Chapter 272 - The Hall of Ten Thousand Weapons ( Part 3 )

Golden eyes narrowed. The word hit the part of her that she had tried to ignore.

She hated Zuko. She despised him for what he had done to Rudy and Lilia. She despised him for the pain that he had caused the world. She despised him. She wanted to kill him.

She could not hide it any longer.

But that was not all, was it?

The shadow raised its hand. "Submit. Become the weapon that you were meant to be."

Jennie stared at the offered hand. She imagined taking it.

No more hesitation. No more doubt. No more nights where she questioned whether she could save the people she had loved.

She could become stronger. She could become ruthless. She could stop feeling anything as long as she had enough strength to defeat Zuko. Then maybe nobody else would need to die.

Jennie tightened her grip on the broken dagger. She thought about Snow’s last words.

Live as Jennie.

She thought about Rudy laughing at her bad choices. She thought about Lilia sitting beside her, trusting her even after finding out the truth about Leonis. She thought about Roxy hugging her, kissing her, and giving her the small violet charm.

These people had never asked her to become a monster. They had never asked her to give them victory for their love.

They had just asked her to live.

Jennie looked at the shadow.

"You are right about one thing."

The shadow smiled.

Jennie raised her chin.

"I am angry."

The smile disappeared.

"I hate you. I want vengeance. I want to kill you. And when I find the chance, I might enjoy watching you suffer."

Jennie’s voice shook slightly, but she did not look away.

"But that does not mean that vengeance is all that is left in me."

Jennie took a step forward.

"I can be angry and still decide how to use that anger."

The shadow’s smile turned to a glare. "You will fail."

"Maybe."

"You will lose again."

"Probably."

"You will witness more deaths."

Jennie’s chest tightened. She thought about Lucas, still protecting Seraiya. She thought about her parents. She thought about Roxy, waiting for someone who might never come.

"Maybe," she repeated.

Then she lifted the broken dagger.

"But I am not allowing you to make my choices for me."

Crimson eyes shone in the darkness. The shadow drew a sword from thin air. It lunged.

Jennie met it.

They clashed in the center of the golden circle. Steel rang as it hit steel. Perfectly anticipating every move, the shadow sent her backwards. She barely managed to block the next blow, the force of which traveled through her left wrist.

The shadow was faster and stronger. It knew every sword technique of Leonis, every move that Jennie remembered, and every instinct that she had inherited.

There was no way to beat the shadow by being a Sword King. Every move had already been anticipated. Every counter was answered. Every opening closed before she could exploit it.

The shadow sent her to her knees.

"Submit," it said.

Jennie looked up. The sword was pointing at her head.

"You cannot beat me. I am everything that you are."

Jennie panted heavily. "No."

She got back to her feet.

"You are everything that I would be if I did not choose."

The shadow attacked again. Jennie stepped into the blade, and it sliced across her shoulder. But she did not stop there. She hit the wrist of the sword’s owner with her broken dagger, moved under his arm, and headbutted him.

The collision made both of them stumble back. The shadow stared at her. Its expression contained surprise.

Jennie touched her head. "Ouch. What an awful idea."

She spat some blood to the floor.

"Definitely not repeating that one."

The shadow screamed and charged. Jennie did not try to fight like a Sword King this time.

She kicked dust in its eyes, stepped on its foot, and hit the knee of the shadow with the heel of her boot. While the shadow stumbled, she hooked the broken tip of her dagger behind its wrist and tugged. The shadow lost its balance.

Jennie rammed her shoulder into its chest, and they fell down.

The shadow slapped her in the face. Jennie’s vision became blurry. She almost fainted but her left hand still held the dagger.

The shadow raised its sword. "You are nothing without your power."

Jennie looked at the blade. Then she looked at her broken right hand.

"Maybe."

But she was still there.

She thrust her shoulder into the body of the shadow. They tumbled to the ground.

The shadow slapped her face once more. She was about to faint, but her left hand still held the broken dagger.

The shadow raised its sword. "You are nothing without the power you have lost."

Jennie looked at it.

She looked at the blade. She looked at her broken hand.

"Maybe."

She shifted her weight.

But she was still here.

She stuck the broken dagger in the shadow’s chest. The blade went right through the body of the creature.

The shadow froze. Cracks appeared in its silver-white hair.

Jennie stared at it. She expected an explosion, a divine revelation, at least a noise effect.

The shadow looked at its chest. Then it looked at Jennie.

"What are you?"

Jennie slowly pulled out the weapon. "Jennie Queens."

The shadow broke apart. Its pieces floated up and disappeared in the ceiling as tiny golden particles.

The golden circle dissipated. Silence filled the hall.

Jennie stood in the middle of the platform, trembling from fatigue. Her shoulder burned, her wrist hurt, and her whole body ached like she had just walked through the battlefield.

She looked at the broken dagger. There was yet another crack in the blade.

"Wonderful," she sheathed it carefully. "At this rate, I will have to start using rocks."

There was a low sound from the stairwell. The guardian had dropped his spear.

For a few moments, he just observed her silently. Then he moved aside.

"You’ve conquered your internal weapon."

Jennie looked at the spot where her shadow had been standing.

"No. I think I’ve just reminded myself that I am in control."

The helmet of the guardian nodded slightly. "A valid clarification."

Jennie raised an eyebrow. "Is that some sort of a joke?"

"No."

"It’s such a shame, really. It was a good one."

She walked towards the stairwell.

The guardian spoke again. "Jennie Queens."

She stopped. For the first time, he called her by her name.

"All your past will pursue you in each battle. Your rage won’t change. Neither will your sorrow, although you’ve managed to accept it."

Jennie turned around. "So, why have you put me through all this?"

"To check if you’ll confuse your rage and sorrow with your master."

The guardian lifted his spear and touched its point to the ground.

Clang.

The doors at the top of the stairwell started to open and let golden light flood the chamber.

Beyond them, Jennie sensed something incredible – a presence that wasn’t just powerful but ancient and vast, like the presence of someone who’d seen many wars, long before people started to write their history.

Susan. The God of War.

The guardian moved aside.

"You may proceed."

Jennie looked up at the stairs. She was exhausted. Her body was wounded. Her right hand was still broken forever. She didn’t have any Divine Swords, magic, and no guarantee that Susan would give her what she wanted.

But she had come this far.

She adjusted the charm on her wrist and climbed.

Halfway up, she stopped. "One more question."

The guardian looked at her.

"Do all people, who visit you, have to deal with an evil copy of themselves?"

"Yes."

Jennie sighed. "What an awful place. Absolutely awful."

She kept moving upwards.

Behind her, the weapons began to sing. Not to Leonis KingHeart anymore.

To a new name.

"JENNIE QUEENS."

The singing followed her to the open door and somewhere beyond them a voice resounded – deep, commanding, like the voice of a warrior, who’d fought so many battles that nobody remembered his name.

"Come forward, girl."

Jennie reached the final step.

A vast chamber opened before her with walls covered in weapons, which seemed to be made of star bits. Glowing blades stood next to axes dripping with shadows. Spears were crackling with lightning while shields were reflecting worlds, which ceased to exist.

At the end of the room, there was a figure sitting on the throne of black iron.

She had no crown. No armor. No visible weapon. But the air around her seemed to tremble from the power of her presence – the presence, which made the golden guardian look like a candle in front of a sun.

She looked at Jennie.

"So," she said. "This is the person who wishes to borrow my weapon."

Jennie looked back. Her voice was confident.

"I didn’t come here to borrow anything."

For the first time, the God of War smiled.

"Then tell me, Jennie Queens."

Her voice echoed in the chamber, touching every wall and every weapon and every star.

"What are you ready to sacrifice to kill a god?"