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!" he 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.
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