theonionjunktion

Every day for six years straight, from the time he was twelve, Darius Omen hit an anvil with a hammer ten thousand times a day without stopping. He did not know the reason why he needed to, all he knew was that he had to. Little did he know that hit by hit, strike by strike, his originally meek body was being refined into something that had never been seen before in the history of mankind.

In the war against spirits, mankind had little to be proud of. Yet one day a young man entered the battlefield. He dazzled millions and killed even more, all with merely a rusty old hammer than no one could hold or fathom.

Infallible Oathbreaker

Lightning at 30%, thunder 20, nature 15%, metal 10%, space 10%, strength 5%. Darius had six attributes so he was worried about what to do but his Master had told him not to worry.

First of course was lightning then the other elements in that order. The old man's physical guidance and practising on his own was helping him understand the basics of it. It was like learning a craft from scratch.

After strength was filled Darius wasn't sure what to put. The seventh ball was greedy, its AI crying and begging Darius for more spiritual essence. The pull became so strong that it started sucking power out of one's body.

"Oh no! He doesn't have a seventh attribute over 5%! He will die-"

The old man was running away until a wave of energy arose from Darius. Blood, death, intensity. The old man turned around and saw a blood-red mist being absorbed by the star.

Blood Red