Sublime

The Eldest was waiting for him in the forge, so he tossed the Ragnarus heart at the Nye. “Cast this into the void. Let it drift away from existence for all time.” He bowed, his sleeves folded together. “It shall be done.”

That he was still weak. Powerless. That he was still the same useless Unsouled who could change nothing. Lindon reached out with his spiritual sense, connecting to the aura around him. It was easier this time. I fight so I won't be worthless anymore, he

That he was still weak. Powerless. That he was still the same useless Unsouled who could change nothing. Lindon reached out with his spiritual sense, connecting to the aura around him. It was easier this time. I fight so I won't be worthless anymore, he

Then Kiro shook his helmeted head. “I can't. I bear greater responsibility than you can imagine.” He lifted his sword, his shield rising to match it. “And why should I make a deal with you? You're not even an Underlord.” Lindon's Blackflame madra surged, and he reached into his void key. “I don't care,” he said. Then he pulled out a cannon.

Then Kiro shook his helmeted head. “I can't. I bear greater responsibility than you can imagine.” He lifted his sword, his shield rising to match it. “And why should I make a deal with you? You're not even an Underlord.” Lindon's Blackflame madra surged, and he reached into his void key. “I don't care,” he said. Then he pulled out a cannon.

The residual wills of the two Archlord bindings he was fusing together fought him, trying to take control, each fighting the other to determine the shape of the final construct. He had to master them both, commanding them into shape, and use the blue soulfire burning at the heart of the Soulforge to bind them together instead of his own.

There are swords to be wielded by kings and then there are swords to be wielded for kings, with which to do their dirty work. His is the latter.