But his scant imagination could only take him this far. Then he watched helplessly as the person before him caught the blade. Wu seized his sword with his right hand, his pale face wearing a half-smile.
No matter how hard Blade Demon tried, the Executioner's Greatsword—which had long been as much a part of him as his own body—wouldn't budge.
There was no response, no connection at all.
"Hahaha..." Blade Demon laughed awkwardly. "Brother Wu, you're truly skilled. Let's call it here for today. I've got some personal matters to attend to. Another day, I'll come by and share a drink with you."
"Farewell!"
Blade Demon hunched his shoulders, ready to slink away. But when he tugged at the Executioner's Greatsword in his hand, he found it still wouldn't move. Wu raised an eyebrow, his gaze growing more amused.
"Gulp." Blade Demon swallowed. "Since you've taken a liking to my sword, Brother Wu, you can have it. Don't be shy—we're all brothers here. I heard you killed that bastard chief judge. What a cause for celebration!"
"I've got a blood feud with the Night Watch, too. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, so you and I are practically brothers—instant friends! A treasured blade belongs in the hands of a hero. Take it, take it! Don't stand on ceremony!" Blade Demon clasped his fists. "This little Blade is off! Brother Wu, don't see me out. Stay right there—no need to walk me out!"
This time, Wu didn't stop him, so Blade Demon turned and left. Once he rounded the corner, he broke into a run, cursing inwardly as he went. *That bastard Songster—he's all talk! He got me to lose my treasured sword. Damn it, if those guys, the Magician and Puppeteer, find out, they'll never let me live