The power of the Ghost Rider was already within me, and I already had the power to call upon it when in a vehicle. If ever there was a time to use his power for my own, it would be now. Warmth spread through my fingers and into the Asauchi. Like a heart, it beat back gently in response before the sword began to glow.

It was bright red, heated by the fires of hell. With a swing, that heat wafted off of it in the direction of my slash, distorting the path of incoming arrows and veering them wildly off course. Steaming particles of spiritual power rose from the blade as steam.

When another arrow threatened to kill me, I struck it down. It was hardly deflected, just dispersed from the power of my stroke. And with another swing, I fired a blast of energy right at Uryu. Of course he dodged it, but now I was on the offensive. The Rider’s power had conducted itself along the sword and without even knowing the thing’s name I had a tool with which to strike from a distance.