Chapter 430: Iridescent Heavenly Spirit Sword!

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Vladimir had already braced himself for the attack when the sword began to disappear. He followed it with his eyes, watching it enter Riven instead of flying toward him. For a moment, he thought Riven had canceled the technique. Then he saw the edge forming around his body and realized the sword hadn’t disappeared at all. It was still there, just no longer separate from him.

And he became a massive sword instead, his aura taking on its sharpness and size!

Riven could feel the change as he moved his arm. The sword moved with him, following every motion instead of waiting for him to direct it. He wouldn’t need to guide it through the air or worry about Vladimir knocking it aside. He only needed to reach him. He lowered himself slightly, pressing his feet against the ground as he prepared to launch forward.

Then he kicked off the ground and faced Vladimir one last time.

One last time was all he needed, really.

Vladimir brought his mechanical arm forward, trying to put it between himself and Riven. He could see him approaching, but his body wasn’t moving fast enough to keep up. He turned his shoulder and tried to get out of the sword’s path, still refusing to believe that Riven could pass through his guard.

SLAAAAASH!

The world seemed to come to a halt, time itself stopping as Vladimir saw the memories of his entire life in a single moment.

He tried to keep his attention on Riven, but the memories kept coming. He was back on the streets, hungry and searching for something to eat, checking behind him whenever he heard someone approaching.

He remembered how quickly a meal could be taken from him, and how little anyone cared when he was hurt. He hadn’t thought about those days during the fight. Now he couldn’t think about anything else.

He saw when he was born, when he was abandoned, when he had to fight for every scrap of food, and when he was bullied relentlessly, sometimes left dying on the streets.

He remembered the orphanage, the rare kindness of some of the nuns, the children, the cult of Fenrir, his comrades, and his many crimes.

Some faces were harder to remember than others, but he recognized the nuns who had treated him kindly. He hadn’t forgotten them, even after everything that followed.

For a moment, he wanted to stay with those memories instead of seeing what came next. He already knew what he would find. There were things he had done that he couldn’t blame on anyone else.

Those he’d slaughtered brutally, those he’d sacrificed to Fenrir.

He had found comrades in the cult, people he could fight beside and a reason to keep going. That hadn’t made his crimes any less his own.

Now the people he had killed were there among the memories, just as clear as the people he had cared about. He couldn’t choose which ones to see, and he couldn’t make them disappear.

And then his death... and rebirth.

And since his rebirth, it had been one battle after another, with Riven working him like a damn slave.

And yet, he had also experienced more kindness, warmth, and generosity in these last few weeks than he’d ever experienced in his entire life.

That annoyed him almost as much as losing. He wanted to think only about the battles, the demands, and how often Riven had pushed him into another fight.

But he remembered the kindness too, and it made it harder to keep blaming him for everything. He could complain all he wanted. It wouldn’t change what these last few weeks had given him.

Riven’s attack could have completely destroyed him in that moment, but it had the unique ability to spare him if Riven wished.

But the pain, damage, and immense humiliation Vladimir had to endure... felt like dying all over again.

Knowing that he might survive didn’t help when the attack reached him. Vladimir tried to move, to bring his arm up, to do anything other than stand there and take it.

Nothing worked. He had already lost, and he knew it before he could admit it. The memories of his death were still there, making it impossible to tell himself this would be any different.

"G-GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

BOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!

He exploded into rainbow fire, raining down onto the ground. Riven looked down and smiled as the fire slowly coalesced back into Vladimir. He hadn’t actually died, but he had experienced what it felt like.

Vladimir tried to draw a breath as soon as his body formed again. He looked down at himself, checking that he was still there, then pressed a hand against the ground.

"H-Huh? What...?"

He could feel it beneath his fingers. That should have been enough to reassure him, but he still expected something to go wrong. He looked up at Riven, unable to decide whether he was more relieved or furious.

"Maybe if you’d called Ignias, it would’ve been way harder, but you didn’t..." Riven sighed. "I guess you’re too prideful, huh?"

Vladimir wanted to answer, but he couldn’t get the words out yet. Of course Riven had something to say about it. He had just been blown apart, put back together, and reminded that he could have fought differently. He lowered his eyes for a moment, trying to get his breathing under control before Riven could notice how badly the attack had shaken him.

Riven walked toward Vladimir, returning to his human form as Vladimir did the same, and extended his hand to him.

"Tsk..." Vladimir clicked his tongue. "Yeah, I know... but I wanted to see what I could do. Also, why didn’t this arm blow up into pieces?" he asked, ignoring Riven’s outstretched hand.

He lifted the mechanical arm and turned it, checking it from one side to the other. After everything Riven had done to him, he had expected to find at least something broken. He opened his hand, then closed it again. The fingers still moved. That bothered him less than the fact that Riven had apparently expected it to survive all along.

"It was made to be a special relic. It can repair itself by absorbing your own energy," Riven explained. "And it’ll return to you too. Great, right?"

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