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Every weapon had its own strengths and weaknesses. That was common sense—something even an untrained fighter would know. A spear’s length and sharpness allowed it to strike from afar, while a hammer’s weight made it deadly even through armor.
At fifty paces, a bow outmatched any sword that could cut through steel, but at thirty centimeters, a dagger easily overpowered a spear. The so-called “King of All Weapons” was nothing more than a myth, because a weapon’s supremacy always depended on circumstance.
There were times when the sword bested the spear, when the spear defeated the bow, and just as often, the reverse was true. Discussing the “strongest weapon” was ultimately meaningless.
And yet, with a deafening crash, the Devourer was hurled backward by a thunderous impact, coughing up black blood.
“How many weapons are you hiding, wretch?!” it shouted.
“Who knows?” Irexana answered coolly.
The war hammer he’d been wielding a moment earlier had already changed into a three-meter spear. It was a well-known combat technique—switching weapons instantly using a subspace bracelet.
Karen used the same method to replace throwing knives or draw weapons barehanded, but Irexana’s mastery was on a different level ent...
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