Supreme Swordfiend

Hours of practice under the moon still saw the rage churning in his gut like acid.

Words echoed in his head as he swung down.

"It's not as intractable a problem as you've been led to believe. Hone yourself."

Hadn't even been a conversation in the end, two sentences from the old man and he'd cut off the call, leaving Leon to stew in anger.

So he trained, pushing through his sword forms until he found the ever elusive peace amid flow.

Failure didn't bother him- not as much as he'd thought it would, defeat serving to quash his worst impulses.

Notably not eliminating them. It only struck him now that his bloodline merely amped up arrogance and confidence; the bloodlust and cruelty came entirely from himself.

A strangely comforting thought, from one perspective at least.

He could have dwelled on his failings, sworn to be better and tried to hold back even more than he already did but Leon knew himself better now.

A storm destroys and a lion cannot stay its claws while on the hunt. Change, like all else, remained a luxury of the powerful.

Strongest of the Tutorial. Earth's Mightiest Warrior. The Stormbound Swordsman. All meaningless titles for a weakling who'd allowed himself to believe he had the power to change now that he'd returned to Earth.

Pointless to consider morality, control of his blood and the rancid impulses placed in his head at this juncture. Pointless to think at all. He had Octavia to point him at enemies and Blondie to put him down if he lost control.

So why not just... give in? Allow the beast to roam free while the man considered a way to cut Versa's foul influence from his soul.

As though a lightning bolt had struck him, Leon snapped out of his reverie and redoubled his efforts.

He failed again. Countless, innumerable times over the hours, yet he persisted fruitlessly.

By the time he ended his training, morning had come once more and a set of eyes along with it.

Mia Serrano's brother had been watching him for a time and Leon could see the act of simply standing upright taxed the boy's atrophied muscles.

He had a pair of puppy dog eyes already trained on the armoured swordsman, unaware that Leon had threatened his life purely to goad a fight.

"Will you teach me?"

Leon's eyebrow rose with a little surprise, a little incredulity. Perhaps the brat knew more than he'd suspected. Perhaps he lived in painful awareness that would die the second anything breathed in his direction.

Not pausing as he strode on by, Leon called over his shoulder, blades once more at his sides and back.

"Ask your sister. You're too weak- I'd wind up killing you. Got three murdered kids on my conscience already, not looking to add a fourth."

Qualifying that two had been illusions and one had been a soulless lizard didn't feel important, so Leon went in search of a bed only to walk in to three bodies seated around the kitchen table.

They'd left him a spot, which he claimed, kicking his feet on to the plastic table top.

Their conversation continued, uncaring of his arrival.

"If they don't fortify? What then?"

"Oh please, they're slavers. Of course they'll turtle up. Better to break the merchandise on site, then ship it off to market ready for sale- leaving poses too great a risk to their profits."

Deciding the talks boring, Leon began flicking whatever he could lay hands on at the wall, scooping loose stones he'd dragged in from the floor. His game came to a halt once he remembered he actually had something to ask.

"Question for the table- how do I get hit by tribulation lightning?"

He'd cut across someone but after a beat, Harald answered him.

"You have but to invite it."

Wordlessly shooting a thumbs up across the table, swinging his legs down, Leon strode out, stripping out of his armour with a mental command. Black metal crawled on to his ring finger, returning to storage as he knelt in the dirt, tank top divested with a tug and a rip.

His blades lay at his side, his four swords to subdue all foes, now quietly waiting for the master's decision.

When he finally spoke, his tone level and measured, no one would have mistaken him for Leon Knox.

A Swordfiend knelt in place and honestly invited tribulation.

"I am thankful. Never doubt that- whatever you are. System, God or Demon. You have given me the means to achieve my dream and that has bought you a merciful end. As surely as Earth will be purged, as the True Demon Sect will die by my sword, so too will you. My blood, my soul, demands no less than uncontested supremacy. This quest is your chance. I am at the weakest I will ever be. I call for your tribulation lightning. Strike me down or live in fear."

As the words had crossed his lips he felt a presence take note of him.

The air crackled overhead.

He felt amusement.

Not his own, but something else's.

No clouds accompanied his trial.

No shift in the weather.

One second he knelt, the next he lay ruined.

He'd caught only the tiniest glimpse of it. A thin bolt of black lightning, one that had burned to the heart of him, scouring him down to the marrow of his bones.

Yet he remained awake. Even as sparks of that foul strike coursed over his skin he persisted in rebuilding his body.

Meat sloughed from his frame, only to regrow and fall again. No blood oozed, every cell burned to naught where the attack had impacted him. A hole no larger than a penny, bored right his chest.

No conscious thoughts could pierce the agony, his flesh crackling and sizzling while the tribulation plucked his nerves and sliced his muscles.

Hours passed, Leon aware of each second that passed, counting them while he chewed his lips bloody.

It passed eventually, as pain always did.

Another moon had risen while he'd been busy surviving, but he didn't care.

He'd been rewarded.

"Quest Complete- Chaotic Fulminator

Reward- Continued Progression."

“Capstone Quest Completed! Further progression is now possible! Displaying possible progression options:

1. Reclass- Choose a new Class from any you qualify for. Retain your accumulated stats, insights, bloodline and any self-created or externally mastered Skill. System-bestowed skills relating to the Class [Chaotic Stormblade] will be lost.

2. Uncap- Accumulate more mana to raise your current class’ level cap.

3. Attempt a breakthrough to the [G] Grade.

User’s current odds of a successful breakthrough are fifty four per cent.”

A better chance to breakthrough, but still too low.

Ignoring the other options, Leon perused his list of available Classes. A list which had grown even larger with time and feats of violence.

His eyes glazed over, absently scrolling to the bottom where a curious choice awaited him.

"[Unique- Stormbound Swordfiend]- Your name already shakes the heavens- and tales spread of how they loose fury at your command. Bound for the storm or by it, either way your path is clear. Power, Speed and Constitution, skills to last you a lifetime and most of all a proclamation that the strongest warrior clan are returned at long last. For the few of a calibre high enough to inspect a [Unique] Class holder at least."

There were reasons not to. Good ones even, but Leon needed power.

“Your Class is now [Stormbound Swordfiend]. You have been issued Class quests! Check your Status for more information!”

As always, he obeyed, eager to see what new challenges he'd be tackling.

"Name- Leon Knox

Race- [Human]

Grade- [H]

Class- [Unique- Stormbound Swordfiend]- Level 0/5

Job- [Uncommon- Coresmith]

Aggregate Level- 36

Stat Block:

HP-1084/1084

MP-1055/1055

Power-185

Chaos Storm Tempered Speed-460

Constitution-184

Intelligence-156

Wisdom-155

Fame-5

Infamy-0

Skills:

[Fiend Eyes]

[Tyrannous Ichor]

[Giant Slayer Style]- Level 1/1

[Demonic Storm Style] Level 1/1

[Shifting Tides Style]- Level 1/3

Quests:

Rising Winds- Master four storm related insights

Progress- 0/4

Reward- Class Skill

Temperance- Storm temper all your stats

Progress- 1/5

Reward- Class Skill

Narrower Focus- Refine or create a sword style worthy of use by a [G] Grade

Reward- Class Skill

Bloodline:

[H] Grade- Swordfiend

Insights:

Embodied Storm- Middle Shallow

Water’s Power- Early Shallow

Air’s Pressure- Early Shallow

Lightning’s Supremacy- Early Shallow"

Nothing unexpected. Less of an obvious through line to the quest order than his previous Class, but then this one had been tailored to him and what he needed.

Closing his status, falling back on the ground and passing out he dreamed of the vortex of black wind, bright lightning and lashing rain he'd beheld as his own soul.

He awoke to a heel pressed into his bare stomach, a battle ready Octavia glaring down at him.

Raising an arm, he forced on a grin.

"Morning! We killing something today or what?"

He dearly hoped she'd say yes.

Removing her boot, she allowed him to suit up and strap his swords back on as she replied.

"As a matter of fact, we are. A slaver gang, small time."

"How small?"

"Oh, they only have a few thousand in chains, nothing major."

"Pretty sure that's a lot."

"Please. A slave world, a few hundred million- that is a lot. Consider this a warm-up, a chance to see how we can all work together."

Mia and Harald stood nearby, respectively nervous and quietly confident.

Belting his last scabbard on, Leon hummed as he thought.

"Yeah alright. When do we leave?

"Now."

With no further words exchanged, portals opened up and dropped Leon on to a hill overlooking a river valley. A spire rose beside the river, belching red smoke into the sky and spiralling out he could make out fields of humans, bound and forced to work. Each one dug at the earth.

Man, woman or child all were brothers in chains.

A squat camp lay behind Leon, with Octavia and Harald mingling in with the few humans who must've managed to escape the slavers. They stood dirty, bloodied and tired but free at least.

Respectable that they'd fought and some must have died for their freedom.

Mia stood a little ways to the side, still as nervous looking as before. Some people got like that before a fight Leon supposed. He'd only ever felt longing for the next time he'd get to draw steel and thus couldn't relate.

Without much thought he sauntered off down the hill, Abyss Brand in one hand, whistling a tune as he walked.

Octavia Caesar meanwhile attempted to talk down an impassioned rebel.

"We can't just sit back- it's our families down there!"

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, she instead tried to explain herself.

"We appreciate that fact, Richard, but try to see reason. You'll die for nothing if you go down there."

The lightning bolt insignia cut upon his leather cuirass stood out as he shifted.

"We're going. Better to die free than suffer slavers to live."

Tossing hair over her shoulder, Octavia left them to their own devices. It would be their funeral.

The blonde spearman spoke up, tone bemused.

"They go with fire in their breast and fury in their hearts. I pray the Grovefather grants them a beautiful grave."

Harald Brandt. Earth's Spear Saint in the flesh, still bound and wasting his potential. Something Octavia would fix in time- for now Mia Serrano occupied her thoughts.

A natural aura user. One in a few hundred million. Rarer than hen's teeth and significantly deadlier.

A line-up of all stars missing their key player.

Turning towards the nervous woman, Octavia tried to keep her voice level.

"Mia darling? Wherever has Leon gotten to?"

Pointing down the hill, Octavia watched as a black armoured figure strolled right up to the gates of the slave camp and began chatting to the guards.

Thirty seconds passed as Octavia realised she'd never told Leon to stay put.

The hail of bullets came first, then the laughter and finally the screams.

All the resistance in the world couldn't have helped her as Octavia beheld the Swordfiend begin another rampage.

"Goddamnit Leon. Alright, let's move."