Deep inside him, spiritual energy boiled like water at a rolling boil. The Dragonslayer Sword in his grip answered with a hungry thrumming, eager for ruin.
“Come on now!” shouted, each syllable tearing clean through the roar of rushing power. He abandoned his defensive stance and gathered all of his sword intent, pouring it into the waiting edge of Dragonslayer Sword.
A radiant burst of gold blazed along the blade, as though a newborn sun had chosen that steel as its cradle.
“Dragonslayer!” cried, the word ringing like a verdict. A simple roar, yet it carried a majesty that looked ready to humble mountains.
From the sword’s tip, a narrow beam of golden light shot forth. It was not broad, yet within it lay an absolute, cleaving might, an edge forged for the dawn of worlds. It arrowed straight for the towering blue sword shadow.
Boom!
The collision rattled every rib and stone.
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