The shield shattered under the sword, its reinforcing spells explosively releasing their themes with the death of its spirit. Metal ribbons leapt away, dissolving where they touched the corrosive darkness of my own protective firewall, studding the ground like silver-bright stalks of grass.

The air around it spasmed and stiffened, the earth beneath my feet clenched into rigidity and snapped as the free magic faded. As if from a great distance, I heard the spirit scream - but it wasn’t really alive enough to comprehend its destruction. The code didn’t lie.

The iron golem that had held the shield fared no better. Kamidachi’s magically expressed force of personality, rendered the form and motion of her white-steel blade utterly inviolate to anything that opposed it. Mancer felt no shock, no resistance. It was as effortless a blow as the single practice swing that Kamidachi had allowed, before demanding he demonstrate her power.

His strike bisected the iron golem, from shoulder to hip, along with both forearms. Its death was not as messy as the shield - a cursory glance at its code showed it to be a deliberate effect - but the leaking magic still made the ground it seeped into briefly wriggle and writhe as though it might try to stand and walk.

And then, the sword froze, instantly stopped at the end of the movement - and his hand felt as though he had slapped a brick wall for all that it budged.

‘You will sheathe me now.’ Kamidachi said, through the silent telepathic channel he had forged with the blade. She came unstuck from the air, and Mancer quickly glanced around at the four other swords that were observing them, lazing in their humanoid forms upon the grass. None of them spoke, though he could sense the constant low-lying irritation they felt for the sword in his hand.

Carefully, he extracted a square of silk, wiped Kamidachi clean and sheathed her. Simply being allowed to draw her had taken a month of careful supplication, and first he had needed to source the creation of a sheath she felt worthy of being graced by her presence - until that point, the blade had hung in the air in the same chamber she had resided for the last thousand years.

White dragon-scale, silver purified under moonlight, enough diamonds to stud a map of the night sky - every single one of the fat gold coins that he had been gifted by the King’s Circle had been spent on satisfying the first of her many demands. Luckily most were about showing proper respect, and she considered the very notion of gifts an insult.

It was a relief to him that her presence next to his mind and upon his hip settled down and went dark - a sign that she would no longer bother with the ‘foolishness of her wielder’ for the rest of the day.

A quiet ripple of humour passed between the other swords at his expression of relief, and Mancer grinned. They had their quirks, but their driving spiritual themes were far more relatable than Kamidachi’s infinite arrogance.

‘Better than last time, oh holy maidens?’ He asked, carefully keeping his voice light and free of sarcasm.

Lotus nodded firmly. ‘Just the one golem ruined, a profound improvement. Perhaps our dear sister is growing bored, and will finally allow you to practice actual swordplay instead of swinging her around like an animal.’ She made a show of inspecting a metal sliver from the exploding shield, and flicked it away with pursed lips.