Dragon's Awakening: The Duke's Son Is Changing The Plot
Chapter 130 - 129 - The Sword’s Power.

Chapter 130: Chapter 129 - The Sword’s Power.

The room was quiet.

Eerily quiet.

Raven stood like a dramatic anime protagonist, the sword raised high, eyes burning with anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Not even a spark.

"..."

Raven coughed into his hand. "Okay... maybe it’s just taking a little longer to charge up. Yeah. That makes sense. Epic swords have dramatic timing. Builds tension. Delivers impact."

Still nothing.

The sword did not hum. It did not glow. It did not scream ancient oaths of war.

It just sat there like a depressed butter knife.

Another thirty seconds passed.

Raven gritted his teeth. "Okay, seriously, what the fu—"

"Yo, what the hell you doin’, dumbass?"

The sword’s voice echoed in his head, sounding personally offended.

Raven blinked. "Huh?"

"Nah, for real—what is this circus act?" The sword snapped. "You said you wanted to test me out, yeah? Then why you just standin’ there like a confused possum? You gotta cut somethin’, genius. That’s kinda my thing."

Raven paused. "...Wait. You mean your power’s already on?"

"Nah, bro, we in demo mode." The sword deadpaned, but then, as it saw Raven tilt his head, it growled. "You serious right now? Yeah, it’s on."

Raven’s eyes widened. "Hold up, for real?!"

He instantly turned toward the open window and slashed with all the flair of a dramatic warlord summoning divine judgment.

SWISH—

...

Nothing.

Not even a breeze.

The curtain didn’t move. The glass didn’t crack. A squirrel sitting on the windowsill stared at him in pure disappointment before shaking its head and leaving.

There was silence.

Then—

"I swear on every damn forge ever lit... I shoulda just stayed rusted in that void."

"I—What!?" Raven stammered. "I slashed! I did the anime thing! You saw it!"

"Yeah, I saw you swat air like a broke ballerina. I said touch somethin’. What you think I am, some kind of sparkly wind wand?"

Mouth twitching, Raven lowered the blade and hesitantly reached out to the nearby wall.

The moment the edge made contact—

SSSSHHHKKK!

It slid through.

Not cracked. Not dented.

The wall parted—clean, smooth, and so precise it made every swordmaster in the world weep somewhere in their sleep.

Raven blinked at the gaping, perfectly sliced chunk of the mansion wall. "...Whoa."

"Now that’s more like it." The sword chuckled. "Told ya. You could slap the best mortal shield in the world in front of me, and I’d still go through it like hot butter through a weak man’s dream."

Raven let out a long whistle. "Okay... that was sick. What else can you do?"

There was a long pause.

"...What you mean, ’what else’? You tryna treat me like a vending machine or what?"

Raven shrugged. "You know. Cool side effects? Explosions? Purple lightning? Maybe a slow-motion sparkle moment?"

Another pause. This one radiated judgment.

"I cut things."

Raven frowned. "Just cut?"

"Yeah. I cut things real good. Ain’t that enough? Everybody needs damn fireworks with their killin’ tools now?"

Before Raven could argue—

DING!

A blaring notification smacked across his vision like divine karma.

[WARNING: Plot Points diminishing rapidly. Current loss rate: 1,000 per second.]

Raven froze. "...What?"

Another flash.

[The host has been warned.]

Raven quickly opened his system menu—and promptly screamed.

"FIFTY THOUSAND!?" Raven began pacing like a chicken on fire. "Fifty thousand down the drain!? WHAT IS HAPPENING?! THOSE WERE MY SAVINGS!"

"Yo, chill the hell out," the sword’s voice cut in. "Stop flexin’ my power and the drain stops. Easy fix, panic boy."

Raven snapped around. "Wait—you?! This is YOU?! You’re eating my plot points!?"

"No shit, Sherlock. I told you I don’t run on dreams and fairy farts. You got divinity in your bones, and that’s what fuels me."

"Then why didn’t you SAY it needed divinity!?"

"I was gonna, but you kept yappin’ about bein’ OP and doin’ anime slashes. So now we here. Whose fault is it really?"

Raven’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

"...Shut up," he muttered.

"Gladly."

Raven groaned and quickly deactivated the power, cutting off the mana stream—and with it, the hemorrhaging plot points.

The draining stopped.

The room calmed.

The squirrel from the window cautiously peeked in, saw the hole in the wall, and dipped.

Raven, however, wasn’t calm. He couldn’t believe what went down.

"Man, why do you need divinity to cut down mortals?!" He exclaimed, but the sword wasn’t one to take things lying down.

"Yo, were you even listenin’ when they dropped the activation terms back in the damn void? First condition—wield divinity without bein’ a god. Straight-up impossible, yeah, and it was meant to be that way. I wasn’t ever supposed to get picked up, fam. I was forged to be untouchable."

"Shit!"

All Raven could do was curse.

’How is this OP?! I can’t even use it now. If it eats away this much divinity, then it’s pretty much useless to me!’

Raven bit his nails as he thought that, but just then.

"The fuck you mean ’useless’? I’m more useful than your weakass self ever gonna be."

The sword, as if reading his mind, would reply, making Raven stare at it, his eyes wide.

"Did you just...?"

"Yeah, I read your damn mind. That’s kinda my gig, genius. I can snoop around up there ’cause you’re my contractor—and that means you get to boss me around. Lucky you."

"Whatever," Raven sighed, closing his eyes, but the sword, as if confused, asked.

"Man, why you whining like a punk over some damn divinity? That stuff grows back. Chill the hell out."

Raven grabbed his head. "That’s the problem. My divinity doesn’t recover on its own."

"...say what?"

"My divinity doesn’t recover."

"Man, the hell you mean? That ain’t possible. Divinity’s supposed to bounce back like mana—every scrub knows that! You seriously out here sayin’ yours just... don’t?!"

There was a pause before Raven shook his head.

"Did you forget what you said a second ago?" Raven groaned, slumping to the ground. "You can’t not be a god and have divinity, yet I have, don’t I? So, this is like my special condition. My divinity doesn’t regenerate; I gotta earn it."

Another pause.

Then the sword muttered, "...Damn. You down bad."

"Thanks for the support," Raven muttered.

The sword didn’t even pretend to feel bad. "Look, man. It is your fault that you lost your divinity. What’d you think I needed to actually do the heavy liftin’? I’m the Godslayer, not the Paper-cutter. I eat divinity, man. That’s my protein."

Raven stared blankly at the ceiling. "So... without divinity, you are pretty much useless?"

"Pretty much."

"...You’re just a normal sword?"

"Nah, I’m a legendary, ultra-high-tier, cosmically-forged, ranked above divine grade, useless sword—if that helps."

Raven groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I just bonded myself to a sarcastic, mana-draining, ego-shredding, gangster sword that literally can’t work without the one resource I don’t regenerate."

"Hey, don’t be cryin’. I ain’t completely useless."

Raven paused, perking up a little. "...Really?"

"Yeah," it said, pride returning. "I’m indestructible."

A beat later.

"...That’s it?"

"That’s it."

"So, if I’m getting my ass kicked and I fall on you, I can die with style."

"Exactly. Legendary exit."

Raven slumped on the floor, face buried in his hands.

The sword hummed thoughtfully. "Could be worse. You coulda picked up that flaming blade that only works when you sing opera."

"..."

"Hey."

"...What?"

"You got snacks?"

Raven let out a long, exhausted sigh. "What do you eat for snacks? You’re a sword."

"I eat other weapons."

Raven sighed again. Great, another expenditure on a useless sword.’

But then—

Ding!

[You have entirely changed the plot by adding a variable in the plot that was never supposed to be there.]

[You have improved the plot to a major degree.]

[50,000 plot points have been added.]

[Total Plot points: 125,908.]

Before Raven could react to those notifications—

"Yo! The hell you just pull, huh?! I’m feelin’ a spike in your damn divinity! Don’t play dumb—whatever you lost, you just got it back! And that ain’t supposed to happen unless you’re a damn god or some divine cheat code!"

Raven shrugged. "I told you, didn’t I? I’m a special case. I need to earn divinity, and because I bonded with you, I changed my fate, earning myself all that divinity."

"Huh. I see," the sword muttered, then added with a hum, "But damn, you’re takin’ this whole mess real chill. Didn’t expect that. Gotta say... respect. That’s good."

Those words, however, made Raven frown. "What do you mean?"

The sword paused.

But before it could reply, a creak was heard as Crisaius, who had been training Alex, Rufus, and Jake, appeared at the window, halfway into the room.

"Are you alright, brat? I felt something ominous from your room a second ago—" Crisaius suddenly jumped back, his expression filled with shock. "Whoa! What the fuck happened to your hand?!"

"Huh?" Raven frowned, and as soon as he looked at his hand, now charred black with molten lava-like cracks and a violet liquid-like thing flowing underneath, Raven jumped to his feet.

"W-What the fuck?!" He yeeted the sword away. Again.

The sword deadpanned.

"...Why you gotta yeet me across the damn room every time somethin’ twitches? I ain’t your stress ball, fool."

Then it sighed in disappointment. "Tch... And here I was, thinkin’ you were keepin’ it cool. Turns out your dumbass didn’t even know what the hell was goin’ on."

"Keeping my cool? Do you think anyone could keep their cool when their hand seemed to be rotting with something that could be a cosmic poison or something?!" Raven barked back, his eyes wide.

But then—

"Who’re you talking to, brat? Did your mind rot like your hand or what?"

Crisaius’s voice reached his ears as the old man stepped forward, squinting at him.