My Soul card is a Reaper

In no time, the middle-aged fellow entered the training grounds to find Azzy in his mask, meditating on the ground; the concentrated beam of soul energy finally disappeared, and Azzy opened his eyes on his arrival, taking the initiative to speak, "Don’t bother to issue quests for fun, mister. Not everyone would like it." Azzy’s facial expression was quite serious.

The client was taken aback, "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Why do you need a sparring partner with a greater soul realm than Tier-70 when you are only at Tier-56?" Azzy questioned him, standing up on his feet and staring directly into his eyes with a not-so-friendly gaze. "And do you think of us, who crossed Tier-70, as some mere employees who would accept disrespect for the sake of money? I have been here for half an hour." He added.

Azzy didn’t mean any of it, the last part of the sentence was his actual point. He was the head of the prominent Death Clan and one of the strongest individuals on his planet or, maybe, the strongest under demigod.

It is one thing people look down on him if he is trying to stay low, but it is entirely another thing if he didn’t hide his soul realm at all, and still, this client let him wait on purpose when he didn’t even seem like he was in a meeting. Using his Aura Sensing, Azzy could atleast see that this one-armed man was doing meditation.

He had his pride to keep.

Upon hearing those words from Azzy, Alaric Steelclash observed him for a couple of seconds; taking a deep breath, he gave a gentleman bow, "I apologize. I was in the middle of fighting an imaginary opponent in my head, using my sword dance. I wasn’t aware of your presence until you made it known."

The sincerity in his words cooled down Azzy a bit, and he went on unfurling the scroll that had quest details, maintaining a calm demeanor, "Fine. Let’s just get into the matter. I won’t question your motives or whatever. In this scroll, it is mentioned that I would be tested before taking up the job. Will you test me or do you have anyone else? And what are the rules I should follow during this assessment?"

Alaric answered directly, "As you can see, I need a partner to complete my sword technique. I need someone extremely proficient in swords. We don’t use our energy. It will be nothing but a pure swordfight. Based on what I could feel, you have a higher physique than me. Naturally, you have a higher probability of winning. But, the win isn’t important in the assessment. Skills are more important. If I’m satisfied with your sword skills, you are hired."

Azzy went silent and pondered on the subject. He then asked, "Does it have to be sword skills or any type of blade is okay?"

Alaric replied without any hesitation, "I would prefer a swordsman, but I think I’m fairly good enough to see through one’s skills even if it is another blademaster. So, yeah, you can use any blade for the assessment."

"That’s good." Azzy nodded and opened the zip of the backpack that he put aside, taking out what looked like a black steel rod.

"Uhh… I think I mentioned a blade," said Alaric.

Azzy poured a bit of soul energy into it, and the so-called black steel rod suddenly expanded into a scythe of his height with an extremely sharp blade. "It’s my Plasma scythe."

"Huh, that’s an oddly shaped weapon. Never witnessed such a curved blade with such a long handle," commented Alaric, shrugging off his shoulders and adding, "Well, I’m looking forward to it."

As the steward stood a bit far away, Azzy and Alaric stood about twenty meters away from each other with their weapons out. The swordmaster goes on to speak, "You may attack as you wish."

To which, Azzy subtly shook his head, "No, if I do that, the battle will be over in a second. I think you should attack me and I play defensive. After all, you are the one who is in need of completing your sword technique."

A deep frown appeared on Alaric’s face, feeling ridiculed by this mysterious masked guy. He tightly held the sword handle and charged forward.

Covering ten meters in an instant, Alaric then moved in zig zag, appearing a couple of meters away on the right and then suddenly a few meters away on the left in an instant. He reached Azzy and swung the sword at his waist.

Azzy moved at greater speeds, holding the scythe invertedly as he blocked the sword.

However, at the clash of the sword and the scythe’s blade, the upper half of the sword itself cut off and fell to the side. A decent amount of vibration pushed away the swordmaster. As a result, with a broken sword in his hand, Alaric slid away to the back for a while and stopped; his eyes widened, taking a look at Azzy and then at his sword.

"Uhh…" Azzy felt embarrassed all of a sudden. He changed the scythe back into its basic form once again and said, "I think it is better if I don’t use it. Your sword seems to be made of inferior materials. So, how about this? Do you have a pair of wooden swords?"

Alaric got out of the shock, with his hand trembling due to the earlier vibration and, of course, the shock he just experienced, "Yes, it is better that way."

After a while, Azzy was holding a wooden sword this time and Alaric charged at him once again, using the same technique. This time, the wooden sword didn’t break but was blocked for a moment.

Alaric disappeared and appeared to the right, slashing at his shoulder, but Azzy’s hands moved faster and parried that attack too.

For the next couple of minutes or so, Alaric was attacking him from left and right; his attacks were getting faster and faster but none reached Azzy’s body as they were all blocked by Azzy’s parry. Alaric even forgot that he was sparring. He was totally going for the kill instead, engrossed in the battle.

"Araaaa"

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Alaric was at the peak of his speed and he tried to give a final attack, using all of his strength into it, stabbing Azzy’s occiput, the absolute spot for a person. Considering Azzy was standing still, it became easier for him to attack it.

Just as the wooden sword’s tip was about to touch Azzy’s occiput, the latter changed his grip and his hand moved to the back. The wooden sword struck Alaric’s right arm, pushing it away. The wooden sword in his hand flew away and fell far away from them.

"Sss…"

Alaric hissed in pain as he staggered back a few steps. His prosthetic free hand was applying pressure onto its bruised hand to lessen the pain. Azzy turned around to face his opponent and said, "To be honest, I’m not trained in swordplay, Mister Steelclash. So, I’m not sure whether I’m acceptable to your requirements for a sparring partner. But I have reflexes enough to…"

"You are hired, Mr. Gary," Alaric interrupted him with his answer. "You may start your week from tomorrow. Meanwhile, you are welcome to stay at our mansion as my guest. My Steward will show your room."

As the steward of the estate escorted Azzy to his room, Alaric parted his ways midway and returned to his study room in a hurry, taking out some empty sheets with drawings from the table drawer.

He placed them on the table and started drawing at crazy speeds.

Once his work was done, he took a closer look at each sheet, depicting a man with a sword in different positions, one after another. It was as if Alaric had an eidetic memory.

Looking at all the positions of the sword, Alaric grew the smile of what seemed like a crazy researcher who found a breakthrough in his research, "These sword movements… No doubt about it. It closely resembles the ultimate defensive swordplay, the Phantom Shield. Breaking this shield requires a swordmaster to become one with the sword, the ultimate stage of a swordsman. It’s a waste to use him to develop my sword technique. Plans change… Hahahaha… I struck gold… hahaha, thanks, Oh Lord for putting him in my path."

Meanwhile, on Planet Roca, a world located in the same Empyreon realm;

Under the full moonlight, a twelve-winged Angel was seen carrying a man filled with injuries and cuts all over his body, moving away from a castle located in an endless frozen land.

As he was flying away in the air, the injured man slowly opened his mouth, "I made a great sin, master. I shouldn’t have brought them with me, knowing the risks. Their deaths are on my head. I shouldn’t have invoked the seal you put on me. I should have died with them." He was crying blood, although his voice was quite weak.

The Seraphis replied in his heavy tone, "It’s not your fault, Thalorim. Don’t blame yourself. You wouldn’t have known that he could inflict more damage on pure bloodline Angels. We need Nephilims for this task. This time, I would participate in this battle and lead the team. I can’t return to Silver City without giving justice to your fallen brothers. We have time until the next full moon. You focus on recovering your state of mind during this time."

"Don’t worry about me, Master. I will get stronger. I will kill that fallen at all costs..."

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