Supreme Swordfiend

"Hold for a moment please Mr Knox-"

A blur in the air.

That's all an onlooker would have seen before the fiend struck, his blade sliding from still sheathe to rapid strike, like a waterfall in motion.

A ferocity Leon had sub-consciously held back flowed freely now, his aura thick enough to blanket the beach.

Blondie wasn't weak. Stronger than Nigh'Queel by far, but less deadly. He disliked admitting this, even to himself, but the spearman had a grasp on both spell and spear firm enough to challenge even a man born to slaughter his way through the Myriad Worlds.

Yet he lacked a killer instinct, a thirst for blood cultivated in life and death conflict. Well trained, but untested.

Seemed that held true for the scraps that had once been Blondie's armour too- he'd torn through it in a haze of blows, the second Ebb and Flow bursting through his skin as Leon siphoned all the power into one arm.

His blood pooled beneath him in the sand yet he stood tall, backstepping and preparing for the end.

"Die full of pride; only one other has forced me to use this technique!"

Fear, delicious fear, had wiped away the serenity again.

"Leon stop! We don't need to fight to the death!"

He laughed as his enemy stopped resisting, spear resting in the sand.

"Aw, what's wrong!? Not having fun? Too bad, blondie! I'm having the time of my fucking life! Hope you're man enough to take this one- Tsunami times two!"

In retrospect, perhaps he would come to regret his actions.

In the moment, he felt only jubilation.

Tearing across the sand, blade holding enough condensed energy to warp the air, striking out at an enemy who'd been toying with him from the start.

Blondie called a barrier of gnarled roots, metal and compacted sand, one formed thick enough to soak Leon's blow.

His heart sank as his sword failed to reach tender meat.

He'd lose if his last gambit failed.

When the smoke cleared a gash had split the entire beach in two, a crater where Blondie's walls stood, with Leon alongside them.

Arm hanging limply at his side, his fist locked in a death grip around his blade

Cracks in the sand allowed seawater to pool at his feet, mingling with the blood leaking from his arm, a rain of sandy debris showering him even as he struggled to stay on his feet.

The mana fuelling Blondie's barricade dissipated leaving the spearman standing there, self-assured smile returning now as he stepped forward.

"Layering a circuit to boost its power even higher at the cost of your body. Intriguing, but in the end your strength couldn't reach me. A good spar, but I believe we are done."

Tendons and muscles wept crimson as Leon forced them to knit back together, his own smile wide enough to show all his teeth, growing wider as his quarry approached. So sure the fiend had been beaten.

"Yeah. We would be. Funny thing, when I used that technique last I blew my arm apart. Still got it this time."

Closer, ever closer. Close enough to taste victory. Sweet as heart flesh and soft like liver.

"A marked improvement in your control then?"

"Nah! I lied."

He watched the fool realise his error, a blunted blade infused with the second Tsunami he'd held in reserve bursting forth. His last hope to claw back a win, to claim a neck with the elements of guile and surprise.

His blade penetrated less than an inch before soft skin turned to hard stone and a spear pierced his abdomen, staking him to the ground. Wavecutter remained in his hand, right arm a mess of exposed bone and mangled flesh.

"I'll ask this time. Are we done?"

He'd lost. A damn of fury and bloodlust burst, draining out as he sighed.

"Yeah, we're done. If you're gonna kill me do it fast. Don't know how long this body'll keep looking good."

Again, his opponent dropped the mask, genuine frustration showing through.

"Oh for the love of the Grovefather... how many times must I reiterate this point? I. Do. Not. Wish. To. Kill. You."

His vision had begun to blur around the edges.

"You should. Wasn't all me, especially towards the end. Good fight, Blondie. See you in the next life."

He faded and woke in a hellscape.

A vision of himself in armour black as night, with a black blade wreathed in a storm, moving across a sea of corpses and cutting open thousands with each swing as he sated his appetites with flesh in both senses of the word.

"Already dreaming of slaughter? They grow up so fast!"

He knew that voice and turning to meet its owner saw her evil red eyes pressed close to his face, yellow sclera barely hiding the hunger which drove her.

She gave a little wave, claws glinting in the light of the bleeding sun overhead.

He spat her name with all the disdain he could muster.

"Versa."

"Leon! I am so pleased to see you again, pet!"

From anyone else he would have bought pet as a term of endearment- from her, it could only be an insult.

After all, pets had owners and in their relationship, he could only occupy the lesser of roles.

She twirled a lock of black hair around a claw, eyeing him like a cut of meat as she spoke.

"See how much you've grown already without those nasty bonds holding you back?"

"Not sure it's worth the price of having my soul monkeyed with."

"That is a fair point Leon- consider this and let it assuage your, frankly, ridiculous fears. We want you, for you. I change too much and you stop being you. So relax, I could fix you up like that."

She picked up one of the corpses and snapped its neck to illustrate her point.

"I won't, but I could."

"How reassuring. Did you want something or are you here just to fuck with me?"

He didn't realise his arm had been ripped off until he saw her toying with it. Whether a dream or an afterlife, this place numbed pain to an itch.

"How would one of you Earth people say it- mind your tone when addressing your betters? Yes, that sounds good."

With a snap his arm had been grafted back on, the demon stretching as she spoke.

"I'm not angry with you Leon, I would hate to ruin you, but our kind aren't rational. Some would kill you merely to grow their Infamy. Others for the disrespect. I don't want to hurt you any more than is necessary."

Rubbing his arm, he met her gaze.

"I take it back, I'm not reassured at all."

Something in the air shifted as Versa moved right past his reply.

"The little mage girl keeps warding you or we'd have spoken sooner. How have you been enjoying my second gift? You must be really, really pent up by now, pet. All full of seeds and unable to find a fertile field to sow them in that you can't imagine killing."

Nice as it was to get confirmation his decidedly unwelcome thoughts about killing every attractive woman he saw, bar Octavia, were a product of this wicked creature's soul manipulation, Leon couldn't bring himself to care.

An outcome of losing, the worst of his impulses pruned back until he saw fit to water them anew with fresh crimson.

"It's not so bad. Keeps me from bedding every woman who catches my eye, I'd get nothing done if I gave in to indulgence."

Her frown pleased him greatly.

"That is so good to hear! Now, I could be persuaded to undo that particular change, for a price."

"What do you want from me?"

He'd never paid much attention to his abuser's body, features hidden beneath a black robe with gilded trim that Versa stripped herself of in one fluid motion.

Scars, toned muscle that contrasted with womanly curves and a proportionally large chest for her short height. Her blushing red skin darkened towards the groin and lightened at the midriff in a way that activated his neurons.

An odd mix of lust, hate and shame flooded him as she smirked and stretched again, pushing out her chest.

"I think you know exactly what I want from you, Leon."

It would've made a better anecdote if he'd had to wrestle with temptation, if hate hadn't emerged as the strongest emotion in the mix, chilling his tone to ice.

"I'd sooner fuck a corpse than you."

"You don't mean that, not really. Even if you do, then you won't in a year at most. Besides, you forget what I am. You should be thankful I'm offering and not taking. Think it over and when you just can't take being out in the cold anymore, run off from your mage and let me know you're at your limit. Whatever happens next... well, we both know you'll have asked for it. Bye, for now, pet!"

He shot awake to smoke and waves.

All damage to the beach had been undone while he'd been passed out, his wounds were gone and the smell of fish cooking over an open flame wafted over.

Seated on chair of roots that softly writhed beneath his weight, Blondie noted Leon's return to the realm of the living without glancing away from the fire or the speared fish.

"Your armour attempted to devour my undershirt while I healed you. I have no idea if that is normal or not."

Everything hurt dully, in the way he would have expected after a week or two of recovery. Taking a seat opposite, he ignored the pointed look and snatched a fish.

Only after he'd crunched through three roasted morsels did he speak.

"You're in. If you still want it."

"Well of course, that was the entire point of our spar- to prove my value to the esteemed Stormbound Swordsman and his enigmatic mage companion."

Leon knew he would hate that name before long. Suppressing a sigh, he kept talking.

"Whatever. You have a name, give it now. Otherwise, I'll just call you Blondie 'till the end of time."

"Harald Brandt, Blessed of Grovefather Borar. It is a pleasure to meet the man whose name already strikes fear in the hearts of the enemy."

He grunted in reply and plucked another spit from the fire.

He'd come up short against a human from Earth. He would need to redouble his training and push his craft to new heights, to say nothing of the lives he'd need to reap and the tribulation he would have to endure to reclass.

All at once he felt very tired.

Blondie tried to be social while the two shared dinner but in his current state, Leon desired solitude.

Eventually, he snapped.

"I'm grateful you healed me and fed me but if you keep trying to make small talk, I'll fucking leave you here. Alright? You beat me and I need to think about that, so you want me to like you? You wanna be on the fast track to best friend status? Shut up for an hour or ten."

No thoughts really entered his head in the hour on the beach, most of the minutes spent watching the sunset dye the ocean a brilliant evening mix until he remembered he'd been due back by lunch.

Groaning, he pulled the crystal out of storage, ignored the seven messages from Octavia and replied with a one-word request for teleportation.

Rising, he ignored Harald's confusion at him moving to stand beside the spearman as the portal opened beneath their feet seconds later, dumping him out by houses they'd occupied.

Whatever look he had on his face headed off Octavia's temper but he could see fury smouldering beneath the calm she fixed on her face. In the background, he spotted Mia and her brother- a problem for tomorrow.

Half-heartedly gesturing to Blondie, he made his excuses.

"Got him. Lost the fight. True Demon paid me a visit while I was out cold, so I'll have that conversation you recommended."

He'd been putting it off. Out of pride and fear, mostly pride, but Octavia had been right.

Time to see if Uncle Cyrus had a way to deal with soul magic.