Yuriko was once again back in the fray. She switched out her longsword for a couple of short swords, each one only had twelve inches of blade. Unlike the longsword, the shortsword was meant to stab more than cut. It still had an edge on either side of the blade, however, so that was fine with regards to her ideal. 

Or rather, wasn’t stabbing practically the same as cutting? After all, it wedged apart flesh, just that the force was more focused on the tip rather than along the edge. With her prodigious strength, it didn’t really matter much against most foes, but thrusting attacks were inherently more lethal than slashing, since it could hit vital organs rather than severing muscle and skin. 

Still, her dance was reminiscent of her earliest style, when she used two sideblades in the Shillogu Woods. Unfortunately, neither thrusting or slashing proved lethal to the blobbies by themselves. She had hypothesized that the blobbies might have a central core, like Elementals, just that they would be more concealed within their pliant flesh. She searched for it, thought that they moved at their whims, and eventually, destructively searched by flaying everything open. When she found nothing, she forced her perception into a living blobby and endured the pain of it only to realise that the blobbies didn’t have a physical core. Every particle of their bodies were self-contained and could survive on their own, but they were also predisposed to work with each other.

It was something she half suspected, seeing it happen from the corner of her eye. When she sliced up two blobbies and swapped their parts around, they merged with the different part and formed a new blobby. Ancestors.

Still, there must be something containing their consciousness. She didn’t think individual cells could actually think…right? She had not read up on the subject, given that it was painful to read for more than ten minutes at a time. Ten minutes out of an hour was the best way she could get around her headaches, and she could do it while doing something else. In a pinch, she could do ten minutes reading, ten minutes resting, but the headache built up over time and eventually she couldn’t keep it up. She wasn’t sure why she still had trouble reading, considering that her body had been refined—and that included her brain—so why? Perhaps a matter of her Anima?

She didn’t know, but perhaps as she pushed along her Exaltation, the issue would eventually resolve itself. She could read Old Imperial, or Dawntongue, Dawnspeak, or whatever others called what was essentially the underlying language of the Myriad Planes and the rest of the world, probably the language of the Primordials? 

She could feel Dawntongue getting easier to understand. Dragon Fall City used a variant of it as their language, along with heavily accented Wojan, which, now that she thought about it, was strange. How can one common trade tongue persist across vast distances without changing more than accepts and local flavours? She was sure the Myriad Planes didn’t have any contact with Arcadian or the Eternal Tower, yet Wojan was understandable here. 

Perhaps…an Ennoia? Risen to its highest point and supported by a God Monarch? That was a chilling thought, but the language was useful. It ensured that she, and the others with her could communicate no matter what wherever they wound up in. She could still feel the itch of her Davar wanderlust, though it was tamped down at the moment. She was someplace new and exciting, after all. 

But returning to the blobbies. How did they think, and how did they continue to act? Each one exhibited independent movement even if their body parts were swapped out. Their looks and form altered to fit the shape of the head, so even if she crossed one blobby that looked like a worldkin and another that looked like a Durandir, the parts that didn’t fit the wolfkin’s head shifted to look like that, and the same with the Durandir. 

It told her that the head, or close to it, was where the seat of its consciousness and identity must be, and she had a feeling that if she cut that bit out was how she would kill the blobbies without incinerating them with Radiant energy. Now she only had to find out the exact point. She had tried hitting every part of one blobby, but it didn’t work. So either she was wrong, or the part could move. It was not physically distinct from everything else though. What if it was their Anima? 

She had no way to distinguish someone’s Anima unless it was projected out of their body, and cutting something she couldn’t see just made it that much more difficult. She wasn’t even sure if she was right but anything alive had an Anima. It may be tiny compared to the rest of the body, like it was with plants…

How did she know that though? Damien’s memories? 

Well if they were there already, she might as well capitalise. With a few strands of consciousness, she delved through the memories she carried. At the same time, she continued with her experiments and her sword dance. After a day or so, she forged a new sword with a different shape. She was in the mood for rough swordplay, so she forged a chopping blade. It was almost an axe considering how heavy the blade was compared to the hilt. It was roughly twenty inches long, and about a couple of inches wide. The dance was more based on momentum than anything else. She made sure the edge was still razor sharp, otherwise what was the point of contemplating the ideals of cutting? 

Hmmm.

Could she cut with a dull blade? 

It turned out she could. If she swung fast and hard enough. She hit with the back of the blade, and it tore through the blobby just as well as the sharp edge. Of course, their skin was softer than actual, humanoid skin, but that was only if they left it unenhanced. Those with scales and those with fur, were just as tough as their actual counterparts. With a dull blade, the cut wasn’t as clean, but that was obvious. With speed and power, the dullness was overcome. 

So her new Sword Style must encompass both. But the more important point was if she could pinpoint the enemy’s vital point. 

A memory surfaced from the depths, and she found it. A way to see Anima within the body, especially bodies that were amorphous or gigantic. She focused on the Anima in her eyes and adjusted the way she perceived things. It was reminiscent enough of Chaos and Elemental Sight that it happened quickly. Then she saw something within the blobby’s body. A point that was slightly brighter than the others. She gave the spot a heavy chop. She was sure she hit the spot, but nothing happened other than the blobby falling apart. It wiggled by her feet while she carved up the others around her. She could see the sparks within each one, but every time she stabbed or cut, nothing else happened. She was tempted to infuse her Anima into her blade, but the Radiant energy would be the one to ignite the thing instead of her sword striking the Anima. 

It took her several embarrassing hours before she got the trick. It was simple, too, and all it needed was Intent. The Intent to cut the spark within her foe. The blade chopped into the body and the spark, and the latter extinguished. The blobby fell apart into a goopy puddly beneath her boots. 

With a grin, she did the same to every blobby she could reach. The chopping blade carved a massacre into the crowd. The spark wasn’t always at the same place, as she expected, but moved about in the things’ upper body. It was the work of a minute to clear the field, and she didn’t spend a single Radiant mote to do it. Her Intent didn’t feel weakened either, and she felt she could use the technique for as long as she had strength within her body. 

A spark of insight flashed within her mind, and the work of several days, a couple of weeks now that she reviewed her time sense, coalesced. The Fifth Phase of the Sword would be called, Severing Shard. 

___________

Despite his better judgment, Heron stomped down the hallway, his footsteps loud against the tiles. Any harder and he would crack the flooring, and while he didn’t mind that, the rest of the residents would. He was in a foul mood after the call he received from Gwendith, though she reassured him that they weren’t in any danger. He tried calling Yuriko through the Autotab but she was not within range. He didn’t know how to cast her reliable True Connection spell, so he could only wait for his lover to contact them. In the meantime, Gwendith asked him to retrieve whatever was left behind in the apartment. It was mostly clothes, some weapons, and ammunition.

He wasn’t sure what to do afterwards. This rotting city. It had its sweet parts, but the bitter was all too obvious. From what Gwendith told him, some corporation mooks attempted to apprehend Ryoko, with no stated reason whatsoever. Then Devotee protected her, and killed some of the goons in the process, which then touched off a manhunt that got Gwendith involved. Ryoko was a non-combatant as well as Yuriko’s handmaiden. Devotee was a brutal Chaos Lord that was leashed to his beloved. He was a rather happy-go-lucky fellow, but once he was touched off, he had no lines he wouldn’t cross. Things might have been better if the Chaos Lord didn’t kill the goons, but Heron suspected that might not have mattered in the long run. Why send several squads after a few people, and if the account was right, a REI-spacewalker had been utilised to track them through the mega building’s security cameras. Why?

That was what he needed to find out. Ilvara had been curious at the change in his expression, but he didn’t confide in her. She was a stranger, albeit one that was eager to put her nose in his business. She had hinted at it several times during lunch. He reviewed the offer she presented rationally, and agreed with it provisionally. 

In essence, Ilvara Erdmann, as a recruiter for Millenium State Conglomerate, wanted to hire him, as well as a team he put up, as a mercenary to join in the upcoming Delve. There was a qualifying test in a few weeks, and the delve would happen at the end of the Season in about nine weeks. It was a way to finally move on from the Tower’s ground level, but then, this rotting scenario happened. 

He left Ilvara afterwards, and she seemed happy enough with her gains. He had signed a letter of intent to join the mercenary qualifiers with the goal of joining Milstate’s side. It was by no means binding, Heron thought, after he read through the entire contract, but it would also mean that his name would be known to anyone who wanted to participate. He also wasn’t sure what the actual delve was going to be about, but he figured he’d eventually find out. The important thing was that they had a way in. 

Now the only thing he needed to do was find out who had instigated this, and end them. 

With a rough snort, he finally reached the correct hallway and he stomped his way towards their group of apartments. The door was ajar. He shoved it wide open and stepped inside. The living room was a mess, and the bedroom door was also open. And lying on top of the sofa was a corpse that looked like it’d been shelled out of its powered armour. Standing next to it was Yuriko’s other handmaiden, Saki. In her hand was a kitchen knife. A bloody knife. 

She looked at him and nodded. “Found out some things.”

Heron grunted. “What is it?”

“It’s the usual. Scurvy dogs after the young mistress.” Saki’s voice was rueful. 

Heron sighed. “Alright. You know who?”

“No. But it shouldn’t be hard to find out. They,” she pointed the knife at the corpse, “are from a private security company called G-Tech Solutions. I’ll go track them down, and see if they’re anything more than hired muscle.”

Heron nodded. “Then I’ll do what I came here to do.”

Saki nodded. “Careful, we’re also marked.”

“I dare them to try.” And with that, Heron marched into the bedroom and started to pack.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep