With his finger, he tore at his stab wound. In one swift motion, he ripped apart his clothing, his skin, even his pecs.
“Here lies one of the nation’s treasured arms, stolen from the palace twenty years ago! Behold Fafnir, the Radiant Core!”
Deep within Vortigern nestled a bizarre heart, so swollen it filled his entire chest.
“Wh-What is that?!” Crow recoiled in horror at the sight. Even with his limited medical knowledge, he knew that a heart so large that it pressed against one’s lungs and esophagus was an abnormality.
And its size wasn’t the only strange thing about it. Like a goldfish in a tank, the shadow of a dragon swam along the surface of Vortigern’s heart.
“GROAR!” bellowed the shadow, glaring menacingly at Crow as it curled around the very center of the heart, where the young man's sword had pierced through.
“This is the dragon that closed my wound,” Vortigern said, a faint sneer playing upon his lips. “Now it lives within my heart, seething at you for having stabbed it!”
“Do I look like I care?” Crow scoffed. Find a better place to live!
Crow mentally left the heart a one-star review for how noisy it was, claiming the sound made it difficult to sleep. He now had a general feel for his enemy’s ability.
Readying his sword once more, he returned the shadow’s glare (while freaking out internally). “They say that he who partakes in the blood from this dragon’s heart can obtain power beyond human limits.” My friend Fukashi said that! “Your physical prowess, your bizarre ability to absorb aetherborn... Those have all been bestowed upon you by that dragon!”
“Huh, you got it,” Vortigern said, readying his fists once more and, like the dragon, glaring at Crow. “Fafnir, the Radiant Core, was originally a piece of a dragon’s heart. Once consumed, it grants superhuman powers. In exchange, it places a curse on the person’s body, threatening to take it over if they falter.”
“What?!” Wait, so it’s just like Muramasa?! Cursed arms capable of taking control of the bearer’s body—Crow knew such terror all too well. Which left him puzzled now. “Are you saying you willingly consumed something so dangerous?!”
“That’s right! And for my troubles, I got all this power!” Vortigern roared. His feet shook, crushing the ground, piercing the earth beneath them in an instant as he closed in on Crow once more.
Crow wouldn’t have been able to react, save that he too was possessed by a cursed arm. Muramasa responded for him, slamming its black blade into its opponent’s deadly fist.
“Die, Crow!”
“Haaaaaah!” Noooooo!!!
Even Vortigern’s bone density seemed superhuman. Sword and fist collided violently, reverberating like steel against steel, the force of the clash demolishing even more nearby homes.
“Eat this!!!” Vortigern roared, clenching his fists and releasing blow after blow as the fierce battle raged.
His superhuman body unleashed a deadly barrage. He struck faster and faster, with two, four, eight, sixteen, and then thirty-two strikes per second raining down on Crow.
The younger man wasn’t (outwardly) intimidated, however.
“Is that all you’ve got?!” Though inwardly, he was like, Holy shit!!!
Swinging his sword with sublime skill, he evaded and parried every last blow, defending himself and unleashing a counterattack!
A deep gash formed on Vortigern’s cheek as he craned his neck.
“Not bad, hero! But I’m not losing! You cannot defeat me!” the terrorist leader bellowed as his attacks became even fiercer, even faster, again and again.
In response, the Black Reaper once more unleashed a flurry of attacks at superhuman speeds as the battle soared to divine heights!
They clashed hundreds of times per second! The deadly blade slashed at Vortigern’s flesh, while his murderous fists tore at the hero’s body! Blood danced in the air like sparks as each etched wounds into the other!
In their deadly duel, pieces of flesh scattered far and wide, dotting the ground like blossoming roses.
Their deafening roars echoed through the air. The ground itself cracked beneath the intensity of their combat, groaning at the endless maelstrom of blows.
Yet the two never faltered. Kicking at the crumbling earth, they leaped high up and clashed in midair.
To be abundantly clear, however—
“Vortigeeern!!!” Stooop!!! This hurts! Everything hurts!!!
The passion for fighting was restricted to Vortigern and Muramasa. Crow, a mere puppet, was about ready to start crying.
Indeed—the unreal battle that unfolded was entirely the evolved Black Reaper’s doing. The young man, as always, was being dragged along, kicking and screaming deep within his heart.
“Haaaaah!” Come on! I’m gonna die at this rate! At the hands of some violent old fart with a giant heart, to boot! And this awful, abusive sword!
As the clash raged on, Crow was certain his body wouldn’t last. He was, however, a mere puppet. Once the battle began, pleading with Muramasa was out of the question. The sword was salivating, in full “DRAGON HEART! MUST BE TASTY!” mode.
And so, there was but one thing Crow could do.
“Vortigern! Stop this pointless fighting!” Please! Please stop! Please, dude!
Yep. His solution was a desperate plea. All he could move while under the sword’s thrall was his mouth, after all.
“Stop fighting?” Vortigern echoed.
“That’s right! You’ve achieved part of your objective, no? You may not have tarnished your brother’s name, but you have taken his life!” he pleaded sincerely.
In his heart, he genuinely thought, I don’t wanna fight anymore! (albeit for selfish reasons), and thus his words carried such force that they gave Vortigern pause.
“The brother you loathed is gone. Is that not enough?! More violence will only harm innocents! You do not bear a grudge against them, do you?!”