Supreme Swordfiend

Leon's strategy remained the same for facing the two new challengers- take care of the spinosaurus first, cripple the legs. Though this time he hoped the fireball in the flaming rex's throat would do most of the work for him.

The spinosaurus paid the swordsman no mind, all its focus allocated to charging the flaming lizard, its reptilian brain very well aware that excessive heat was bad news for an ectothermic animal.

Before the spinosaurus could cross the distance, the flaming tyrant discharged its burning payload, a ball of fire spewing forth, aiming to impact against the spinosaurus and burn through its face. The ball of gas burst open delivering an explosion that left Leon's ears ringing, his sword strike halted as he was launched backwards due to the concussive blast, made to watch the aftermath of a single attack from the slain king's successor from a prone position a few metres away.

The aggrieved roars quickly turned to pained howls, as the venomous lizard's face was eaten through by what appeared to be liquid fire, the gelatinous flames clinging to the beast and burning through bone with ease; as though it were paper.

The scent of gasoline tinged the air as liquid fire dripped onto the forest floor, burning even the dirt, consuming all it touched.

Leon was left to imagine the agony the beast was enduring, as its resistance crumpled in the face of certain death- the damned t-rex had napalm fireballs.

It died within seconds, the potent fireball having ended its life, a dodge to the side kept Leon from being crushed under the collapsing corpse. Recalling his hope that the fireball would do most of the work on the spinosaurus, Leon's mind conjured an image of a monkey's paw slowly curling, as he pulled himself to his feet, pulled his sword into a fighting stance and allowed his boiling blood to reach a new peak.

No time for thinking now, only action.

Leon did not charge straight away, watching, waiting for an opening. There were times for reckless abandon but this was not one of them. The tyrannosaurus was equally wary. Its mouth no longer leaked cinders and the lustre of its scales had dimmed. It kept its mouth open, venting heat, one beady eye locked on Leon, the other on the burning corpse.

The implication that it couldn't fire those balls in succession was enough for Leon to act. Pushing his aching body to the limit, the swordsman raced towards his foe, the tyrannosaurus whipping its tail around to punt the tiny human away.

Unfortunately, Leon was prepared this time. Front flipping over the tail, he slashed out with Bladeless, cutting into the extended appendage, severing it at the halfway point and leaving the lizard with a bleeding stump. A bellow of agony followed as the beast pivoted to face Leon, stumbling slightly under the new imbalance.

This was another opening Leon exploited, clubbing the side of the dino's head with a Circle Swing, Bladeless' weight forcing the beast to stumble sideward, opening it up to further attacks.

Carving into the lower jaw with a Double Fang, Leon began feeling lightheaded, his breaths short and ragged, the air around him more smoke than air. In between slamming the t-rex's head back and forth with the rough edge of Bladeless, Leon was now circulating energy, attempting to see if the effects of smoke inhalation could be countered.

The results were mixed. He could counter the cellular decay caused by the smoke and gas. He could not force out the foreign particles once they got into his lungs- that took fresh air and time presumably. He was only treating the symptoms, not the disease, which was growing more aggressive by the second, his head pounding, his vision clouding and his heart rate rising, the organ struggling to provide the oxygen his body desperately needed.

His course of action became set, though it was one Leon wished he needn't take. He knew he needed to retreat, knew that the dangers of even short-term exposure to carbon emissions were extreme.

Still, his bloodline raged against this, the primal monkey ape part of his brain screaming that they could still win, that retreat was defeat and defeat would not be tolerated.

He pushed past these feelings, turning and fleeing from the smouldering clearing, leaving the scaly source of the fire with a couple of heavy wounds and a pounding headache of its own.

Leon ran, zigging and zagging to hopefully form a wall of trees between himself and the t-rex. He ran until he was free of the smoke, until he could feel air flowing into his lungs again. The nausea and headache cleared, his vision sharpened and he promptly retched into the dirt, holding on to Bladeless to keep himself upright.

Once again thankful that he had skipped breakfast, the swordsman pulled himself together, spent a fraction of his energy on healing the damage done to himself and prepared to return to the fight.

It was at that moment his bloodline asserted itself with more forcefulness than ever before. Leon felt ashamed that he had run from a battle and his bloodline amplified that shame, informing him in no uncertain terms that retreat from a battle he could have won would not be tolerated.

If pushed Leon would not have been able to clearly explain how he knew this, the information imprinting itself in his mind. It was similar to how he easily grasped the fundamentals of any new sword style he trained in.

A wave of pain began emanating from his chest, spreading through his body, reaching the tips of his extremities before rolling back into the centre of his chest. A tolerable pain, as though someone was poking every inch of him at the same time.

The second wave felt like someone punching him. Less uncomfortable, more painful than before but still bearable. The pattern was clear at this point, Leon began preparing himself to outlast this torture.

After the fifth wave of agony, which had left Leon writhing in the dirt clawing at his face and begging for release he felt something within him break. A great dam had been broken in the depths of his soul and power flowed through. The pain stopped abruptly.

A blue box was the last thing Leon expected to appear at that moment.

"Bloodline Awakened- [H] Grade- Swordfiend (Sealed, 0% Unlocked).

A supreme bloodline that confers absolute mastery of the sword to its bearer. This bloodline grants access to a certain number of exclusive Classes, Jobs and Skills. No technique, no style, no art is impossible for a Swordfiend to master. They are also gifted with a prescience unlike any other. A Swordfiend can rely solely on their bloodline to distinguish prey from predator, able to gauge a being's strength purely through the sub-conscious application of their bloodline.

In exchange for these gifts, a Swordfiend will grow increasingly arrogant, overconfident and foolish as they achieve successive victories. It was not uncommon in the early days of the first universe to see a Swordfiend lose to an opponent they knew their lesser, the Swordfiend holding back their true power in search of a good challenge and losing their life for their overconfidence. Loss or a close fight will curtail these impulses, the former for a longer duration than the latter. There is no known way to erase them.

Retreat for a Swordfiend is impossible; as long as they believe they can win they are compelled to fight on, lest their bloodline inflict terrible pain upon them. The Swordfiend is then tortured with steadily increasing agony, until they return to the fight and wash the stain on their honour out with fresh blood.

Your bloodline has been sealed by an outside force, greatly lessening the effect of both its boons and banes while keeping it bound at [H] Grade. You will need to unseal it by consuming lesser bloodlines. Even while sealed, your Swordfiend bloodline is more than capable of devouring any intruders in its domain."

It was the longest description Leon had seen the System provide, more detailed than any other, with direct reference to him.

It was a confirmation that Leon wasn't going insane at least. The foreign compulsions, the strange instincts, his lifelong obsession with the sword. All these stemmed from this, his lineage.

He would pick through the description line by line later- he had a fight to win.

Another ball of fire and napalm tore through a tree to Leon's right, the wood burnt to gas, the ground reduced to a smouldering pit. The collapse of the tree spurred Leon to action, Bladeless once more in his hands, his body moving him out of danger before his brain could even process it.

The second fireball tore into the ground where Leon had been lying prone, another burning hole to run from and keep in mind. The flaming tyrant stood a distance apart, charging another fireball in its throat, the ominous glow visible even from this distance.

It looked thinner, frailer, which led Leon to believe the creature was overclocking whatever biological process supported its napalm attack, burning through its biomass as it burned down the woods around them. It also gave him an idea.

If he could pin its mouth closed while it was still charging up, he could force a detonation within the creature's own mouth.

It was risky, stupid even. He could win any number of other ways, he hadn't even drawn Wavecutter yet or used a drop of his mana.

This would be extremely cool to do though. It was never enough to just win. A Swordfiend had to dominate, to do it in style.

Mind made up, Leon charged the dinosaur, holding his breath as the smoke flowed forth, the early morning light at his back.

He felt his enemy's eyes lock with his own, pure unbridled hate met a smug self-assurance and another fireball rocketed forward, directly at the tiny biped who dared stand against a true king.

The force of the blast alongside a last-second leap carried Leon up and forward, into the waiting maw of the tyrannosaurus, already beginning to flicker as a new fireball formed in the back of its throat, his blade crashing through the creature's tongue, dragging the beast's head to the floor and leaving it pinned in the dirt alongside Bladeless.

Only then did Leon realise the magnitude of his decision. Bladeless would not make it out of this unscathed. Sheathed to the hilt in the earth beneath him, Leon silently thanked the sword he'd found so useful, despite its unwieldy length and weight, for all the hours of service it had given him. He would always remember it as the weapon that had inspired the Giant Slayer Style.

A worthy end for a noble tool, felling a gigantic lizard king. Leon saw the tell-tale flicker in the beast's throat that precipitated a fireball emerging, even as it thrashed and bucked against the weapon that had pinned its mouth in the dirt the blazing monarch still prepared to incinerate Leon.

Retreating behind a tree, Leon felt the explosion before he heard it. The tremors it sent through the earth were sufficient in informing him of its might.

"You have slain a Level Twenty-Five Flamma Tyrannosaurus Rex!"

"Level up! You are now a Level Twenty Swordsman! +2 Power, +2 Speed, +2 Constitution, +5 Intelligence, +5 Wisdom!"

That level made all the pain worth it, the pain of the level itself little more than a tickle compared to the agony his bloodline had inflicted on him. Leon's irritation at the minor annoyances of the day washed away and he felt a feeling of peace wash over him.

It was shattered as a headache set in again, the smoke doing little good for Leon's taxed body.

The Flamma Tyrannosaurus Rex had blown its head apart, alongside most of the ground beneath it. He collected what remained of its corpse, sure it would make for good material.

Hoping against hope, Leon searched for his sword. Perhaps its enchantments had protected it?

He found a melted pile of slag metal, the once fearsome blade gone.

He stored that too and began moving towards home, joyous at his victory, crushed by the cost.

Turning his nose up as he walked off, Leon was struck by a realisation.

"Man, napalm smells awful."