****************************

Lennon 'Bladed Monster' Hull

My blade slices through the air with enough speed to create currents in my vision, aimed at Eli Weiss' throat. I don't wait a single moment for violence, as beside me, Edward already holds his sword steady, the cold steel pressed against Eli's neck. Edward seeks threats and knowledge while I peer toward only one thing. Growth. Victory seems imminent, but I don't honestly expect Eli to be caught this easily.

If I did, I wouldn't be here. An easy fight is one without gain.

In the split second before my blade makes contact, the enemy's flesh contorts and shifts, forming a bizarre, grotesque gap that allows the deadly edge of my weapon to pass harmlessly through. It's a surreal sight as if reality bends to his will, and my Claymore, swirling with dark winds, enters his neck cavity and exits by his midsection.

Stepping back, I find his flesh already reconstituted with a glimmering light in his eye that holds my suspicion, and before Edward can finish even a single word, Eli finds his mettle.

My target retaliates With a fluid motion, conjuring metal from within his skin. Blades spring forth, extending from his arms like gruesome extensions of his will. They shimmer with malevolent intent as he lashes out, forcing me to evade backward while Edward dodges and weaves unconsciously with Shiver, narrowly avoiding the deadly strikes. However, a single moment after the blades miss, a dozen barrels of steel emerge from his flesh, silvery light in his other eye.

Instantly, my mind computes the answer as I twist my blade, shifting it to deflect the bullets as fast as I can by placing my blade in front of the barrel before it fires, still managing to get hit by a few due to their naturally fast speed.

Eli has two Ails within his eyes. One that does some... reality or flesh manipulation? And the other that turns flesh to metal, most likely. His intelligence is probably what's turning it into guns. I retreat a bit further as I ramp up Monster even further, glancing at Edward.

My ally, undaunted by the onslaught, taps into his own extraordinary Ether. His blood dances with power, coursing through and out of his veins like liquid fire. He channels this crimson onto his body and blade, augmenting both with his very life. While I have to dodge, weave, and slice with all my might, Edward's blood coagulates and blocks many of the bullets on its own while his body Shivers in minute movements to evade the others. Can't say I'm not jealous. A poet's son will always be at a disadvantage compared to these two monsters.

The son of the greatest Coltsmith and the most talented child of the only Base Sigiled to ever create a Dzil. Those are the two I have to keep up with.

I like it.

The challenge emboldens me as I grit my teeth further, Monster drawing out more seconds from my body. Blood streams from my wounds, and my arteries surge with momentum as I place my foot on the ground. The same stone that I struggled to slash earlier creaks beneath my toes before I release the built-up energy within them.

The battle with Eli quickly intensifies as I approach him, a whirlwind of clashing steel and crackling stone. I move with blinding speed, my strikes a tempest, literally, as I dive into the Ether and Sigil hidden within this Claymore. Yet, it matters little. Eli's hand shifts into a shield before he deflects my blade, and his kneecap shoots my calf as I return a secondary attack with my hand.

Falling to my knee, I twist, kicking out with my other leg as Edward returns to the close-quarters combat. His longsword of blood sings with crimson over my head, swerving right for Eli. The old man, however, is never out of tricks. His left eye shimmers with a swarthy darkness, allowing Edward's blade to pass through him harmlessly. Meanwhile, my foot phases without effect as well.

Grunting, I haul myself to my feet as I backpedal, the dull pain present in my leg as I grind the lead out of my bone with my free hand. Edward lines up beside me as we both catch our breaths. My veins lower as Monster takes a break.

"Ails."

Edward simply nods to my single word, understanding what I mean. Then, he follows up with a plan.

"Then we can't let him see us. I go high. You go low."

The enemy, an old man with seemingly limitless tricks, remains quiet with a simple, infuriating smile as he watches us discuss our plans.

But it doesn't matter. Eli knows his weakness just as we do. He would never use something without researching it at least as much as Earl, who is probably being manipulated in some way. Not that I'll tell the kid, though. Not my place. Not my worry. So, we continue.

Edward, his blade dripping with as much blood as a man has in total, makes a daring move, lunging high to obstruct the enemy's vision. It's a diversion, a spectacular show designed to draw Eli's attention upward. As long as the eye doesn't see what it wants to manipulate, the Ail won't work. That is the most significant rule Earl found with the eyes, and he made sure let everyone know in case we ran across them again. Clever man.

As Eli's gaze is momentarily obscured and he strikes at Edward, I seize the opportunity to hit low, the genuine threat in our coordinated assault. I close the gap with lethal intent. Monster hurtles me across the stone with near-impossible-to-see speed, my blade poised to deliver a decisive blow.

But Eli is no ordinary man, nor even an ordinary Angel. He reacts with a shocking display of power, his flesh contorting again. Bullets erupt from his body with a grotesque, squelching sound, striking Edward with brutal force. I hardly notice Edward even having time to Shiver as the bloody man goes tumbling backward, falling over me.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Furrowing my brows as sweat drips down, I press forward, determined to reach the enemy before he can recover. If I'm fast enough, I can still do this. Crouching down so low I almost touch the ground with my knees, I slide beneath Edward's flying body and thrust my blade. My blade ascends with lethal precision, poised to end this all.

Yet, again, I'm forced to the brink. Just how I've grown to like it. But it's never enough.

In the blink of an eye, he twists his hand with an almost casual ease. A blue light materializes, crackling with electric fury, and slams into me with searing intensity. My eyes lose their sight as my fingers tingle in agony the instant the impact sends me sprawling, my body wracked with pain as I tumble haphazardly across the stone, but the years of training have not failed me.

My nerves simmer and burn as they refuse my commands, yet my muscle memory kicks. All those times of getting my ass kicked and thrown to the ground fly through my mind, as even in the darkness, I move. Without even trying, I grip my fingers into the rock, flipping myself back onto my feet as I stand, smoky and in agony. But I still stand. That is all that matters, and even Eli commends it.

"Quite the acrobat, eh, Lennon? I've never seen anyone get struck by a lightning bolt and stick the landing."

Grunting in reply, I force my leg forward while a clank behind me draws my attention.

"You ain't ever fought me, then."

Edward hauls himself to his feet, too, his Claymore being used as his cane to get him up. His legs are shaky and frail, but I raise an eyebrow at all the holes in his torso. I run my tongue across my teeth, tasting the iron in my blood as I smile. Edward scoffs as he limps beside me, his longsword still against the ground for support. He's more damaged than he's willing to let on. Same as me, I suppose.

"You battle-hungry maniac. My father would be so disappointed."

I laugh right back at him, replying in what I genuinely believe.

"You so sure? Your old man loved fighting, too. Why else would he have joined that war as such an old man?"

The last Dudley shakes his head, nodding forward.

"Enough. We need to get serious."

A chuckle coughs up some blood from the lighting, burning my insides as it tears its way through me.

"We weren't before?"

The Bloodied Beast stabilizes his footwork, running the flat of his blade along his forearm as it takes some crimson fluid through his flesh. The color of his Claymore darkens even further as he speaks, staring ahead at Eli in the door.

"I mean, we can't fight him. We need to get out of here. Any ideas?"

I open my mouth to refute but never get to the second part.

"It seems you finally understand. Escape. That is what you should be doing. Lennon, your death wish will get you killed eventually. I saw that from thousands of miles away when you fought Eden. As for you, Edward... you are too caring. Not all those who follow you will survive. In fact... most will be dead before morn'. Take those you can to Gravecross."

I can hear the liberator of Blackreach seethe beside me. His teeth shift against each other as the beast roars out with dripping crimson.

"You speak of escape? Of running? All you do is offer death. I thought you were a fixer. An inventor? A savior? Where is that man from when Nahullo last invaded?! Where is he!? What happened to MYRIAD!? I KNOW YOU DID THAT TO HIM! WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

By the end of his words, the room is shaking with a reddened mist that Edward is exhaling with every word. My thoughts also fall onto Myriad. I thought that crazed man was to be here. Sure, there were reports of him being wounded, but he'd be up and at 'em within the hour, knowing him. But... if Myriad's 'illness' was indeed caused by Eli, the mad alchemist would never have let him go without a failsafe.

Eli sighs, the fleshy shoulders of the man sagging slightly as he holds his face. The gray hair on his head drips down lengthfully and onto his fingers.

"You all are so focused on the unimportant things. Myriad will no longer be a threat, okay? That's what you wanted, right—the man gone? Well, now he is. Why would you care what happened to him?"

Edward ambles forward as I shift aside, detecting the malice that leeks from every orifice of this man. The Bloodied Beast bleeds burning belligerence from his veins that open on their own, letting a river fall to the stone below.

"I. Want. To. Know. What. You. Did. To. Grover. Moore."

The words from the Dudley finally make Eli's continuous smile fall, which quickly descends to a focused line.

"How did you learn that name? I struck it off every record."

Edward steps closer, his blade gliding along the stone with a shriek. I want to hear about this. No one knows who Myriad was before he went crazy, only that he was powerful. Some mysteries even I would like solved.

"From the man himself. We spoke soul to soul a few nights ago. Our views were hardly similar, but we could sit down occasionally when his madness was most cooled."

Eli curses, his hand gripping downward toward a bag that has both Edward and I grasping for our swords, but the old man quickly stops, not likely because of us. He steps back and waves his arms in an effort to calm us.

"Fine. You win. I did not expect that bastard to regain even a modicum of his sanity. He imbibed a... liquid of sorts from an old ruin from before the time of the Devil. I did tests on it beforehand, and it seemed as though it could turn back the clock for a man. It did so and more. No longer will he age. But... it also broke him at the same time. The younger version of him instantly unlocked an Absolution from his many years at the peak, but all the changes at once were too much. He got hooked on a crazed ideology, wanting to remove the very people who gave him back his youth."

The explanation is short and succinct for the life of such an infamous man. Something about it just doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't seem to sit with Edward, either.

"And what? You unleashed him onto Blackreach? And what about now? Where is that poor soul? Did you kill him? Toss his soul back to the Underworld? I can't say I like him, but he's certainly a better man than you."

Edward's final sentence makes Eli's eyes visibly sink, and I feel like I found a soft spot on the world's most extraordinary mind. He knows what he's doing is awful, but the old man feels as though he has to. Eli probably thinks he's the only one who can do it.

I bet he wants to be a hero. Too bad, old man. Those don't exist. They haven't been birthed for a long, long time. The last hero born died a handful of days ago.

Yet, Eli doesn't seem the type to simply give up.

"I... I imprisoned him for a time, using his newfound gifts to help my experiments. How else would things like my Ails or Vessels come about so quickly? An infinite amount of test subjects that I could use how I see fit was perfect. But eventually, he escaped, alongside my daughter, when her brain also melted under the strain. As for right now... I cannot tell you where he is, but I can, on my name, on Vincent's name, and on the name of all humans, promise that he will never be a threat again."

Edward falls quiet, and I examine Eli's face closely as I actually sense some heartfelt emotion in these words. I didn't know the old man could indeed output feelings like that or at all.

The Bloodied Beast strides forward, his longsword's edge grinding against the stone as he approaches Eli. In just a few seconds, the shambling, bloodied, and damaged man reaches the older fellow, chest to chest. His voice drops low, with a vile venom.

"You better be working for humanity, Eli. If you are not, I will kill, cut you up and eat your fucking brain that you use so much. I swear to the Devil's Balance."

The Underground Tree glances up at Edward, who is slightly taller than him, meeting his gaze. I step toward them, feeling as though I may be needed if the fight restarts.

"You remind me so much of your father... and your mother. Brave to a fault. I do all these... wretched acts for us, Edward. I swear, too, that upon the Devil's Balance, may he devour my heart shall I lie."

Eli's hand twists into a cross as he speaks, and I feel a subtle energy flow through the room. As he finishes his motion, a chained cross with a balance at the end hangs at the end of his fingers. Smiling, he hands it to Edward.

"Take this as proof—a deal with the Devil himself. Once upon a time, all Gods could be interacted with—prayed with, too. Now, the Devil is the only one who responds, and he only does so to those he deems important enough."

An aura, one shimmering of dark gold and blood red, hangs behind Eli before quickly fading, and then the man bows and steps back, vanishing with a ripple of his billowing flesh.

Edward Dudley turns around, almost shellshocked, as he holds a necklace of chains and balance—of chaos and order. My eyes widen as I sense the concentrated Ether within it, possibly enough to create the storm that Marshall did. A gasp of incomprehensible impressedness comes from my ally.

"Wow. A real God's power. I... I thought they didn't answer prayers anymore... Father always said to rely on men, not Gods, to get what you needed."

I pat him on the back as I brush past him, heading for the way Eli went.

"He ain't wrong. We're lucky the Devil even still exists, but he hardly cares. Seems the old bastard only helps men like Eli. Best you throw that away. Who knows what trick he's playing, even if he's telling the truth."

I catch Edward nodding at the edge of my vision as I pass him.

But he puts in on anyway.