B5 Chapter 626: Bloody Baptism, finale.

The last of their work passed in a frenzied blur of activity. Kaius could feel the presence of his latest oath, worming through the fires of his soul. Its presence didn’t bother him — he’d already agreed to keep the location of the Wellspring to himself, and his word was his bond.

He had given up little, and gained much in the way of safety. There were many dangerous secrets that had been impossible to hide. The nature of his blade was just one aspect of it. The reaches of his strength was another, as was the nature of his magic. Half of the advantage of glyphbinding was that no one was ready for a spike of steel to shoot from his hands without channeling. Now, that knowledge would stay with the nobles.

Though, there was a time limit on that advantage anyway. It would only be so long before glyphbinding and keyseals would spread from the Spires now that he and Ianmus had shared their knowledge.

Kaius hurled another stone away, his blood-soaked arms leaving handprints on the fractured surface. He’d already cut the heart free from Katarex’s chest. It sat safe in his storage ring, ready for the soonest possible opportunity he could feed it to A Father’s Gift.

The last stones were tossed aside, and they were finally ready. Porkchop had carved a wide and shallow channel in the stone by the base of the tail. It ran diagonally down the hall, right into a depression just slightly larger than him. It was a rough job, but they were working on a time limit — and they’d needed to leave space to fill up the bathtubs.

Kenva worked at the tail itself at a frenzied pace. Packed full of energy, the blood vessels of the wyrm glowed like the sun to her Farsight. Steel flashed as she rammed her dagger under layered scales, levering them free as quickly as possible. A ragged line of pockmarked flesh stretched down, right to the base of the tail.

“Here!” she said, stepping back and pointing at two locations towards the centre of the tail. “Punch in and cut down, you’ll sever two major arteries. Strike exactly, any higher and you’ll hit the spine.”

Gleaming crystal slid from his scabbard. Kaius twirled his blade, feeling its weight. It would be the last time he would get to use it before its transformation — and what a fitting use it was. Giving Kel and one of the retainers a nod, he waited for them to be in position to catch the coming flow with one of their ridiculous tubs. As soon as it was full, they’d draw it into their storage artefacts and summon the next one, leaving Porkchop’s channel to catch any of the spillage.

Investiture seared a baleful red. Kaius thrust.

Even dead, striking the wyrm felt closer to cutting through chainmail and braided cables than hide and flesh. Yet cut he did, guiding his sword with a mastery gleaned from a thousand battles. The roaring fires of Investiture sliced through the meat as Kaius punched in directly where Kenva had pointed. He cleaved down in a single, fluid motion, the tail parting with a wet tear.

Still-boiling blood gushed free from the creature in continuous glugs. Kel rammed his tub into the loose flap of tail, pushing it aside to catch every drop in his tub. Steam wafted high, rich with draconic might. It was still blood, rich with the scent of iron, but the power. It filled Kaius’s nose, his heart racing as he was overcome with a bouquet of victory and slaughtered prey. Richer than platinum wine, it rippled with budding promise.

The first tub vanished when it was half full, replaced by Steelroot’s monstrosity of silver filigree. The nobles muscled it into place quickly, but two glugs of steaming red splashed into the wide channel that Porkchop had carved in the stone. Running in rivulets, it trickled into the waiting trough.

“Leave them to it, and help me with this!” Julian grunted, lugging at a large stone. “We can use some of the bigger ones to level off the tubs.

Kaius rushed to assist. Working as a group, they made a rough platform just below the trench Porkchop had carved into the stone. As they worked, the tubs filled one by one, until finally the blood was left to run free — a steady stream pooling in the deep trench. Soon enough, that too was full, and the flow continued unabated.

Julian stared at the running blood with a tight frown. Kaius understood his frustration, dragon blood was liquid gold — letting it paint the tunnel floor would be a tragic waste.

“I’d hoped to avoid this,” the noble muttered.

Moments later, a large oak barrel snapped into existence. Kaius had seen thousands like it stacked in the various inns he had frequented. He stared in disbelief as the noble cracked open its top with a few sharp whacks of his belt knife, and upended the entire thing. Maroon gushed free, the soft notes of a rich red mingling with the iron of dragon blood. Julian had a bloody barrel of wine in his storage ring. What else was in there? A kitchen, complete with a personal chef?

“A shame,” Kel grunted. “Seventeen-oh-five was such a good vintage.”

“We make the sacrifices we have to,” Julian grunted as he shoved aside the flap of tail with his shoulder and dropped the barrel into place. “Let us hope I will not have to sacrifice more.”

Kaius glanced to his left, sharing a long look with Porkchop. He had more than one?

The gods seemed to smile down on Julian, for the flow of blood slowed by the time the barrel was a quarter full, and stopped entirely by the time it was half. The lord nodded, vanishing the precious fluid into his storage ring. He and Kel moved quickly, summoning the tubs into position, each steaming and full.

“Right, how are we doing this?” Kaius asked, eying the tubs.

Kenva had already agreed to share with Porkchop, but the rest of them would have to pair up for the four tubs. It was a given that Ianmus would likely share with Kanmost — that left him with one of the nobles. At least they were large — more than enough room for him to sit cross legged and sink up to his chest.

Julian flashed him a smile, slapping the side of his lion-footed monstrosity. “You’re with me.”

A good an option as any, Kaius supposed. There was an awkward moment of silence, before shattered armour and blood-soaked underclothes started vanishing into their artefacts. Kaius barely paid any attention to the nakedness — the battlefield paid little attention to petty luxuries of modesty, and it was far more confronting to see someone's insides torn open than a little bare skin.

Porkchop waded into his trough of blood first, taking care not to spill a drop with his bulk. He grunted as he sunk in.

“Hot. Be ready for it.”

Kaius just grunted, stepping to his own tub. Ianmus was on his left, lowering the legless Kanmost into the tub, while Kel and Adrain were on his right, the retainers beyond them. Taking a single moment to stare at the rippling soup of magical power, Kaius stepped in. He barely noticed as Julian slid in across from him.

Scalding heat swallowed him whole, stinging his skin. Gods, if he’d still been unclassed, it would have been enough to burn him. Within those boiling depths, energy needled his skin. It was an ocean of waiting power, forcing its way in with primaeval dominance. His soul welcomed the influx heartily, drinking as deep as it was able. Eager or not, the process was slow. Kaius could see why it was a baptism, when most other Natural Treasures were just consumed. If he’d imbibed the fluid, it would have burned through his channels like wildfire, so desperate was its clawing grasp. This way it sank in slowly.

But by the gods did it feel like white-hot nails fresh from the forge were being driven into his flesh.

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“Does anyone actually know what this is supposed to do?” Adrian asked from the next tub over, grimacing as he got used to the sharp discomfort.

“It is something of a rite amongst my people,” Porkchop replied. “Like a Natural Treasure, we should receive five points to each of our Stats for every tier of the dragon. Plus, like with their flesh, we will see an improvement to our baseline capabilities.”

“Truly?” Kel said with surprise, turning to look at Porkchop.

“It’s still slight, but you’d have to eat half of that damn wyrm to achieve something similar. They don’t stack either, it’s the same process, the blood is just more efficient. It’s not repeatable, either. Once per tier of dragon is all you get, though you’ll get the benefits of any tiers you skipped with a more powerful dragon.”

“A shame, that,” Julian sighed, hanging his arms over the edge of the tub as steam wafted over him. “Though, I would have to be truly cursed to find myself facing off against a dragon again, anyway.”

As lapping waves of caustic energy surged into his body, Kaius slowly grew comfortable with the needling heat. It was invigorating in a way, he supposed. With comfort, his mind started to drift to the heart in his ring. He needed to use it, now. What better time would there be, than when he was simply sitting there.

A Father’s Gift snapped into his hand, summoned from his storage ring. Kaius lay it flat across the rim of the tub in front of him, its scabbard lying in parallel. Every pair of eyes focused on its shining edge. He would have preferred less of an audience, but such was the way of things.

Besides, the sword was undeniably beautiful. A frozen nebula, tiny motes of light pulsed softly within the smokey depths of its crystal, only a thin band of metal visible between edge and fulled.

“You said it was your inheritance?” Julias said, blood sloshing up Kaius’s chest in a wave as the man straightened.

“It is.”

“That’s enough to make a man jealous. Such a prize only makes me more curious about who you are.”

Kaius smiled sadly, tracing the burning runes along his blade’s fuller.

“Better my father still lived than a blade to remember him by,” he whispered.

Julian had no answer to that, and a heavy silence loomed over their group.

Kaius ignored it, and summoned the wyrm’s heart. It was heavy, a glossy muscle larger than his head. The second he had it in his grips, A Father’s Gift screamed to him, waves of longing and need washing through his link to the weapon. It hungered, deeply and truly.

There was no reason to deny it. He spared only the time to analyse the reagent before he shoved it towards his blade.

Heart of Katarex, Deep Wyrm:

Epic - Tier II

Affinity: Draconic

The great Katarex; Deep Wyrm of the Forgotten Ocean; Bane of the Thousand Year Leviathan; Scourge of the Crevasse Settlements; Grandmaster of all Magics Most Resplendent; Hunter-Prime of the Darkness Beneath, and Lord of the Wellspring, brought low by simple guile.

The heart of a young deep wyrm, rich in draconic power.

Reagent, Natural Treasure

…

**Ding! Material appropriate for A Father’s Gift detected! Facilitate absorption?**

Kaius accepted. Thirsting magic erupted from his blade. The heart liquified, melting into a slurry of gore that flowed to cover his weapon utterly. He could feel the roiling power of mutation spreading its tendrils into the blade, changing it at its very core. As soon as it had soaked in its fill of the material's energy, it would advance.

There was a soft gasp from the nobles as he confirmed in truth what he had hinted at before. It brought a glimmer of pride to his chest. Long had he wanted for the day where he could bear A Father’s Gift with pride, without fear. It was his most prized possession. Today was not that day, but it was a small step.

“I never really thought I'd see one in the flesh,” Kanmost mused, staring at the pulsing weapon. “Between that, this blood, and the Wellspring, it’s almost worth getting my legs hacked off.”

Ianmus frowned deeply, still pained at the wound his old teacher had taken under their protection. “We’ll get them fixed.”

Julian sighed, though he didn’t look away from the swirling length of flesh laying across the tub.

“I’ll do it. I’m not so callous as to ignore something like this — not to mention how bad it would look. It’ll take some time, but I can put your treatment on the House physician’s schedule.”

Within Kaius’s blade, change continued unabated. It supped deep on the meal it had been gifted, until finally, it had eaten its fill. The slow pulse and shift of red slurry came to a halt, and twin chimes sounded in his mind.

**Ding! Growth Weapon - A Father’s Gift has absorbed Heart of Katarex, Deep Wyrm! All materials acquired, advancement will commence shortly!**

**Ding! Growth Weapon - A Father’s Gift is ready to advance! Proceed?**

The shift was rapid as he accepted. His sword soaked in the remnant mass of the heart, drawing the material into its deepest core. As it was swallowed, his reborn blade was revealed.

The pommel came first. Once relatively simple, the large encased gem had been replaced with the snarling head of Katarex, a torrent of water building in the wyrm’s maw.

Red gems sat in the wyrm’s sockets, soaking in the soft light of the tunnel and reflecting it as a fierce gleam. The hand wrapping came next, a shining blue hide of small dragon scales. From handling Katarex’s carcass, he knew it would be rough, sticking to his grip like glue.

The slurry of flesh retreated further, freeing a crossguard of the same bright argent of the pommel. Tiny, serpentine wyrms had been woven into a tight coil, like a braided wire, each engraved with fine scales that shimmered in the light.

His scabbard was next, revealed whole cloth. While it had the same shape as before, the simple leather cover had been replaced by yet more fine blue scale. Silver metal panels reinforced the flat of his scabbard, engraved with a writhing wyrm.

The blade itself came last. Like the scabbard, its profile was unchanged — a longsword that was both wider and longer than was normal for such a weapon. It was still a rebirth. Gone was the thin band of metal that spread between fuller and edge, leaving only thin smoke frozen in crystal. The winking lights within glowed a soft crimson. As they pulsed, the foglike patterns within the crystal swirled in time with an unseen heart. Creeping veins, once thin and insubstantial, roared with motion, just barely visible in the very marrow of the blade.

**Ding! Growth Weapon - A Father’s Gift has advanced to Epic (Tier II)! Steep your weapon in its purpose to unlock further advancement!**

Kaius sucked in a breath, delight spilling through him. In unison, the pulsing shift of his weapon sped up.

“Magnificent, truly,” Kel murmured, staring at the weapon.

“That it is,” Kaius agreed softly.

“What changed?!” Porkchop asked, blood running in streams from his sodden fur as he shifted to take a closer look.

His brother’s excitement ignited his own. Grinning widely, he pulled up its description.

A Father’s Gift:

Epic - Tier II

Forged in the dying days of Unterstern. Quenched in the fading light of prosperity. The final work of a master, birthright of the last Scion.

Baptised in fire, blood, and water. Born to caring hands stained in passion and conquest. A final testament; an oath of vengeance.

Raised tall by the hungry, a well-loved tool of death and victory. Honed into an icon of desperate momentum; an oath of reaping toil. The final harbinger of an intentioned end.

A two-handed longsword early in its legend. It is a blade of crystallised livingwater and draconic heartblood, threaded with veins of purified luncite. It flows like smoke and strikes like adamant, cleaving through even the stoutest armour, and withstanding even a dragon’s abuse.

At the height of what is possible for the first tier, its enchantments are potent: they allow it to move with spiritual grace, cutting even the intangible, and grant it a fire that will never extinguish. Even fragmented, it will burn anew — brighter and more resilient than before. Quenched in filial blood, only those acknowledged by right may see its true depths.

A paragon of second-tier might, the sword has supped on stolen draconic provenance. Moulded by remnant tyranny and the rising station of its wielder, it transforms Authority into a dread promise.

Initial Material: Meteoric Iron, Orichalchum, Deep Essence, Craexia Shard

Tier I: Spent Forgeheart, Elder Blood, Waters of Zabriel

Tier II: Heart of Katarex - Deep Wyrm

Artisan-wrought Artefact

Growth Item:

Further tempering required to advance!

Bound & Linked

Longsword

Slayer’s Ire II, Ghost of Severance III, Spirit of Forgefire V, Bloodline Veil XVI