Eternal Cultivation Of Alchemy

“You… are dying?” Bladedance asked. “How is that possible? You should live forever.”

“I could, if I were still the corruption from a long time ago,” Godslayer said. “But the lack of corruption is separating my soul and my spirit. I will soon become two, neither strong enough to survive on its own.”

Bladedance stared at Godslayer, sensing him. She could somewhat tell that he was weak—weak to the point that he was leaking aura from within him. The unbreakable crystal orb was no longer.

Bladedance was stunned.

Godslayer truly was dying.

“Your body, it’s… cracked,” she said. “Even if you were to go back to how you were, you are most likely going to die. Maybe not by someone else, but they will be able to weaken you until you’re dead.”

Godslayer snickered. “You think I don’t know that? I am trying my best to live too.”

“But you can’t,” Bladedance said.

“I will,” Godslayer said. “Not me, Godslayer, but a part of me. Not the part that is corruption, but a part that is just the sword spirit. I will survive, one way or another.”

Bladedance didn’t say anything, choosing to let him stay in his fantasy. She took some steps back and looked at him with a wider gaze. Even without any memories, he would be nowhere near as dangerous as he had been in the past.

And with his memories, he would likely be less dangerous. The Artifact God of the past was, after all, a mellow man who worked for the good.

She hadn’t had the opportunity to meet him more than a couple of times, but that had been her impression of him each time she had met him.

“There is a chance I will die,” Godslayer said. “There is a chance that all I know will die with me as well. Now that you are here, there is certain information I need you to deliver for me.”

“Me?” Bladedance asked. “My life right now is linked to his. Why not him?”

“He probably could, but you will be faster. You’ll get an audience with the gods before he does. And this information needs to be out as soon as it can,” Godslayer said.

Bladedance’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this information?” she asked.

“It’s about how I died,” Godslayer said. “It’s about the men that killed me; the ones that called themselves Slayers.”

“Slayers?” Bladedance’s eyes narrowed. She had heard of them before, or at least she thought she had. “There was a man in the past who tried to recruit me, I think. I can’t remember at the moment, but what about them?”

“They are the ones who killed me,” Godslayer said. “I do not know who was in that group, but the Sword God, the Method God, and the Saber God of the past were part of that group. They were the ones responsible for making me make that sword.”

“Huh? You didn’t make that sword yourself?” Bladedance asked. “The information outside was that you created a sword that you could not handle, and it ended up killing you.”

“That’s the worst part. They are technically correct about how I died, which is perhaps why they’ve managed to hide for so long. I made the sword, but the design was not mine. I did not come up with the idea to make it out of Death and Darkness. The corruption was not my purpose.”

“I was made to make it. I do not remember being forced to do it, but certainly persuaded to it with venomously sweet words. False words. They made me think I was making it for one thing, but I was instead making it for something else.”

Bladedance frowned. “You, the Artifact God, did not know what you were making? I find that hard to believe,” she said.

“Do you think I would’ve made what I made had I known how it would end up?” Godslayer asked. “A sword that corrupts its victims. A sword that corrupts its owner. A sword that is itself corruption. Do you think I would’ve made that had I known what I was making?”

Bladedance couldn’t answer.

“I was led on with lies; that’s how the sword came to be,” Godslayer said. “I did not kill myself. I sacrificed myself, attempting to destroy the spirit in the sword with the soul in my body. But of course, even that was corrupted, mutated, forming something new—something far worse.”

Bladedance thought for a moment. It was hard for her to tell if there was truth in this being’s words. “How should I know that you’re telling the truth?” she asked. “How can I know that I am not the one being led with lies from a soul that was corrupted?”

“You do not, for I have no way of proving my own words at this moment,” Godslayer said. “But that should not stop you from heeding my warning. The Slayers—find them, should they still exist, and kill them. If you can’t, banish them from having any influence. They are a group that do not care about others, only themselves. And they will stop at nothing to get what they want.”

Bladedance stood there in the sky for a long moment, trying to think back to the time when she had been recruited. It was back when she was still a mere divinity, perhaps not long after the Artifact God’s death.

And yet, she could not remember that moment well now.

’My memories still haven’t fully returned,’ she thought.

She turned back toward Godslayer and asked, “How should I recognize these Slayers?”

“I do not know,” Godslayer said. “Truth is, I likely killed most of them already in my mindless state. But there should still be a few alive. Purplerain, for one, is a Slayer. He was there back then too, when I was hunted by them. He was a Sword Sage, Reverend to the Sword God at the time.”

Bladedance frowned at the name. “And he became a Reverend to me too,” she said. “Only to stab me in the back and throw me to Hell.”