perfect segue:
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You’d win that bet. Right now, your Endless Sword technique is still at the ‘sword like the storm’ stage. You push the sword aura outwards indiscriminately, creating a storm of blades all around you. As you advance, you’ll eventually be able to control that aura precisely, obtaining a ‘sword like the wind.’”
He pointed to a tree branch nearby and his sword thrummed a little. The branch was split into pieces from multiple unseen cuts as Yerin stared in wonder. The Sage gave a lopsided smile. Perhaps it was time to show off a little. Reaching into his void key, he drew out a book he didn’t particularly care for and held it up for her to see:
“If you get really good at it, you can do something like this.”
As Yerin watched in awe, a small flash of madra provoked a single page to flutter loose from the closed book, severed neatly from the spine.
…
Adama snapped back to reality in time to deflect a flurry of attacks. As he did his eyes shone with the force of the unexpected revelation. That was it. He had been thrown off by the differences between magic and aura, but he had the Endless Sword now, in all its fullness. The paths his magic flowed through had been carved through his body like madra channels, and he could draw upon them in any way he pleased. Without saying a peep, he drew upon the magic well sitting in the back of his brain and moved it in the patterns of his normal Endless Sword. He didn’t draw as much as his normal magic consumed, however, and he moved it in a slightly altered pattern that just seemed to make sense.
As more monster attacks closed in from all around him, the Sage’s sword rang like a bell. It wasn’t the gong of a church bell, but rather the subtle chime of glass in the wind.
The attacks were turned away in toto, and the arms of his attackers were butchered in a small flurry of tiny, emerald blades. Adama barely slowed down as he charged forward, sword flashing in another flurry of attacks. When they tried to surround him again, he drew upon his limited Endless Sword again, giving no indication whatsoever he was doing so. The chantless magic turned aside all threats, leaving his enemies dead or otherwise de-fanged. It was honestly better to cripple them than it was to kill them, as the Dungeon wouldn’t respawn living monsters, meaning that the Tiger couldn’t replace them. He could also use it much faster than he could the normal version, and the fact that they couldn’t predict it meant that they couldn’t avoid it as easily.
Adama’s heart soared as he flew through the Dungeon, armed with this new weapon. Nothing could stop him as he charged his way towards freedom, and he could feel the Tiger’s desperation as it threw everything it could at the swordsman. Still, his challenges were far from over. Since his potion belt had run dry, he had still been accumulating wounds on his breakneck charge through the massive horde. He also used the limited Endless Sword extremely often, meaning that his magic expenditure was still greater than ever. His regeneration was also higher than ever, but that could only take the edge off his problems. Adama felt his strength flagging as he waged his one-man war on the 13th floor, but he only grinned wider. He had an ace in the hole.
Dangling around his neck, miraculously undamaged, was a Dual potion. It dangled there, gleaming the same bright green as the eyes of the woman who gave it to him. He reached up and tugged it off its string, popping the cork and chugging the potion at rapid speed. Both Mind and Body began to heal as his wounds closed and his magic climbed near its peak capacity. Adama gave a shout of triumph and redoubled his efforts, slicing and dicing his way through the enemy at an unprecedented speed. Then, finally, he broke free.
The horde finally reached its limit, and he chopped his way through the last of the enemies between him and freedom. He left the dregs of the monsters nearby as he sprinted uninhibited on the way to freedom. Only some of the Wyverns and Almiraj could pursue him, but he cut them down with a few Rippling Swords behind his back.
Then, in a flash of white, the Enemy appeared.
The great beast was forced to turn off its cloaking when it attacked, but it appeared out of nowhere in Adama’s blindspot, just to his left. He was running through a very large room when it did, and the beast’s raised its right paw gleamed in the lowlight as it stretched out to sever Adama’s brainstem. It was done playing, but so was the Sage. His face split in a predatory grin in the face of the lethal strike:
“Gotcha”
His blade rang out once again in a faint echo, but it was enough. The fiend’s claws were perfect conductors for sword magic, and they ran red with blood as the creature’s paws were knocked away from Adama. The monster jumped back, reflexively engaging its cloaking again, but he had already run in the direction it had leapt. He lashed out and gathered another snarl as he drew blood once again. The beast’s invisibility was broken once again, and Adama saw that he had drawn a gash across its shoulder. The Tiger tried to dance away, mangled paws slashing defensively at Adama. He parried and scored another cut, but it was around that time that the Tiger’s reinforcements arrived.
The monsters hurried to help their leader as Adama chased the Tiger around the room. The fiend should have been faster than him, but the opening cuts he had scored on its front paws had hobbled it enough that Tim could keep up. The monster kept trying to reactivate its camo, but Adama’s Rippling Swords and skillfully placed slashes always managed to catch up to the creature. But things weren’t all sunshine and rainbows.
The monster’s helpers always tried to get in the way. They clawed, slashed, and breathed fire at Adama as he sprinted around to try to catch the running cat. Adama evaded and slashed his way through them as best as he could, but eventually they drew enough of his attention that the beast managed to slip back into its hidden form. Tim was still able to track it from the pools of blood that the beast left behind when it moved, and they played hide and seek as Tim simultaneously killed off the distractions and chased after the mob’s leader. He thinned the herd with his chantless Endless Sword as he ran, but suddenly realized that he’d lost track of the Tiger.
No sooner had he realized that before his natural danger sense rang out again. He twisted away from the source, but Adama felt claws rake painfully across his right shoulder. He struck back and earned another shallow cut, but the beast managed to cloak up again. He strove to hunt it down, and they danced around the battlefield in a deadly and brutal duel. Adama had chunks carved off him by both the surrounding monsters and the sneaky cat, but he gave as good as he got to both. That final room on the 13th floor became a total bloodbath as The Sage and the Tiger engaged in one final duel to the death.
The beast’s fur was matted in blood. Adama’s cloak was long shredded to pieces, and the last of his coat was being peeled off him in large pieces. Both parties panted heavily in the scorched confines, blood boiling in the furnace of war. The clash of weapons and booms of missed attacks swirled up to create the thunderous symphony of a murderous battle. The fight blurred together in a long sequence of roaring action and vicious close combat as the duel neared its crescendo. Then, it was over.
The Tiger used some of the last of its soldiers to block Adama’s vision. He cut through them but took the beast’s next attack on his sword was a kick from the creature’s rear paws. These had gone largely undamaged throughout the fight, and the kick’s weight was enough to send Adama crashing back into the wall. The man’s vision blurred a little from the force of the impact, and he heard the swift galloping of the Tiger’s paws as the creature bore down on the cornered swordsman. It opened its jaws wide in a mighty bite. Inches from the man’s head, however, its fanged maw stopped abruptly. Violet eyes wide and uncomprehending, the cat eventually stared down.
At the ivory blade that protruded from its throat.
A pair of angry viridian marbles met its helpless gaze, and the creature realized at the last second that its kick hadn’t been that strong. The Sage had gotten it with one last throw of the dice, pretending to be overpowered, only to counterattack at the moment of truth. It gave one final, blood choked snarl.
And the Tiger died.