Blade Geyser

“I’d been hoping,” he grumbled to Ruin, “to hold this in reserve for later, but …”

Carefully, he laid the cannon on the floor and drew his sword. He inhaled deeply, once, twice; his skin began to tingle and burn with power.

It was appropriately named, was Chaoseater. The havoc and carnage of battle fed the weapon, and what strength it gained, it passed to its wielder. War allowed that strength to settle in him, suffuse him—and then he called upon the magics that were his by right, as Nephilim and as a Rider of the Apocalypse.

Crouched low, War bolted into the hall. He moved fast, incredibly so, his hair and cloak streaming out behind him, twin banners of war. Again the enemy opened fire, but for a few precious seconds the Horseman was swift enough to weave through the fusillade.

He dived forward into a roll, coming up in a crouch directly between the four occupied doorways. The angels within hesitated, holding their fire lest they overshoot their target and wind up striking one of their fellows instead. And that moment of hesitation was all War required.

With a fearsome cry, he drove Chaoseater point-first into the floor, channeling a surge of magics through the blade. The hallway rippled for an instant, and then a forest of blades—each similar to Chaoseater itself—burst from the floor in all directions. The steel thicket occupied several paces around the Horseman, more than enough to catch the angels gathered in the nearby doorways.

Only one died instantly, but the others suffered wounds grievous enough that they could do nothing but cry out as War approached. They did not suffer long.

***

The Abomination Vault, Chapter 9