He realized in that moment that he hadn't been gravitating toward the sword because it was the weapon for him. Rather, that was only his inner self subconsciously telling him that dividing his weapon prowess over so many disciplines was foolish.
The sword was only a gateway… A gateway that opened his heart to the idea of using just a single weapon… A gateway that led to the scythe!
"How good of you, Death… Bringing me exactly what I needed… Come!"
As though provoked, the rattling of shifting bones sounded from beneath Death's helmet. An instant later, a blood curdling scream was projected outward.
Dyon felt as though his brain was being turned to mush. He had heard Jasmine scream before, unleashing her Evil Qi to the utmost… But it paled in comparison to this.
It was as though Death tapped into every tragedy to occur from the dawn of time. All the tears shed for lost parents, children, friends… spouses.
