Chapter 290

Dublin, Ireland - 9:26 AM I crouched on top of a building overlooking Dublin’s Grand Canal, directly across from my next target in Wilton Pa

Dublin, Ireland - 9:26 AM

I crouched on top of a building overlooking Dublin’s Grand Canal, directly across from my next target in Wilton Park. It was smaller than a city block with a raised area for a fountain in the middle and trees planted all around. There was a short, metal fence all around the perimeter. The memory of using spiked fence posts just like these back in Etson put a smile on my face as my eyes lingered on them.

Not for too long, however. There was still work to be done. The fountain had been replaced by Kentucky’s obelisk, standing proud in the middle of the park. Sitting against it, surrounded by submachine gun turrets, was Mary Wells.

The old woman sat in a meditative pose with both hands resting on an iron sword across her lap. She had her eyes closed peacefully, a jarring juxtaposition to the blood and tears in her leather armor. Every so often her dark fingers would twitch and her grip on the weapon would tighten, but then she relaxed.

While the other MVPs I had fought so far had certainly earned their place here, they weren’t what I would call the cream of the crop. Albert simply zapped most everything that came his way, Jean got where she was by being clever with her team, and Grant got by with overwhelming Strength. Mary was the real deal. She was here with everyone else even though she had the basic Swordswoman class.

Mary had also defeated Illinois and Ohio already, which was no small feat.

“I’m going in sword versus sword,” I said aloud. “How’re things looking abroad?”

<<<>>>

[[Patron Message]]

Things are clear in your area. Jamie is searching for West Virginia, so you’ll be joining her after this. Maine is still on the warpath south, and is the current number one in the competition. By my estimates, he’ll be in Pennsylvania around the same time you two reach it.

The west is starting to fall.

<<<>>>

I arched an eyebrow at the cryptic sentence Sara had ended her message with. There was a message in the lack of details, one pointing towards something I had been worried about. Aaron’s avatar, someone Angelic, was accumulating power instead of coming straight for me.

Good. I’d let him. The amount of skill books he’d gain was, admittedly, a little worrying, but he could make a fortress of obelisks for all I cared. He still wouldn’t be able to deal with me when I came calling.

Still, it wouldn’t do to go in unprepared. Especially after I promised Sara I’d be more careful. Standing and stretching, I pulled a piece of paper out of my inventory. The first of its kind I had used in a long while.

<<<>>>

[[Notice]]

You have acquired a Synthesis Page.

Would you like to fuse two skills together?

Yes

No

<<<>>>

I hit Yes and selected Robust Constitution from the Belt of Overwhelming Constitution as the first passive. It had given me more hit points than usual and had been a welcome boon, and I was always going to use a Synthesis Page on it once I reached this point. It was too good not to.

The next was the Superhuman Durability passive, which I had received from Grant. It decreased the damage critical hits dealt to me by half. A well placed knife through the heart would still hurt like hell, but it still became something I could survive more easily. Even if our plan hadn’t been to head for Pennsylvania, I still would have gone after the Heavy Bruiser for this.

Once both were selected, and text box I wasn’t expecting popped up.

 <<<>>>

[[Notice]]

Your race, Half-Angel, and other circumstances will cause the synthesized passive, Supernatural Survivability, to mutate in order to better fit your form.

Would you still like to continue?

Yes

No

<<<>>>

It was fairly rare, but there were chances for a synthesized skill or passive to mutate like this depending on, like the text box said, certain circumstances. They weren’t always good mutations depending on someone’s race, class, any curses that might have been put on them, current skills and abilities gained through quests, and a plethora of other things.

But the system had called out my race first and foremost. That, more than anything else, made me think that this was worth the upgrade. I hit Yes and quickly pulled up the new passive’s description.

<<<>>>

[[Passive]]

Demigod’s Durability

Your body becomes more spiritual by nature, shedding the need for the mortal and taking a step towards eternal life. Increase the amount of hit points you gain per point of Constitution by 50%. In addition, ignore the extra damage from critical hits. You can survive without parts of your body for a short time, allowing Heavenly Hero to regrow them.

<<<>>>

I blinked at the text and read it again. Reaching down, I touched my chest. My body was energized and my heart was beating quickly, though that could have just been my excitement. I didn’t feel any different, but sometimes that’s just how things were.

A laugh escaped from me. This passive was a straight upgrade to Supernatural Survivability, giving me a layer of protection from everything up to and including decapitation. That was the only thing I could think of when the description mentioned losing parts of my body. Unless it meant losing my heart from someone taking it Indiana Jones style. Which, while unlikely, was still within the realms of the system.

<<<>>>

[[Patron Message]]

Excellent! I expected this to happen. You’ve told me about Supernatural Survivability and I was hoping that my plots and schemes would come to this. That was one of the reasons I wanted you to have my vow, other than the fact that I really wanted to be married to you.

Also, your eyes are now orange instead of brown. They’re quite fetching, actually. The next step you take will likely remove the (dormant) from your race.

<<<>>>

“I’m surprised it’s taking this long to stop being dormant, to be honest,” I told the sky, but I smiled as I felt the ring, Esaraphelscion’s Vow, under my glove. “Thanks, love. I appreciate you more than you know.”

<<<>>>

[[Patron Message]]

I can guess how much you appreciate me, and you can always show me later.

For now, Ogun is getting rather impatient with how you’re just standing there, prepping for the fight after declaring that you were going to go sword versus sword. Jamie will probably be mad at you for taking too long, too.

<<<>>>

“Yeah, probably. My bad, Ogun, Jamie,” I said as I retrieved the Vague Stick from my inventory, changing its shape to a sword once again. I jumped down to the street.

It might have just been my imagination, but I could feel Aaron watching me, and I didn’t want to give away anything more than I already had. My abilities as a Warmind were common knowledge that any Patron had access to, but the stuff in my inventory was different. I was ready to use only what I had on me, the Vague Stick, and the Staff of Raphael until I met with his avatar.

I walked over the Grand Canal using Force Fields as I approached Wilton Park. My eyes were locked on Mary Wells as I did so.

Her eyes opened, locking on me. I watched as she swiped open her inventory and pulled out a large turkey leg. She took a bite and tossed it back in before playing around with her menu. A “sacrifice” to Ogun for a boon, probably. The Swordswoman stood up, stumbling slightly, still tapping at the air in front of her, and the turrets all pointed towards the sky.

“I don’t mind if you keep them active,” I called over the distance once my feet were back on solid ground. “I’m guessing your Patron told you the deal?”

Mary snorted derisively before reaching into her inventory again. She pulled out a brown bottle with Ogun’s symbol on it, the same that was at the base of her blade, and took a pull. Taking a few steps towards me, it became evident that she was drunk. I’m sure she was, given the ties her sponsor had with rum. Still, the old woman’s eyes were deceptively sharp.

“I know the deal. Got a quest for it and everything,” she said, her shrill voice not slurring as much as I thought given her stumble. At about ten paces, she stopped. Her gaze traveled down the length of my Vague Sword. “That’s long. Sure you’re not compensating for something, youngster?”

“Don’t worry, I know how to use it,” I shot back. Raising my blade in front of me, I laughed. Considering it was essentially a shapeshifted quarterstaff, it really was much longer than the average sword. “You’ll find that I’m not your average—”

Mary cut me off by raising her finger, and she brought the bottle back up to her lips. I waited patiently, a smile on my face, as she drank. The old woman finished up, wiped her mouth off with her sleeve, and then focused on me. A cone of intense flames shot out of her mouth once she opened it, threatening to envelop me whole.

I wheeled backwards, activating Shield in order to keep my clothes from catching on fire. The flames washed over me, nearly causing me to sweat despite my resistance, before I escaped. Her attack ended, and I immediately raised my sword.

Her blade clashed with mine, threatening to break through the wooden weapon. I had to continually keep it molded into shape so that it would say whole. One wrong move and it would be snapped in half. That would leave me with two swords, given that I can shape the largest one and put it back together, but I might need to pull that off later.

I spun on my heel in an attempt to throw her off balance. It worked, but not in the way I hoped. She stumbled forward and dropped into a roll. Her hand reached out for my leg, causing me to miss the timing on a counter. By the time I executed a step forward with a downward slash, she had tumbled back onto her feet, half facing me with her sword at an odd angle.

It made me chuckle. Odd practitioners were always the most fun to face. She wasn't actually drunk, her aura was too sharp for that, but I'd let her play like she was for now. 

She flashed forward, causing me to take a step back as I parried her thrusts. The long, straight blade she used came right for me, but not in the usual places. I had gotten used to Jeff going for the vitals like the heart and neck, conditioning his opponents to protect one area before abruptly changing targets. Mary went after whatever she pleased.

My legs, my hip, my shoulder. They would all hurt, but none of them would be a debilitating blow. It was chaotic, but I didn’t want to bleed first and I continued parrying. She took a step forward, overextending as she thrust just above my head. Her eyes were set on mine, and I swung. She took another step, running into my body with her own. The sword stayed in the same place, however, hovering over me like a guillotine.

I stayed in place despite her body blow, much to her surprise, and the pommel of her sword came down on my shoulder. If I had been knocked back then she could have cut right into my skull. As it was now, her strike bruised me but that wasn’t first blood. My sword arm connected with hers as she blocked me, and I twisted my wrist.

Mary oozed down my chest, but I adjusted the path of my blade and struck her in the back. It cut through her armor, leaving a bloody line on her skin. The Swordswoman continued downwards and, once free from my arm, she stomped on the ground.

The pavement shifted, pushing me away and getting some distance. I kept watching Mary the whole time. Her surprise was genuine, and that amused me. She hadn’t come across any peers in swordplay since the first time she picked up a blade in the monster apocalypse. Not until now, anyway.

“You're just playing, aren't you?” she asked with narrow eyes. There was an accusation in her voice, and something wild in her eyes.

I blinked. There was fear in her aura. Not that she was going to die, because that wasn't possible here, but of something else. I shook the realization off. “I did say sword against sword for a reason.”

“You could have killed me already, even with the system,” Mary complained. “But you went for damage instead of taking my head. I'm not some spring chicken that can't see a gap when it's presented to me. Taking pity on this old woman?”

“I respect your game,” I told her with a shrug. “And, sometimes, I like to give people sporting chances.”

“Game?” she scoffed, clearly offended by the implication. Anger replaced the fear in her aura. “What, like playing a game for my soul or something?”

I said nothing, raising my sword.

Unfortunately for her, she was the type to prefer when she was the clear victor, and that just wasn’t going to happen. We both knew it, and she accepted it.

Mary reached beside her and pressed the air. The turrets whirred to life, turning to point at me. There were five in total, arranged like a star around the obelisk.

Pulling her foot backwards and deactivating the skill from earlier, Mary set her sword and the pavement I was on slammed me forward. I rode it as the turrets started firing, putting my blade out in front of me. Mine was much longer.

Once it became obvious that I was ready and willing to simply spear her through, she changed tactics. Our blades clashed when the concrete came to a stop. The turrets’ aim caught up with me, and the bullets struck my back. They didn't pierce as they were still the basic offensive option, but they left welts on my skin through my clothes. 

I ducked under a blow meant for my chest and sliced her side, getting around behind her. All but one of the turrets stopped when they no longer had a clear line of sight. Sword versus sword, to me, meant no Shield even if I couldn't turn off my passives. This much damage was fine.

We danced as she tried to stop being a human shield. The turrets would have been a game changer if they could all fire on me. Upset, Mary’s weapon glowed with a bright light as she activated one of her class abilities, likely Pristine Cut, and my Vague Sword was sliced in two. There wasn't enough shaking in the world that would have prevented that. 

Without hesitation, I stepped forward into her space. The last turret, which had lit up my side, stopped firing. Her return slash was cut short, dealing damage to my shoulder instead of my neck like she wanted.

I reached out and snagged the separated blade out of the air. It cut into my hand as I gripped it tight, drawing blood. The moment I had a good grip on it, I stabbed downwards. Mary attempted to step backwards, but I was already in her space and followed after her. She grimaced as it was lodged into her shoulder. I anticipated her counterattack and reacted before she could activate the ability.

Blinking backwards into the perfect position, Mary’s counterattack was so quick that I couldn’t see it. The slash hit me across the chest. I had managed to take a step, but it was still deep. The attack tore up some of my ribs in the process. With my cut hand still hovering near her, I stepped forward and grabbed her gray hair.

The next instant she was doubled over with my knee connecting with her face. The woman twisted the sword into a backwards grip and slashed at me. The anger in her aura was starting to be replaced with frustration at first, and slowly with fear. 

This cut would be shallow against my side, and I allowed it. I let go of her hair and dipped back, only to bring my back foot forward a half step and raise what was left of my sword. She prepared and executed what would have been the perfect parry if what I had chosen to do was attack. The moment her sword was out of place from my feint, I struck.

Once again, she activated one of her skills. My blade soared through her torso. Mary grimaced, taking some damage from the blow. What should have killed her instead merely hurt her. Once my sword was free, I followed after her, denying her the chance to escape cleanly. Now that our blades were even in length, I no longer had the range advantage.

Regardless, Mary's strikes were getting more frantic, and it was becoming easier to parry even though her attacks became heavier. 

Mary’s drunken act hadn’t lasted, and neither did her composure. The old woman regarded me as though I was death itself coming for her.

I blinked at that thought as I parried one last time, spun, and thrust my sword behind through her heart. I immediately transitioned to a slash, sending a Distant Slice towards the turrets that reactivated after their owner disappeared. 

They did not last long after the duel ended and I showed myself the use of my Warmind abilities. 

The half of my Vague Sword embedded in Mary's shoulder and her skill book fell to the ground. It had been my intention to let the duel go on for a few minutes, really give Jamie a good wait, but my mind was stuck on an intriguing idea.

<<<>>>

[[Notice]]

You have knocked Avatar [Mary Wells], Swordswoman, out of the Star Spangled Shadow Invasion.

Defensive Option: Mini Sword Golem has been unlocked at all obelisks.

Kentucky’s obelisk will now be marked.

<<<>>>

“Sara,” I said, snapping away the screen without really looking at it. “Does Angel of Death do anything more than what it says? Like, do I have presence now? Because I thought I trained myself out of that so I didn't come off as threatening to most people.”

<<<>>>

[[Patron Message]]

I’m not entirely sure. The Entwined description leaves a lot to be desired, even to me. It might have something to do with you being recognized as an Angel of Death, or it might just be your socks. Did you forget about the other passive they had because all you could focus on was Comfort Plus?

<<<>>>

“Other pass—” I started before looking down at my feet.

The black socks I wore, which were trimmed in gold, had been something Sara went out of her way to get for me. At first they were comfortable and curse resistant, but Ashley had gotten her hands on them and merged them with the Golden Fleece from the tale of Jason and the Argonauts. Snapping my fingers, I pulled up the description of their second passive.

<<<>>>

[[Equipped]]

Wool Socks of the King

(+5 Dexterity, Comfort Plus passive acquired, Curse Protection passive acquired)

[[Passive]]

Comfort Plus

Any piece of clothing with this passive will remain completely clean and comfortable no matter what the circumstances.

[[Passive]]

King’s Authority

The way you carry yourself proves that you are a man deserving to be called true royalty. When included in an offensive area of effect ability, skill, or spell, there is a chance that you are not affected. In addition, you deal 20% more damage to those who have a lower stat total than you do.

<<<>>>

I scratched the back of my head. It didn’t say outright that I exuded kingliness, but it could be inferred. Thinking back on it, the only people who had tried stepping on my toes after I got the socks were those who were pushed into it by their Patrons. Tanvi certainly didn’t seem on the top of her game when she confronted me, but that was only one time.

More data would have to be gathered.

“Kind of forgot about that, to be honest,” I admitted sheepishly. There was no response from Sara, but I could imagine it easily enough in my head.

You and your Comfort Plus obsession, she’d say.

“My bad,” I offered with a light laugh as I walked to the obelisk. I placed my hand on it, ready to wait for it to be mine.