Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 15]

Following through, the blade came up and down, down onto her collarbone. Cinder screamed in pain and staggered back, blood pouring from the wound.

"How?" she gasped. "My cloth is the finest in Mistral. It should have blocked that!"

Hm. I thought I'd felt some resistance. It went to show how powerful she was, not just because of her Skills and Class, but her station. As a Prestige Class, Mistral had bent over backwards to provide her every advantage she might need. A stark contrast to myself.

It might have worked, too, but for my new Passive.

Blade Bond: Damage increases in line with length of time the same sword has been wielded.

[...]

Now, as a Swordmaster, I'd been granted a Passive that I doubted anyone could make use of as well as I.

Enough to let me tear through whatever protections Cinder had.

[...]

With a heavy sigh, Cinder leapt forward, engaging me once more. I blocked and parried, drawing her back.

[...]

We traded blows at a furious pace. Cinder's blades rarely broke past my defence, but when they did I tanked them without concern, making her pay for each with another wound that bit deeper and deeper each time.

[...]

He saw my intent a moment before I struck. His eyes widened, and his lips quivered. A scream escaped him at the last second.

And then my vision was filled with red and black.

Crocea Mors was merciless. Powered by my new Passive, she tore through flesh and bone with ease, travelling through the body and erupting out of the back, covered in gore. My hands were warm. Overly warm and slick with blood. A face was pressed close to mine, chin on my shoulder, leaning there for support. Black hair tickled my nose.

[...]

Cinder's body had gone slack against mine, leaning on me for support. I lowered her gently, hesitating to draw Crocea Mors from her lest it do more damage. Not that it could, I realised. There… There would be no surviving this.

—Forged Destiny [Book 6: Ch. 15]