Chapter 8: The Storm and the Scythe
We rode for hours, following the winding path of the river as the afternoon stretched into evening.
With Fenris handling the navigation and the high-speed travel, my mind had time to wander. To keep myself occupied, I started playing with my Soul-Steel sword. I channeled my Imagination Manifestation, melting the dark, sapphire-sheened metal down and compressing it as tightly as my mana pool would allow. I molded it into a standard longsword, then a curved scimitar, and currently, I was holding a heavy, thick-bladed broadsword.
I turned it over in my hands, feeling the weight. It was fine, but I really wished I had a better, more permanent design in mind. A sleek katana? A massive, anime-style greatsword? I laughed mentally at the imagery. If I swung a six-foot greatsword with my measly 10 Strength, I'd probably just throw my own back out. I'd figure out a real signature weapon later; the broadsword would do for now.
The sun finally dipped below the horizon, and the dense canopy of the forest plunged us into deep, heavy darkness.
Suddenly, Fenris's ears twitched. Through our mental link, a sharp, urgent spike of awareness hit my brain. The silver wolf whipped his head toward the deep woods away from the riverbank. A second later, I heard it too—a faint, distant scream cutting through the night.
"Go," I commanded, leaning low over his silver neck.
Fenris didn't hesitate. He banked hard, his massive paws tearing up the dirt as he abandoned the riverside and launched us into the thick of the woods. He pushed his speed even further, an absolute blur of silver and blue lightning weaving flawlessly through the dense trees.
Up ahead, a jagged, unnatural orange glow flickered through the branches. The firelight grew brighter and more chaotic as we closed the distance.
When we finally burst into the clearing, the sight hit me like a physical blow. Shock paralyzed me for a microsecond, instantly replaced by a wave of cold, hollow revulsion.
It was a campsite, completely and utterly destroyed. A large wooden wagon sat half-tipped over in the dirt. But it was the monsters that made my stomach turn. They were small, brutish, goblin-shaped things with sickly, dark-grey skin. They didn't have normal eyes—just solid, glowing red orbs embedded in their skulls. Their hands ended in jagged, razor-sharp black nails.
And they were tearing apart the corpses of a man and a woman. A few yards away, a half-dozen more of the grey brutes were aggressively devouring a massive, horse-like beast still tied to the wagon.
In that fraction of a second, my mind processed the sheer, brutal carnage. And then, something inside me completely snapped.
It wasn't intentional. It wasn't a planned tactical move. Every ounce of pent-up frustration I had been burying since I woke up boiled over at once. The utter injustice of dying. Getting dumped into a hostile wilderness without a single hint, tutorial, or guide. Days of sleeping in the dirt, starving, desperately needing a shower—and now these grotesque things dared to exist. They dared to make this absolute nightmare of a week even worse.
My core went nova.
The crowd of three-foot monsters all snapped their heads in my direction. In the reflection of their solid red orb-eyes, I saw the storm. Raw, violent power poured out of me. It flowed visibly across my skin, a dense aura of sapphire-blue energy that made my hair float wildly around my face.
The surge bled directly through my mental tether. Beneath me, Fenris absorbed the overflow. His electrical mane flared and grew massive, his River-Silver frame darkening into a deep, volatile blue as the lightning supercharged his chassis.
I didn't think. I just acted.
I launched myself off Fenris's back, flying through the air. Mid-jump, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the heavy, crystalline orb, and hurled it toward the center of the goblin pack like I was going for a gym badge.
"ACTIVATE!" I roared.
The orb erupted in a flash of light. Bee hit the dirt already fully online. Before the heavy golden-yellow artillery golem even fully stood up, the rotary Gatling gun on his left arm was spinning. He opened fire in a deafening hail of glowing, hyper-condensed kinetic rounds, shredding the front line of the grey monsters.
I hit the ground running, my Soul-Steel broadsword already wreathed in roaring lightning. But Fenris beat me to the punch. The massive wolf didn't just attack; he hit the crowd of monsters like an electrified battering ram, his jaws and claws tearing through grey skin while his electrical mane vaporized anything it touched.
Then, I was in the thick of it. And I went absolutely apeshit.
I swung the heavy broadsword with pure, unadulterated rage, cleaving through the monsters. But I had severely underestimated Thunder Surge. I had been using it as a simple attack buff or a battery boost for Bee. I hadn't felt the true, literal essence of the skill until now.
Thump.
It wasn't just magic. It was my heartbeat. It echoed through the entire clearing, a deep, drumming pulse that vibrated in the air. I could literally feel the atmospheric pressure dropping, the air growing heavy and suffocating on my skin.
From the shadows of the tree line, a new figure stepped into the firelight. It was twice the size of the others, a massive, heavily muscled grey brute. Behind it, a few more of its kind dragged the lifeless, armored body of what I could only assume was a guard hired by the couple.
Thump.
My heartbeat echoed again. The night around us seemed to physically darken, the shadows stretching and warping.
I stopped swinging. I stood up straight, my broadsword humming in my hand, and made direct eye contact with the massive grey monster. For a second, the entire world seemed to freeze. The ground beneath our feet pulsed in time with my chest.
BUMP.
My head snapped up to the sky.
The stars were gone. My Tempest's Requiem Talent clicked into place, answering the unconscious, magnetic pull of my rage. A massive, swirling storm of pitch-black clouds had materialized directly above the clearing. The clouds boiled with violent flashes of internal blue light.
I looked back down at the monster. I felt the connection to the sky above me locking into place.
I smiled. It was a dark, feral thing.
Then, I pulled down the fucking sky.
Dozens of blinding sapphire lightning bolts ripped down from the clouds simultaneously. They smashed into the clearing, obliterating the smaller beasts in deafening explosions of ozone and ash.
But the biggest bolts didn't hit the monsters. Three massive pillars of lightning slammed directly into me, Fenris, and Bee.
It didn't hurt. It linked us. The storm above channeled directly through our cores, bridging the gap between creator and constructs. The clearing was instantly consumed by blinding light, shattered earth, and pure, unadulterated violence.
In a moment of divine, feral, rage-induced magic psychosis, I tapped into the absolute depths of my power. I didn't care about mana conservation anymore. I didn't care about what made physical sense.
I gripped the hilt of my broadsword with both hands and poured the raging sky directly into the Soul-Steel.
Under the crushing pressure of the storm and my sheer will, the metal warped. It violently stretched and expanded, pulling the ambient magic from the air to feed its sudden, explosive growth. I pushed the most absurd, unreasonable weapon image I could think of into the metal—the kind of weapon that had absolutely no business existing outside of a high-octane anime.
The hilt elongated into a massive, heavy polearm shaft. At the top, the metal violently hooked and blossomed into a wicked, oversized crescent blade.
It was a literal Death Scythe.
The massive weapon was forged from pitch-dark Soul-Steel, and it was practically vibrating in my hands. It was taller than I was, heavy, and completely, utterly wreathed in roaring sapphire lightning. It wasn't just a blade; it was an engine of momentum. I could already feel how I was supposed to wield it—using the sheer weight of the oversized blade and the explosive recoil of the lightning sparks to spin, pivot, and cleave through anything in my path with devastating, sweeping arcs.
I spun the massive scythe once, the heavy blade carving a literal trail of blue plasma through the air, and let the long shaft rest in a loose, ready grip.
I looked over at my two golems.
Fenris was practically feral, his River-Silver frame glowing a deep, violent blue under the storm's power, his jaws dripping with ozone. Bee had his heavy legs locked into the earth, his golden-yellow armor gleaming under the storm. His Gatling gun and Meta-Revolver were venting steam, his green optics burning with absolute, lethal intent. We were completely linked by the storm, a three-man strike team running on high-voltage wrath.
I cracked my neck, a dark, manic grin stretching across my face.
"Let's go fuck up their day."
Fenris howled—a sound that literally shook the trees—and launched himself forward like a thunderbolt. Bee opened up with everything he had, the air turning into a blinding strobe light of kinetic energy constructs and railgun blasts tearing into the tree line.
I kicked off the ground, letting the Thunder Surge hyper-charge my legs. I gripped the massive scythe and rode the momentum of the heavy blade, diving straight into the mob of grey, red-eyed monsters.
The battlefield turned into an absolute meat grinder of sapphire lightning and dark metal.
Fenris was a blur of violence. The massive silver wolf cleared the path ahead of me, darting back and forth in jagged, unpredictable zig-zags like a literal chain lightning strike. He tore through the smaller grey goblins, his supercharged jaws crushing bone while his electrical mane vaporized anything that got too close.
From the rear, Bee provided flawless cover fire. Thwip-thwip-thwip! The heavy, rhythmic thud of his left-arm Gatling gun laid down a suppressive wall of glowing kinetic constructs, blowing apart any monster that tried to flank us.
And in the center of it all was me, riding the momentum of a weapon that shouldn't physically work.
With my Agility dialed up and my dual-core Intelligence processing the chaotic battlefield in slow motion, I stopped trying to fight like a traditional swordsman and let my inner anime fan take the wheel. I treated the massive Soul-Steel Death Scythe not just as a weapon, but as an extension of my own center of gravity. I used the recoil of the lightning sparks to spin the heavy shaft, letting the centrifugal force carry me. I was a whirlwind of dark metal and blue plasma, cleaving through the three-foot brutes in wide, devastating arcs.
But the small fry were just an appetizer.
Through the chaos, the massive grey leader roared, shoving past his dying kin. He was eight feet of pure, corded muscle, his red orb-eyes burning with malice as he charged me, raising two massive fists covered in jagged black nails.
"Covering fire, Bee! Fenris, flank!" I shouted, sprinting directly at the giant.
Bee immediately shifted targets, his right-arm Meta-Revolver firing a heavy slug into the brute's chest. It didn't pierce his thick hide, but it made him flinch. Fenris capitalized instantly, lunging from the shadows to sink his silver teeth into the monster's massive calf. The beast roared in pain, swiping blindly at the wolf, completely exposing his upper body.
I hit the ground hard, sliding on my knees under his wild swing. I dug the butt of the scythe's long shaft into the dirt, using it to pole-vault myself high into the air, directly above the towering monster.
At the apex of my jump, I looked down at the snarling grey face. The heavy pulse of the storm hammered in my chest.
If I'm using a scythe, I might as well go all the way, I thought, gripping the hilt with everything I had.
I flooded the weapon with every remaining drop of the storm I had pulled from the sky. The pitch-dark Soul-Steel eagerly drank the volatile magic. The crescent blade didn't just glow; it expanded. A massive, ten-foot-long crescent of pure, roaring sapphire energy erupted from the metal edge, hissing and warping the air around it. It was my own completely improvised, bootleg version of a witch hunter slash.
"Rest in pieces!" I screamed.
Using gravity and the sheer weight of the oversized energy blade, I brought the scythe crashing down.
The super-heated sapphire edge cleaved right through the monster's raised guard, cutting cleanly down the center of its massive frame. The beast froze. For a split second, the blue lightning illuminated the monster from the inside out. Then, with a deafening crack, the massive brute completely dissolved into swirling pale light.
I hit the ground in a heavy crouch. The massive, ten-foot plasma extension hissed and dissipated into the air as my concentration finally broke, but the core weapon didn't dissolve. The heavy, pitch-dark Soul-Steel shaft and the wicked crescent blade remained perfectly solid in my grip.
I let out a breathless laugh, staring at the dark metal. I hadn't just shaped a temporary weapon; under the pressure of the storm, I had permanently forged my new signature blade.
The storm above us instantly broke apart, the clouds scattering to reveal the two moons once again. The deafening roar of battle was replaced by the crackle of localized fires and the heavy panting of my own breath.
I forced myself up, my legs trembling, and leaned heavily against the long metal shaft of my new scythe. I swept my gaze across the clearing. The pale light of dissolving monsters drifted up into the night sky like glowing ash. Nothing else moved.
"Clear," I rasped, my knees buckling.
I collapsed backward onto the dirt, completely exhausted, letting the heavy scythe rest in the grass beside me. Fenris trotted over, the volatile blue glow of his mane dimming back to a soft, crackling simmer, and laid his massive silver head near my shoulder. I reached up, burying my hand in the warm, conductive metal of his neck. A few yards away, Bee stepped into the center of the clearing, his heavy feet planting firmly into the earth as his green optics scanned the tree line, standing absolute guard.
"Good job, guys," I breathed, staring up at the night sky. "We actually survived."
A low, urgent whine pulled my attention away from the stars.
I propped myself up on my elbows. Fenris had moved away from me and was sniffing intently at the wreckage of the campsite. The silver wolf pawed at the dirt near the overturned, heavy wooden wagon, his tail swishing with agitated energy.
I grabbed my scythe, using the long shaft to force myself to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest, and walked over.
The wagon was massive, completely tipped on its side, with luggage and broken crates spilled everywhere. The dead, horse-like beast was still strapped to the heavy wooden yoke, pinning the front end of the cart down.
"Bee, get over here," I called out.
The KBT-type golem clumped over. I pointed to the heavy leather straps binding the dead beast to the cart. "Tear those off. We need to clear the wreckage."
Bee reached down with the smooth casing of his arm cannons and effortlessly snapped the thick leather harnesses like dry twigs. With the beast unhooked, I looked at the massive wooden frame of the wagon.
"Alright, Fenris, Bee. Let's flip it. On three."
I grabbed the wooden siding with one hand while holding my scythe in the other, finding whatever leverage my measly Strength could provide. Bee planted his heavy bipedal legs, wedging his armored shoulders under the reinforced undercarriage. Fenris jammed his broad silver chest against the heavy axle.
"One. Two. Three. Heave!"
Bee's joints whirred, Fenris shoved with the kinetic force of a high-speed striker, and the massive wagon groaned, tilted, and slammed back upright onto its four wheels, kicking up a massive cloud of dust.
Fenris immediately lunged toward the back of the cart, scratching frantically at the wooden floorboards beneath a pile of smashed luggage.
I moved the broken bags aside and traced my fingers over the wood. There was a faint seam. A hidden compartment. I jammed my fingers into the gap and yanked the false floorboard up.
My heart completely stopped.
Curled up in the cramped, dark space beneath the floorboards was a young girl. She had a mop of dirty, tangled hair, clothes covered in soot and dust, and her breathing was dangerously shallow.
She was completely unconscious, but she was alive.
The parents had hidden her before the monsters overran the camp.
I stared down into the compartment, the adrenaline of the fight instantly replaced by a crushing, heavy sense of responsibility. I was a lost, reincarnated nerd who had just barely figured out how to forge a magical metal scythe.
But looking at the kid hidden in the floorboards, I knew one thing for sure: my survival run had just turned into an escort mission.