The Demented hero of Reincarnation -(Damn Reincarnation!)

Edward stood finally taking over the dominion of his body. 

 The iron-rich scent of blood prevailed over any other regional scent lofted in the cavern. 

This fervid scent of iron and decay wafted toward Edward's nose. 

The vista of the cavern, though unilluminated, still provided a hellish view.

Edward, perceiving the scent, was soon condemned to excruciating pain while his vision hazed and his stomach ached.

Staggering to his knees, Edward collapsed onto all fours and started regurgitating his stomach's contents. 

His face paled, and the vomit expelled was a sludge of digesting flesh mixed with other contents, giving it a reddish hue.

Why was his body proceeding to react in such a way, you may wonder? 

Though Edward's soul tested of grievances and trials of the past have numbed and broken him, tethering him to the clutches of insanity, receiving the false perception of freedom and omnipotence… the mortal coil in which he currently resides is merely a temporary vessel provided through reincarnation.

Forget the past, the body which Edward claimed governance over was Biologically aged 15. 

Edward was born into the prestigious Lionheart family and, as such, was accustomed to meals prepared by accomplished chiefs, so his body, when ingesting such revolting and uncleaned flesh, reacted to retract such repulsive meat from his digestive system.

As Edward employed his guts out, a large avalanche was developing on the mountainside.

During the battle between man and spider, the cavern, located by the side of the mountain, was subjected to a large number of powerful vibrations from this location. When mixed with the fresh layer of snowfall from the mana distribution cycle, the snow became overloaded, yielding a snow avalanche after Edward went on a rampage, swinging Azphel in a violent rage. 

Edward, enduring the pain in his stomach, listened to the large amount of noise surfacing from the surroundings. 

"What is that?" exclaimed Edward 

Widening his eyes in realization

Bracing his body with his movement art, Edward ignored his stomach pleads to spot.

Bolting in a stance rushed frantically to escape from the cavern. 

Neering the cavern's exit, Edward viewed the perpetual white blizzard blanketing the ice forest's valley, feeling hope Edward increased his haste.

But the white vista begrimed black abruptly, instantly being covered by the onslaught of snow gravitated down from the avalanche. But did this stop Edward?

No.

Foom!

Boom!

Edward, increasing his grasp on his sword, raised his arm and slashed diagonally, splitting the wall of snow, and jumped out of the crevice of the wall. 

****

Swoosh!

At first glance, it was a thousand-foot fall.

As Edward leaped off the edge, he had no idea he was plunging into a deadly drop.

He lost sight of the cliff from which the cavern descended.

Edward was tumbling down this abyss at an alarming speed, his body out of control.

His arms flailed in every direction, and he swung his sword in an attempt to use Azphel's power to disrupt the mana of the blizzard. However, these efforts were in vain.

Realizing what he needed to do, Edward summoned his sword, Durandal.

Unfortunately, the thick snow from the blizzard obscured his vision, forcing him to rely on the sword's presence.

"Calling of the nether sword, Durandal!"

As Edward uttered the words, he summoned not just a weapon, but a reservoir of his deepest suffering. He forced himself to traverse the shadows of his past, revisiting the moments that had etched pain into his soul. The sheer weight of his agony threatened to consume him, yet he understood that this torment was vital to satiate the sword's insatiable greed for emotions.

Fear welled up within him, a visceral reminder of times when he felt utterly powerless. It coiled around his heart like a serpent, injecting venom into his veins. Anger surged next, a roaring inferno ignited by betrayal and loss; it was a tempest that churned in his chest, begging to be unleashed. Grief, too, enveloped him, an insidious fog that blurred the edges of his reality—each memory like a dagger driving deeper into his spirit.

Negative emotions are the most potent forces we possess, eclipsed only by Love, a thing so abstract and intricate that its complexity brings unparalleled simplicity at the same time. While Edward's experiences were tainted by the scars of his existence, they formed the foundation of his connection to Durandal. For the sword thrived on the chaos of his soul, drawing strength from the disarray he had endured. It was a matching sword that contrasted with him.

It was not the maddening terrors that plagued Edward's mind that he offered up. Instead, it was the raw, unfiltered essence of pain—his sole constant companion throughout his life. With each agonizing recollection, he fed Durandal, forging a bond as powerful as the blade itself.

Manifesting in Edward's left hand was a black rapier whose blade shone an abysmal void, a contradiction to the surroundings the sword's blade absorbed the surrounding light, making the sword's blade seem non-existent the handle pitch black; the hilt was embroidered in a gem swirling with multi colored mist from the seeped memories slowly turning an azura blue. 

As soon as the 'Durandal' blade turned sky blue and emitted a bright ambient light sufficed with the raw essence of emotions

This process took only a few seconds.

 Edward, feeling the blade in his hand, closed his eyes and cleared his mind, focusing solely on the mana surrounding him. 

As if on command, the sword, combined with his already exceptional ice manipulation, acted as a catalyst, accelerating the rate at which the ice essence wove into his cells and mana pathways. 

With his other hand, Edward guided the newly replenished ice essence into 'Azphel' and intensified its power. 

Extending both arms perpendicular to his body, he clenched every muscle, significantly increasing his strength severalfold. 

Condensing the energy held within both swords, Edward released a surge of power and brought the swords together.

 Isaac Newton's third law of motion states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This means that if object Alvin exerts a force on object Bog, then object Bog will exert an equal and opposite force on object Alvin, potentially allowing the object to change its direction of motion. 

Edward utilized this law and exerted a force greater than what he was currently applying. The immense amount of energy required to do this had to exceed the total force exerted during the fall. 

The merging of both forces resulted in a detonation that hurled Edward backward. 

BOOM! 

FWOOM! 

The collision produced a vibrant display of colors. Brilliant blues and crimson red surged forth, punctuated by flashes of ice and sorrow, bringing tangible the hazed cries of his past pains audible.

 The explosion scattered shimmering fragments of ice and light across the surroundings.

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author :} sup hope you enjoy your day

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