Chapter 270 - The Hall of Ten Thousand Weapons ( Part 1 )

The gates opened silently.

Jennie thought that there should have been a loud bang or something more dramatic. Maybe even a burst of heavenly light and a voice welcoming her to her new home.

No, just silent doors opening as if it was the beginning of her tomb.

In front of her now lay white stairs leading up to the towers built between floating mountain. Gold clouds danced around them and ancient symbols shone on the railing. Above them soared towers that seemed to reach heaven full of thousands... tens of thousands of weapons.

Jennie stood at the door, staring ahead. Her breath stuck in her throat and for a moment she forgot her pain, coldness in her bones and exhaustion weighing her down.

Swords floated around the towers like stars trapped in an invisible flow. Spears turned around huge pillars, glittering in the ancient light. Silver bows rested next to the axes burning with blue flame. Some of those weapons were so big that it could be confused with the building. They went through clouds, their surface carved with scenes of destruction of the worlds. And some of them were smaller than her thumb, but their aura made the surrounding air tremble.

Every single weapon had an aura. Some of them were warm, like sun rays warming the skin. Others were cold enough to freeze your soul. And there were few of them... just a few that screamed at Jennie to run away and leave here.

Jennie swallowed hard. Her voice sounded through the hall.

"So this is where all the overpowered weapons go after death of their masters."

No answer.

The hall stayed patient and silent, just waiting.

Jennie looked at the silver feather in the pocket of her coat. It hadn’t lost its light during her travel across the ice lake. She brushed it gently – another remembrance of the words of Nharos.

The path ahead is not written. Walk it anyway.

And she stepped forward.

As soon as her foot passed the threshold the whole hall burst with life.

A thousand metallic voices filled the air, their song rising high as if a whole army of the swords, spears and other weapons started to clash.

"LEONIS KINGHEART."

Jennie froze.

The sound came from everywhere – from the walls, ceiling, the floating blades themselves. Her name was being repeated thousand times by thousand voices, each one sounding differently. Some of them sounded with respect. Some others – with hate. Some with sorrow.

"THE SWORD KING RETURNS."

"THE CROWNLESS CONQUEROR."

"THE WARRIOR WHO DEFEATED THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR."

"THE KING WHO FOUGHT AGAINST THE HEAVENS."

Now the weapons turned towards her. Golden sword appeared behind one of the pillars, its blade decorated with ancient runes that glimmered with the amber light. Black spear started to rotate in the air, pointing straight to her heart. Silver bow started vibrating, making low sounds that resonated deep in her bones.

Jennie’s expression turned darker. Her voice became flat.

"Here we go again."

She kept going, and weapons followed her with their attention – a thousand eyes made out of steel and starlight.

"LEONIS."

"LEONIS."

"LEONIS."

Their voices overlapped and formed a chorus, a mantra, a prayer of the dead.

Jennie clenched her left hand. Her voice cut through the noise sharply.

"That was my name in the past. Now, My name is Jennie Queens."

The weapons fell silent.

For one brief moment the hall considered her response. The golden sword stopped moving, its runes faded as if it was thinking. The black spear tilted slightly, as if it was surprised. The vibration of the silver bow stopped.

Then a mocking laugh rolled through the hall.

"A NAME GIVEN BY MORTALS."

A huge sword descended from the ceiling. Its blade was almost as tall as Jennie, and golden surface of it reflected the battlefield that Jennie couldn’t recognize – hundreds of warriors rushing across the steel, their tiny figures struggling endlessly.

The sword stopped right in front of her.

"WE KNOW THE SOUL BEHIND THAT NAME."

Jennie looked at it, not blinking.

"Congratulations. Do you want a medal?"

The runes of the sword flared.

YOU CARRY THE KING’S MEMORIES. HIS SKILLS. HIS SINS. HIS VICTORIES.

YOU WERE BORN FROM HIS DEATH.

Jennie’s expression became serious. The words touched her more than she cared to admit.

So many times in her life, she had tried to detach herself from Leonis. However, every time she was faced with a creature or a weapon that knew the old world, the same thought appeared in her mind.

Am I really Jennie Queens?

Or I’m only Leonis KingHeart that wears different skin?

The sword approached her.

PROVE THAT YOU ARE MORE THAN A SHADOW.

Jennie looked at her right hand. The fingers were slightly bent and were hanging at her side, unable to move like it used to. Under the bandages, the nerves were dead. Fern had told her honestly—no matter how patient she may be or how strong her will, she would never get her hands back.

She had lost her swords. She had lost her companions. She had lost her strength. And now she stood in front of a hall, which remembered someone who was capable of conquering entire army with one sword.

Jennie took a deep breath.

"Listen carefully, I don’t need to prove anything to you."

She stepped aside from the sword.

"I’m here to see Susan."

The golden sword blocked her path.

THE GOD OF WAR DOES NOT ENTERTAIN THE UNWORTHY.

"Tell him I’m not here to entertain him."

Jennie tried to walk by it. The sword attacked her.

She dodged the blow. The golden blade was cutting the air with such power that a wave of pressure struck the pillars behind her and carved the line into the stone. Jennie fell onto the floor on her knee, having difficulty breathing.

"Really?"

The sword turned towards her.

A WARRIOR WHO CANNOT HOLD A WEAPON HAS NO PLACE HERE.

Jennie’s expression became cold. "Who told you that I can’t hold it?"

She grabbed the broken dagger hanging on her hip. The edge was chipped, the tip was bent and the hilt still had too much swing for her comfort. The weapon was ugly—it definitely didn’t look good in this place full of divine craftsmanship.

But it was her weapon.

Jennie drew it with her left hand. The runes of the sword glowed.

YOU DARE CHALLENGE A DIVINE WEAPON WITH THAT SCRAP OF IRON?

Jennie looked at the dagger. Then at the sword.

"Well, you’ve done the first step."

The golden blade attacked.

Jennie didn’t try to resist its power—she knew that it wouldn’t bring any results. She had learned that the hard way in the Celestial Battlefield. In order to fight with creatures that were able to crush mountains, direct confrontation was nothing else than death.

She observed the weapon’s movements instead. The first blow came from above. She sidestepped it. The second blow was sweeping across her waist. She moved backwards, letting the blade pass close enough to tear off the piece of her clothes. The third attack came fast.

Jennie tried to avoid it, but the damage to her body prevented her from moving fast enough. The blade hit her shoulder and knocked her against the pillar. Pain shot through her back. She fell on the floor.

The sword stopped above her.

YOU HAVE THE KING’S KNOWLEDGE, YET YOU FIGHT LIKE A CHILD.

Jennie coughed. "That’s funny. The child almost made you to miss your attacks three times."

The sword quivered. Its next attack was even faster.

Jennie barely managed to roll out of the strike before the blade tore the floor under her. Fragments of stone scattered all over the chamber. She hid behind the pillar. The sword followed her and a golden ray sliced through the stone. Jennie rolled aside when the pillar split in half and fell down.

Clouds of dust appeared in the air. She fell on the floor, landing on her injured shoulder and biting back a cry. Her right hand was useless.

For one terrible moment, she found herself back in the palace. Zuko’s hand was squeezing hers. The bones were breaking in her arm. His laughter echoed in the damaged chamber.

Jennie’s breathing became unstable. The golden sword emerged from the clouds of dust.

YOU WERE ONCE THE GREATEST SWORDSMAN OF YOUR AGE.

Its blade lowered towards her.

NOW YOU CANNOT EVEN DEFEND YOURSELF.

Jennie looked at the weapon. The words were harsh, but there was some truth in them.

She wasn’t able to fight anymore. She couldn’t summon Excalibur, Leviathan, Tempest, Eclipse and Gram. She couldn’t rely on the movements that had once been so perfect and almost invulnerable. She couldn’t even grab the weapon with her right hand.

It was the message that the hall wanted to give her. Maybe the weapons were right. Maybe the person who had entered this place was only a broken shell of Leonis KingHeart.

Jennie lowered her head. Then she remembered Snow. His enormous body on the beach. His voice was getting weaker with each breath.

Live as Jennie.

Not as the Sword King. Not as the world’s weapon. Not as someone who should justify surviving her friends.

Just Jennie.

Jennie closed her eyes. The golden sword was waiting for her.

SURRENDER.

Jennie opened her eyes.

"No."

She pushed herself up. The movement hurt her. Her shoulder protested and her legs were shaking under her weight. But she stood.

"I know what you’re trying to do."

The sword’s runes flashed.

YOU KNOW NOTHING.

"Maybe." Jennie tightened her grip on the broken dagger. "But I know that I won’t die here."

The weapon stopped. Jennie lifted her chin.

"I was once the legendary swordsman."

She looked at the sword.

"Now I’m the greatest swordsman that ever lived."

Her eyes hardened.

She pointed her dagger at the divine sword.

"I am."