Heretic's Molten Blade Heretic's Molten Blade
Heretic's Molten Blade Heretic's Molten Blade
Weapon Effect
Lone Light's Blessing
Lone Light's Blessing
When the equipping character unleashes their Elemental Skill, they gain "Gleam of First Light," which increases said character's ATK by between 18% and 36% depending on how much they have traveled over the last 1s while the effect is active. This effect, which lasts 14s, can trigger once every 14s. It is removed when the equipping character leaves the field.
Lone Light's Blessing
Lone Light's Blessing
When the equipping character unleashes their Elemental Skill, they gain "Gleam of First Light": Every second, increases said character's ATK by between 18% and 36% depending on how much they have traveled over the last 1s while the effect is active. This effect, which lasts 14s, can trigger once every 14s. It is removed when the equipping character leaves the field.
Description
He drew this weapon once more when he first met that God of Flame, revered by all, but it had been too long since he had last used it. When the newly-born flames yet boiled over with steam, and were by them lifted through the seared and pockmarked rocky strata,
After he had dismissed the attendants, and none but he remained in the royal hall, he ceased half-kneeling before the empty throne and stood up.
The sword he drew from the leather scabbard had gone unused for so long that its edge had lost the keenness it once possessed.
However, its owner had taken good care of it, allowing not a speck of dust to sully it across these decades.
In truth, he was no swordsman, for the half of his blood that he hated had conferred upon him strength too far beyond the common clay.
All knew that he had mastered the golden language and could command the rainbow light to a nigh-magical degree, but none knew that he could fight a dragon with his bare hands.
The timing of his coming into possession of this weapon, too, was a tad strange. After the many heroes had swept through a certain stronghold of draconic descendants,
Everyone lit a bonfire amidst the bones and broken mechanisms, and within a few cups had lost any sense of proportion in their speech.
"Everyone knows the best weapon to use against giant beasts is a large two-handed sword! Just watch the creature's movements and BAM! One good hit, and even the hardest skull would be ringing like a bell for half a day."
"Hah. If my venom-tipped arrows hadn't sunk deep into their hides and bones, you couldn't ever have gone for their dumb heads. You can barely put your right foot in front of your left most days!"
"This one proposes that Ixquieh did the most work, luring them into our trap as she did using Phlogiston. Their automaton soldiers had their weaknesses exposed to us for a good while on her account."
"Nah, you did good too, elder brother. Dodging those claw-swipes, swirling and cutting in mid-air one-handed, and all that. Why, you even got onboard one of those dragons and crashed its head into the cliff face, didn't you?"
"Help. Help! Someone get me ticket out of hearing these siblings blow each others' horns! I'd rather hear Maghan play the flute."
"If you think me a poor player, Uenuku, why don't you cover your ears, hmm? It's not as if I can control your arms."
"You know what? We need a judge! That's what we need! Someone to pick the best weapon!" Thus did the raucous crowd turn their eyes toward the red-haired man carrying the meat.
Sealing the mouths of the noisy drunkards shut with the grilled meat, he looked at the one who stood in the shadows. "The best weapon, huh..."
The man who could use all weapons, naturally, could not give everyone a satisfactory answer, but when the man with the flaming hair turned his gaze upon him,
Ah, he thought to himself, so that was it. Indeed, surely it could only be so. He was himself the other's most perfect weapon. How could it be otherwise?
"By the way, you've gone without weapons all this time, right? So, what do you want to use? Whatever you pick... We'll take that to be the best weapon!"
It was only later that he discovered that this was one of that man's aggravating habits — throwing ridiculous questions at bystanders. At any rate, he made his decision...
His answer likely only pleased Ahpub and that man who now did not need to answer a troublesome question.
The latter fulfilled said promise, and it was a deed rich with meaning indeed — fire was brought forth to smelt the works of the ancient dragons, and from them a sharp blade was made for him.
"It's standard practice to make weapons of war from materials we gather from our hunts."
"Give it a try. The material and center of gravity have all been tuned to your proportions."
A weapon gifted by that man could never perform poorly. Many times would he use himself as bait, and use this blade to cut off the bewildered foe's heads.
He swore to use this blade to hunt down all the inhuman heretics, to create a realm belonging only to humans for the one who had given him this sword.
But it had been too long since he had last wielded this sword in battle, and he was never very good at it anyway.
The crimson-eyed young man's face, yet-immature but wrathful, flashed before him with a might not unlike a god's,
And the sword that once slew heretics was wrenched from his hand, and then was thrust into his breast even as he teetered on the brink, about to fall into the mud.
He watched the other party as his body sank into the pitch-black mire.
"Hah... That's right. I see now. It... could only be thus."
Before he closed his eyes, he looked upon the red-eyed young man's flames for moment,
And lo, he took it for the shadow of the cunning crimson fox, face filled with sorrow, flashing across the corner of the collapsing palace.
After he had dismissed the attendants, and none but he remained in the royal hall, he ceased half-kneeling before the empty throne and stood up.
The sword he drew from the leather scabbard had gone unused for so long that its edge had lost the keenness it once possessed.
However, its owner had taken good care of it, allowing not a speck of dust to sully it across these decades.
In truth, he was no swordsman, for the half of his blood that he hated had conferred upon him strength too far beyond the common clay.
All knew that he had mastered the golden language and could command the rainbow light to a nigh-magical degree, but none knew that he could fight a dragon with his bare hands.
The timing of his coming into possession of this weapon, too, was a tad strange. After the many heroes had swept through a certain stronghold of draconic descendants,
Everyone lit a bonfire amidst the bones and broken mechanisms, and within a few cups had lost any sense of proportion in their speech.
"Everyone knows the best weapon to use against giant beasts is a large two-handed sword! Just watch the creature's movements and BAM! One good hit, and even the hardest skull would be ringing like a bell for half a day."
"Hah. If my venom-tipped arrows hadn't sunk deep into their hides and bones, you couldn't ever have gone for their dumb heads. You can barely put your right foot in front of your left most days!"
"This one proposes that Ixquieh did the most work, luring them into our trap as she did using Phlogiston. Their automaton soldiers had their weaknesses exposed to us for a good while on her account."
"Nah, you did good too, elder brother. Dodging those claw-swipes, swirling and cutting in mid-air one-handed, and all that. Why, you even got onboard one of those dragons and crashed its head into the cliff face, didn't you?"
"Help. Help! Someone get me ticket out of hearing these siblings blow each others' horns! I'd rather hear Maghan play the flute."
"If you think me a poor player, Uenuku, why don't you cover your ears, hmm? It's not as if I can control your arms."
"You know what? We need a judge! That's what we need! Someone to pick the best weapon!" Thus did the raucous crowd turn their eyes toward the red-haired man carrying the meat.
Sealing the mouths of the noisy drunkards shut with the grilled meat, he looked at the one who stood in the shadows. "The best weapon, huh..."
The man who could use all weapons, naturally, could not give everyone a satisfactory answer, but when the man with the flaming hair turned his gaze upon him,
Ah, he thought to himself, so that was it. Indeed, surely it could only be so. He was himself the other's most perfect weapon. How could it be otherwise?
"By the way, you've gone without weapons all this time, right? So, what do you want to use? Whatever you pick... We'll take that to be the best weapon!"
It was only later that he discovered that this was one of that man's aggravating habits — throwing ridiculous questions at bystanders. At any rate, he made his decision...
His answer likely only pleased Ahpub and that man who now did not need to answer a troublesome question.
The latter fulfilled said promise, and it was a deed rich with meaning indeed — fire was brought forth to smelt the works of the ancient dragons, and from them a sharp blade was made for him.
"It's standard practice to make weapons of war from materials we gather from our hunts."
"Give it a try. The material and center of gravity have all been tuned to your proportions."
A weapon gifted by that man could never perform poorly. Many times would he use himself as bait, and use this blade to cut off the bewildered foe's heads.
He swore to use this blade to hunt down all the inhuman heretics, to create a realm belonging only to humans for the one who had given him this sword.
But it had been too long since he had last wielded this sword in battle, and he was never very good at it anyway.
The crimson-eyed young man's face, yet-immature but wrathful, flashed before him with a might not unlike a god's,
And the sword that once slew heretics was wrenched from his hand, and then was thrust into his breast even as he teetered on the brink, about to fall into the mud.
He watched the other party as his body sank into the pitch-black mire.
"Hah... That's right. I see now. It... could only be thus."
Before he closed his eyes, he looked upon the red-eyed young man's flames for moment,
And lo, he took it for the shadow of the cunning crimson fox, face filled with sorrow, flashing across the corner of the collapsing palace.