Archive of Our Own

One who sowed the seeds of peace reaped the consequence of the War.

One who planted the weed of violence, reaped the benefit of War.

The Blade was always self aware of these principles, for he not only blessed the mortals a beautiful harvest but even more prosperous earnings within the battlefield. 

Most who worship him only see him as one thing, a sword to wield and a sword to use. Not a scythe that the farmers who were mad enough to pray to a Blood God used to cut their tall fields of golden wheat and grass. Not a bag of feed that are fed to the livestock as they maw on the lavish green grass. Nor a good loaf of bread cooked to perfection by a hardworking breadmaker who earns his wheat fair and square. Only a blade used to plunge into the hearts of enemies and slay those who come near with a penchant for bloodlust. 

Twas a little sad mortals only saw half of his divinity for when it was convenient, being weaponized as another sword for a useless arbitrary war. Another troop of Soldiers fallen, a round of innocents dying as their bloodlustful revenge and cries of pain and woe crawl and worms their way into his brain. Like some parasite longing for it’s host, any host. 

Which happened to be his head.

His inner most subconscious. 

They screamed for blood, revenge, any sort of violence against the people who have hurt them and the people who hurt others after them. 

Sure it may make him just a bit too volatile but when has being too dangerous ever stopped him or any one of the gods? Life was far too arrogant to believe The Blade could pass him in power and the gods knew his wrath would bring upon calling on Death for a favor. One which she would easily oblige to, though they all hoped it would one day be against their leading God.  Alas even The Blade did not want to push his luck against Life itself, what would he do once the god was murdered from his marble throne? 

He’d be forced to lead?

Goodness no that’d be horrible, he can barely handle the voices forced to live inside him. He was two things and those two things did not include being a person who can converse with others oh so easily. Or be a god that can lead the pantheon into a golden era. Perhaps if he had deemed necessary he could put in the energy to do so, but he would rather use violence and actions for his words. 

They always meant much more to mortals.

Hell, even more so to gods. Especially ones who refuse to listen to a bard's words of peace, or the treaty of a kingdom with promise of a new era of kindness. The ones who enjoy chaos in any form, uncaring of the mortals who were slaughtered in the aftermath. 

Ah mortality..

He wondered what it would often be like. To be so weak and so small compared to gods who lived up in the hidden Aether above the clouds. Though his thoughts of being a mortal himself did not come until he had realized his dear friend Zephyrus had gone missing. More specifically, when they found out what he’s turned into. The Blade had urged the goddess Death to let him handle the parts of her domain she had let her once loyal crow hold, the poor woman needed time to grieve with her flock, not work herself into a burn out. 

Or worse. 

Dormancy. 

The thought of becoming like the old gods sent shivers down his spine, he had been around long before Life rose to the throne. Whilst he was not around to see the old gods he had seen new gods rise from the ashes. With that he joined their pantheon and became a god to be feared. Though that was neither here nor there was it? 

Wisps of hair, pink as the cherry blossoms that grew in the spring blew in the small breeze. He stared at the edge of a forest into a village so far removed from the ongoing war nearby. He found ignorance to be a blessing, especially since this provided him a place to rest away from the red nectar that spilt from hybrids, humans and monsters alike. He heard a crunch of twigs and leaves, his ears perked as his sword was unsheathed from his side. 

A sword pointed at the face of-

He has no face.

The damn fool was wearing a mask. Of course.

“ Oh come on- You couldn’t have heard me that easily.”

The Blade furrows his brows and lets his sword in hand fall to his side. “Life has deployed you to earth then? Pity, I’d assumed you died because you angered him.” The demi god merely chuckled at his Rival...Well could they truly be considered Rivals? The power balance was tipped in the gods favor, though The Blade must say being a man molded entirely by Life itself gave you more then one perk despite being half god. A godling in other words. “Must you stalk me everytime I venture here to the mortal realm? It’s annoying.” 

“It’s funny though, you know I like playing around with you and the other gods. Plus I have to keep a mortal here in line, Life’s orders.” An eyebrow rose at the mention of a mortal, what have they done to warrent the God of Gods attention? Have they committed a blasphemous crime yet to be proven? 

Ah whatever the affairs of Life were, The Blade did not have to care. He could have dozens of children and not one god would bat an eye. His vessel, made to be his little spy, could murder hundreds even thousands of innocents and Life would dare not lift a pretty little finger. The bias was disgusting, but there was nothing one could do. With a sigh the Blood God had retreated into the forest with the Godling calling out to him. Dream did not need his attention, he had things that needed to be done. 

For a Gods work sadly, is never over.

Sometimes he wondered if mortals ever took breaks, he’s seen them walk around in and out of places where they work. Work work and work, all for currency to be placed in their grubby little hands and be used to feed and house themselves, not even themselves at most times. Tragic how war tore apart a family’s wealth and the people in it. 

Though he’s too desensitized.

Why do most those who govern other people cause such unnecessary war only to cry and pray to him knowing they will be refused? 

Such idiotic creatures.

 If anything he would give his blessings to the side whose in the right, more often than not it’s not the ones who pray to him and bowing at his feet for help. 

He needed a break, it was short and simple. One war, and an era of peace where he can go back to his roots of agriculture and farming. Where people will use his blade not like a sword but a tool for their fields, for children to learn to defend themselves from the mobs that lurk outside their villages. For humans to grow and prosper with foods aplenty and good harvests for years to come. The Blade smiled at the thought, being a God of Blood was tiring, eventually a sword will become dull, the bloodlust will water down and the adrenaline leaves ones system. 

You’re left with nothing.

Nothing but the memories of violence.

Tis the curse of the blood god one could say, however it’s just the curse of spilling blood. He closed his eyes as he rested on the trunk of a simple oak tree. The sun was warm and tickling against his skin like a welcoming embrace from an old friend. The breeze was soft and gently bellowing across the land. 

‘ Perhaps a conference with Life..would not be so bad ’ He thought to himself.

The voices a gentle murmur as they thought over their god’s words. Whilst the man had final say they still could influence him to an extent, mentally and physically. ‘ Conference? With that oaf?’ ‘Are you sure he did sorta kill your best friend’ ‘Last time someone made a deal with Dream XD they ended up becoming a mortal…..’ ‘I think this could be a bad idea.’ It was so odd to hear their gentle coos when they decided to be quenched of blood. But their warnings did not stop him from venturing back to the Aether after a decades worth of not visiting. 

It would not be so bad to become mortal for a time, would it?

No he supposed not.

The pearly white doors of Life’s temple were opened as The Blood God entered. Uncaring whether or not Life was occupied with some celestial duty or that other god who he fancied oh so much. It was gross in his opinion but he kept it to himself. “Life, I come to ask you of something.” 

The God of gods seemingly unoccupied hummed as he gave someone he could almost consider an equal his gaze. “What may that be dear friend?” He was of normal size for once, as he was alone it was more practical to take on a smaller size then the larger form he’s well acquainted with. “If it’s about The Crow-” 

“I wish to become Mortal, even for a while. Make me a newborn to grow back into a man, give me amnesia–though preferably I’d reject that offer. Anything, as a form of retirement.” Life would raise an eyebrow if he could. No wonder he and Zephyrus were such good friends, the two shared the same ideas and qualities while still being inherently unique. It interested him. “Deny my request and I’ll end the war and retire anyways. You have no choice, dear friend. On the condition your Godling does not stalk me of course. Privacy is a must for me.” 

Ah his godling, he loves tormenting the god doesn't he? Quite hilarious to witnesses personally. “No god would want your position Blade, we need balance in this world.” He heard a disrespectful huff escape his nose. How irritated he must feel. Also quite laughable. He hummed and waved the god off. “Very well, you shall become mortal, a hybrid mortal of your patron animal the Pig. You will live in seclusion, your strength and your wit shall stay with you. As a mortal you will be a grown adult and take on a form similar to the one you wear already. Your retirement ends when you become far too weak to lift even the lightest of swords.”

“Its the wild boar you-”

“Do not insult me in my Domain dear Blade, now accept my deal or I will take it all back.” He held out his hand as if it was a simple business deal. As if it was even this simple, godly affairs were quite complicated then this. Usually Life was never this quick to accept a deal or formal request. The Blade looked at his white hand with suspicion, his nose wrinkling in disbelief. “One...two..”

Hand shake.

“A pleasure. Technoblade.”

“Technoblade?”

The god nodded, “You need a name more than just The Blade now” 

Ah, the god ever so unfair to let him say his goodbyes. Perhaps he will tell Death of his departure instead of letting her walk in the aether with a wish to spill blood in her eyes. Technoblade kneeled before the God of Gods letting his soul be ripped gently out of his form. Red with wisps of gold and green encasing it warmly in a loving embrace. 

Red like the blood he spills, the liquid poison kings and nobles feast upon while the poor get poorer. 

Gold like the wheat and shining sun that settles across his worshippers' bountiful fields. 

Green like the meadows and grass cows graze upon as they take their daily fill of food and born new calfs in the springtime. 

Gone like the bellowing winds of freedom and wilderness. Turned over to the creator of all things life, creator of all gods. Red eyes closed to the sight of cold marble quartz floors. Brown eyes opened to blue skies filled with fluffy clouds moving in the direction of the wind. Technoblade sat up noticing he was simply propped against a tree with nothing on his form but a simple netherite axe, and the warm but thin clothing on his back. Life truly believed he could start at rock bottom, why the netherite coated axe wasn't even enchanted. 

He hummed knowingly, it wasn't the first time he had been left with nothing but the clothes on his back the heat of an afternoon sun and something even less then netherite or diamonds. Before he was the blood god he was the god of agriculture and farming. He knew how to sustain himself, possibly even better then most gods ever could.

Humility was a virtue, one he didn't exercise often. But he can admit when he is not an expert at things. That one being building a house, that was often another gods expertise. More specifically a god related to Life, but his name was one he can't truly recall. 

God. 

Did Life take his perfect memory or did he simply not socialize and mingle amongst the other gods? Ah well, that's a worry for another day. Perhaps once he becomes truly senile he shall worry about it. For now perhaps venturing around with a simple axe solely used for peace shall do. Bring justice and feed the voices their thirst for not just blood, but for justice and vengeance. 

Playing on the sidelines for so long was rather boring anyways, not to mention it would be best to make use of his mortal body until he no longer could lift a single weapon. 

If he cannot gift his warriors with hearts of gold the power to plow through a battlefield with such vigor. Then he shall become the warrior, who leads the side he so chooses, to win, to behead the tyrants and lead the citizens to an era of peace and prosperity. So came the legend of The Blood King, the man who drenched the battlefield in the blood of nobles, tyrants and dictators. Whose body is built and molded after the god of Blood, the god of War, and refuses to take a fall and surrender to the opposing side. A man who sings and praises for hope and freedom to the poor civilians, who mingles amongst children and lets them braid his hair and show him stories. Who listens to drunken bards in taverns sing about his conquests and bloodshed, correcting them and giving them applause.

It was exhilarating.

To be a god amongst men, as a god disguised as one of them. Yet the quiet outskirts of the kingdoms and the rural peaceful areas of villages were still much more rewarding than anything else. 

He hummed as he stumbled upon a lonely village, seeing a man with wings on his back make his way towards the local church. His head tilts as brown-red eyes squint at the chromatic black wings..So familiar yet so different. Could it be an old friend or a new hybrid he’s never had the chance to meet yet?

Technoblade followed the man inside and watched him pray to Life, curious. Perhaps it was the crow he was once good friends with. He watches the human crow turn to him with recognition in his eyes. “Ah, are you the local priest sir?” He had not expected him to be rebirth with blonde hair, and blue eyes. Yet it fits him rather well he must admit. Life always had a way of rebirthing or more or less recreating beings to his own liking if he saw fit. Perhaps that was why he bore such a resemblance. “Or an old fool who made a deal with the devil?” 

Zephyrus chuckled and stood. 

Technoblade smiled. “I would never make a deal with Life’s relative Blade, don’t you know?” Ah, no one with a brain would dare make such a deal. The child was a persuasive and yet stubborn devil indeed. But he chuckled and brought the former Crow into a welcoming hug as he reciprocated. It was rare to gain such affection from him after all, he could tell the crow reveled in it. “Good to see you too mate.” 

Techno lowers his eyelids and speaks softly.

“Kristin misses you dearly Zephyrus, perhaps it’s time to come home. Please.”

The man shook his head as the two parted from their friendly embrace. He was saddened by the words that parted from his lips. “Life has control over my very soul, only he can tell me when I can and cannot go. I even have a son whose moved on to better things, who would he have to go home to and sing a bards tale about his ventures?” Techno furrowed his pink brows as his Reddish Brown eyes darkened with anger and disappointment. “Don’t give me that look! I know I am a fool for not realizing how rude Life may be, but I will come home once I win this wadger. I'm sure I’m winning at least..” 

“Death has heard people call for her, she knows you are alive and even sent out her best crows to find you. She is grateful for you bringing her name into such positive lighting Zephyrus..but she wished you come home instead.” As far as he was aware atleast, the crows had kept him updated on her wellbeing. Though he was sure the man was aware of that.

“Just call me Phil..You know it’s my name.”

Pink tinted ears lowered as the mortal god let out a huff in anger. “I must go now, but consider coming home soon. Do not let your death and loss at this ridiculous wadger be why you cant.” Phil nodded his head as he hid his hands in his sleeves. The mortal god’s boots clacked against the church's floor with the creaky wooden door opening. “Twas nice meeting you again….Philza.” 

He could tell the Crow had quite enjoyed his name being spoken for once in their millennia-long relationship even if he had not met his eyes. Call it just a feeling, and the yells of his voices shouting a choir of what they could see, like eyes behind his head. 

Of course once he had entered the forest he felt a presence around him. He hummed and looked up at the trees to spot the mask he had learned to despise over the millennia he had been around. “I suppose Zephyrus is the reason you were deployed carelessly onto the Overworld?” Dream chuckled and hopped from his perch landing infront of the Mortal God.

“Ever the intelligent one Blade, oh wait I apologize. Techno blade.”  Techno glowered at the way he spoke his name with such disrespect. Had he not been a godling to Life itself, and had he been at full use of his powers he would’ve pummeled him. Though that was the voices talking wasn’t it? “Yes, it was in a sense why I was sent here. Though now with you here I have to keep watch on you too, I think you’ve caught onto that though haven’t you Blood god?” 

Dream always thought he was the slick type. Of course against a god intune with war and nature he knew better then to let his guard down and take in his surroundings. The hints of lime green and porcelain contrasting the bleak battlefields in his peripherals never surprised him. Life was a nosey god indeed. 

How annoying .

“Under our contract , you” He points at his chest. “Cannot stalk me, or disturb me, or watch over me in the slightest Godling.” He watched the Dream glower at the finger and then at the Mortal God. “Correct?”

Dream sighed with irritation in his voice. He took that as a victory, small, but a victory nonetheless. “Correct

“I’ll be taking my leave now Godling if you don’t mind.”

“I have a name Blade.”

“One I don’t plan on using.” With a huff, the hybrid left.

Months later, he entered a tournament that ended only with one survivor out of forty contestants. While he knew every single one of them would fall beneath his blood filled axe and stained hands. The crowds left in absolute awe as they saw a hybrid stand tall above the rest, claiming worship to The Blood God. The god who has been absent within the past few decades and yet had blessed a man with such battle prowess it made many concede defeat immediately. Others of course were pridefilled to believe they could even take down the powerhouse he was. 

Yet like always they fall down to their knees like the rest of them do.

“How...How do you do it.” The stranger bloodied and on the dirt floor of the ring asked, his sword had long since been thrown out of his hand as Techno huffed out. He leaned in closer to the fallen soldier, the crowd silent hoping to hear their private conversation. Why if Techno had to compare it to something, it’d be akin to Oden’s last words to Baldir. Although this time Baldir had actually been alive to listen to Oden’s final words.

Though maybe not for long.

“Seek vengeance and bloodlust under my true name The Blade. Then, may your answer be fulfilled.” He watched his eyes widen, it seems he hadn’t been Oden in this story. But rather, Loki instead. It seems he caught on rather quickly, perhaps he shall send Kristin a message, to bring this man new life as a warrior pure of heart. 

Or not.

The squelch of and gurgle of a man’s dying words rang out, the crowd cheered with their sounds drumming and banging in his ears. Yet not even the voices, screams, and hollers of the successful bloodshed could stop the beating of Baldir’s heart now dead from resonating in his head. 

Thud thud. 

Thud thud.

Thud thud.

It brought him to the local Tavern. He held his hand on his forehead and rubbed it gently, he had not asked for a single drop of alcohol gods no. By gods he knew he could handle even the strongest any bar had to offer due to his piglin body, not to mention the fact he was a god . But the taste was abhorring, he never understood why any god would want to take their wine or booze offerings and drink them to their hearts delight. 

Disgusting.

The sounds of stringed music fluttered in his ear as he turned over. Ah it seems they had invited a bard to come on stage, perhaps multiple due to the tournament having gotten quite the reputation due to his infamous appearance. 

They were soothing but picked up pace as the guitarist, well bard , had strummed with gusto as he sang out his lyrics of tales. Though this tale in particular, Techno could recall it being about him.

‘Should your kingdom cry

Should it cry out in tears.’

‘May you bware a man 

with an axe so great.

For he shall come out 

Lifting his axe up high he’ll say’

‘Your savior has come

 I have come forth

Let us gather and take our swords’

‘Soon blood be split on your tyrannical floors, 

Soon your crown befalling your head.’

‘Then comes cries of kings and queens

Crying as they see the blade of 

The warrior who spills blood.’

‘Oh so

Come one come all to see the knight

the knight who be blessed by god

The warrior who fights with might.’

‘The man who raises his axe and says’

‘Your savior has come I have come forth

Let us gather and take our swords’

‘‘Soon blood be split on your tyrannical floors, 

crown befalling your head.’

‘Though woes of the warrior 

who spilt blood

His journey may never end

oh may it never end.

May it never end…

May it never..

end’

It had been a while since he had been blessed with such a song. The bard had given his bow and spotted the warrior and decided it was an invitation to scooch his way on over to a seat beside him. While he did enjoy his song that was by no means a reason to pester him about it, the bard however..Felt familiar in a way he was unable to see. Perhaps his demeanor reminded him of a dear friend of his. “Hearing news of your stay in Hypixel was surely a surprise. Warrior, nearly pissed myself when I realized I could meet you right here in this very tavern.” Now that accent was surely…

He wasn’t expecting it in a place like Hypixel, while rather diverse he knew the Bard had to have traveled a long ways away to be born with such a thick accent. Techno huffed and sipped on the cider he had ordered.

“Mmm, perhaps I should introduce myself to you, Im only a meer bard to you but perhaps you’ve heard the name Wilbur Soot before?” Techno raised an eyebrow at the Bard, he never had time for names let alone remembering any who had worshipped him unless they had been given his blessing. Or names of bards who ran around bothering patrons of a tavern. “Alright alright, that’s just my stage name. My full name’s Wilbur Minecraft, and you dear Warrior?”

Techno slammed his glass onto the table. Had he not controlled his strength he was sure the glass would have and wooden table split. Wilbur had smirked and leaned onto the palm of his hand.

“So you do know Phil! I always wondered where dad found his friends from, how didja know him? How come ya never visited me you bastard! I always thought The Blood God-”

“ Shut up .” He messaged his forehead from the impending headache as the voices became excited of the fact Phil was a father ‘Dadza! Dadza’ ‘Ah the Crow Father, how fitting.’ ‘He does have a son then! I thought he was bluffing…’ ‘Son reveal!’ . Sure the man had mentioned he had a son, but he failed to say he had been mentioned before in passing? Not to mention he knew who he was? Boy was he going to give that damn crow a beating the next time he sees him and his old face again. “Phil, made you . As in, he and another woman-” Wilbur laughed and shook his head.

“Gods above no.” He leaned in close. “I swear he had a thing with Lady Death, Dad would never romantically involve himself with another woman. But that’s between you and me.” Techno only blinked as he tried to think of how else Wilbur came to Phil’s doorstep. 

Was he put in a basket and swam down the river like moses? Simply a lost abandoned child in the woods, like Atalanta or Hercules, taken in by a kind soul?

“Instead he found me one day in the woods, atleast thats how he puts it. Phil never said much else other then he took me in and raised me as his own child, no one in our village knew whose kid I’d be so I guess I just manifested out of thin air!” The bard laughed at his birthstory and a smile stretched across his face. Then a kid, a child ran up to him with his hair a bright blonde and big bright Lapis Lazulis for eyes. “Tommy! I told you to stay with the others!”

This child now dubbed Tommy whined so loudly it might as well overshadow the voices.

Who are still going wild at the thought of Phil having a true decedent.

‘ Aww a Phil Jr!’

‘Wilbur could sing better than Zephyrus Cawed!’

‘I wonder if Wilbur worships Kristin too….’

‘Another patron for the Blood God!’

Quite annoying. “Willll! I didn’t wanna wait, your boyfriend’s drinkin again and he’s teasing me!” Wilbur sputtered and hushed the child. 

“We’ve been over this Tommy he’s not-” With that he watched the Bard disappear to his table with a lone drunkard with horns on his head and another brown haired child sat. 

What an amusing group they were. 

Hopefully he didn’t have to bump into them again. Which of course ended up being a statement that jinxed him as he consistently ran into the brotherly duo, though not the other two companions beside them the other night. Tommy was, apparently, a child who refused to call himself a child of Philzas. Rather insulting in his opinion but it didn’t matter, he was annoying and irritating to talk to yet he admired his passion. The voices raged for him to bless him with his strength, to put that passion into bloodlust and aggression. 

He was retired .

Thank you very much. 

Wilbur and Tommy had spoken to him more times then any other civilian had been able to and told the tales of what lead them to Hypixel and jump from the nest. Not to mention tales of Phil and how he has been in the years he was absent from Death’s Domain. Alas came the day the brotherly duo had to leave and Techno had to bid them farewell.

“Ah, I guess I forgot to tell you Technoblade..” Wilbur strummed his guitar as they sat on the outskirts of the kingdom deciding to camp outside for the night. Despite the dangers of monsters the outskirts were much safer compared to most if not all villages. “Me and Tommy plan on leaving this area soon, we heard tales of a new land far from here. You might know the man who made the settlement.” Techno raised an eyebrow.

Only a few men he knew lived down in the overworld.

Two in actuality. 

“Phil’s making a settlement?”

Wilbur laughed and set his guitar on his lap. “That old man is out venturin! Ever since we left he’s been all flighty, I still write to him ya know. Takes a while but eventually he writes back, that’s why I’ve been staying here in Hypixel for so long.” Techno hummed but then questioned who could be making the commune.

“You know...You never quite told me if Phil was the one who told you about me, did he-?” He watched the Bard look up from his guitar again and blinked.

“It was quite easy to put together, Dadza always praised not just Death, but you too. Well, The Blood God, plus hearing about you from traveling news put a smile on his face.” The thought of Phil being proud of his exploits put a smile on his face as well, to think the old man was moved by a man with a penchant for blood. “Hang around religion and learn about gods enough, you learn a few things, plus Phil practically confirmed it for me….Now how do you kn-”

Tommy huffed from his sleep and sat up. “Shut up arseholes! Im tryna sleep here!” Wilbur and Techno chuckled at the youngests tantrum and decided to leave off the conversation from there.

The next morning he bid them good harvest and farewells on their adventure to the settlement they’ve been invited to. Techno had quite favored the Kingdom of Hypixel, despite being ruled under a monarch it had a council chosen by the people for the people. Not to mention the monarch never chose or has done any wrongdoing to it’s people…yet. 

Perhaps he was shaken of the Patron of Blood had come he’d been put on his best behavior. 

Ah, quite humorous how mortals scampered to set themselves straight at the sight of a threat.

At Least that was something he wouldn’t tire of. 

Hypixel within the next few months turned into years was his place of residence, mingling amongst the knights and advisers and council members of the King’s court. Raising the spirits of civilians, even getting into a spat with a demi god child of the sea  over being crowned number one in farming potatoes. After all, no one absolutely no one can be allowed to best The God of Agriculture at his own domain. 

Least of all a Demi-God . 

But as those days come by as the potato war and the monotony of everyday life become far too boring. The voices come back to demand blood, and violence. They were in uproar still over his disobedience to come and fight alongside Wilbur in the country he had founded amongst the settlement. His ideals went with his own even if it was government run democracy, and he knew the boy would be fine on his own. Hell, in that time between leaving Hypixel and joining the settlement he had mated with a water nymph and had a son. 

A fox son nonetheless. 

Which spoke quite a lot about Wilbur’s genetics than the mothers.

When checking his mail for more letters on the happenings in L’manburg, the country Wilbur had created. He received one from the godling he had forgotten about, he squinted and looked at the official wax sealing, it couldn’t be...could it?

I hope this letter finds you well Blade.

I, Dream, Patron and Creation of the God of Life Dream XD, formally challenge you to a duel. 

We shall use Armour, Sword, and Axe of Diamond, alongside a bow and crossbow of your choosing. There will be Ten Rounds half one day, half the other for a rest period. Should we tie there will be one more to break it, should you choose to participate in this challenge please come at the time, date, and coordinates I have written for you on the separate note attached to this letter.

Should you win you will be granted permission to enter my settlement and roam freely as you’d like, along with a favor from me on anything deemed worthy.

Should I win you will owe me a favor on anything deemed worthy and outside the favor allow me to use you as my sword for a war if need be. 

Sincerely your Rival,

Dream.

The Blade looked at the note attached to the letter and huffed, the fool thought he could beat him in a battle so much so he dare challenge him. Godling of the Hunt, verses Mortal God of Blood and War, that would surely bring in crowds. Of course the only ones who would know he is a god would be the Godling himself. Bards would wet themselves and scramble to create songs about such an event if they caught wind of it. Depending on Dream’s ego on that particular day they very well might.

He crumbled the letter in his hands and looked at the coordinates and time. The date was not too far from the current day, surely would give him enough time to restudy the Godling’s fighting style. 

With and without an axe or sword.

Not to mention take the time to relearn to wield something lighter than an enchanted netherite battle axe fit for a false patron of the blood god. Holding a diamond axe for the first time in ages was disorienting. The axe felt far to light and the small air and tingle of magic and tint of lapis lazuli felt far to out of place. It was too small for him, but he could deal with less. He has dealt with less, dethroned kings, knights and shameless bards sung tales of his impossible wins. 

THUNK 

The axe hit the oak wood once more breaking the bark and letting splinters spew out as he stretched out his shoulders. How long has it been since he had to use lighter force to throw such an axe?

 Gods how long has it been to use anything less than perfect. 

Truely bothersome. “I see you got my letter, you coming?” Truly. Bothersome. The Blade turned over to the Godling with a squint and glare in his eyes, the masked man held his hands up in false surrender and laughed. “Hey come on now, I came here to see if you wanted to come. You know I managed to get The Beast’s Vouch to come and referee our little fight.” Ah, of course he would. Dream was a man who strives for fairness, when it benefitted him. It seems the man didn’t want to be called out for foul play and would rather have a third party involved.

“The Beast? Could you not get your own sister to come with instead.” Even behind that mask he could tell Dream was frowning. Drista, The Devil; always had a penchant for mischief when it came to her brother, or brothers. Despite technically not being directly related to either she still loudly proclaimed Life and Dream family. “Hopefully you didn’t bribe the man to let you win and force me to be called for foul play. I might never let you live it down.” He heard the godling laugh as he ripped the axe from the Tree like it was excalibur. Truly satisfying, would be even more so if it was the Godling’s head he ripped it out of, or chest even. “You laugh at me because?”

“Why would I ever miss the opportunity to use you as my Blade?” 

Silence held up in the air. 

The Blade turned over to Dream, eyes much redder then they had been seconds prior. “You know you’re very fun to talk to Blade .” His true name spoken with childish spit and venom. “But I have to go now, need to make sure your crow friend isnt mingling with Death.” He retreated into the surrounding foliage, leaving Technoblade to sink in the words. 

The voices felt too quiet for once.

Techno had refused to let Dream use him, he was not a weapon to be wielded without permission. The god refused to hand over his will simply for war, he was not a God of Violence he was a God of Peace. Peace that was sought out through the use of blood and violence but peace nonetheless. A red cape blood like what his enemies spilt when he slit their throats as it bellowed in the wind. He can hear the cheers of an audience as he realized The Godling had decided to make a spectacle of their little fight . Though it wouldn’t be so little if it was of fated rivals. 

Dream, the Godling made of Clay and porcelain from the hands of Life himself. 

Technoblade, last “patron” of the Blood God before his absence and Warrior of Justice. 

The audience would be going wild , he could see the colosseum ahead of him and griminced. He can practically hear not just the roar of the crowd but the roar of his voices asking for him to shed the godling’s blood on mortal soil. To disrespect Life’s creation by making it Death’s child. Inhale, exhale and feel the wind run through his finger tips as the god of winds greets him with the gentle breeze. Dream must’ve asked for good weather with the gods, it had been cloudy and terrible the past week.

No chance to postpone the battle. 

He met with the Beast’s companions as he was ushered quickly to the waiting room, caged like a wild animal. Dream must’ve been on the other side or out somewhere being a coordinator as he could not see a speck of lime green. 

God the adrenaline in his blood was greater then the battles he won.

He smiled.

‘ Round 1! Technoblade, Warrior of the Blood god!’

The roaring of voices in his head cheered him onwards, he drank it like fine wine on a summer afternoon. 

Aged to perfection.

‘ Versus Dream! Godling and creation of the God Life itself!’ 

He readied the magicless blade equiped with the familiar weight of a bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. Iron gates slide upwards as he steps out and focuses on one thing and one thing only. That stupid porcelain mask. He lowered his brows as he frowned, a cross bow was in his hand how..unique.

Nothing could overshadow his talent with the simple bow of course.

‘ Three!’

Dream cracked his neck

‘ Two!’

Inhale. Brown eyes closed.

‘ ONE, ‘ FIGHT’

Exhale. Red eyes opened.

Silence overtook him as the two fighters, the two hunters clashed together. The warrior holding out his shield in retaliation to the swipe of a sword. “Good to see you Godling, agreed to lose to me?” Dream scoffed and backed off rolling his shoulder.

“No. I plan on winning to you.”

“Pity.”

Ducking under from the swing of a diamond axe, peculiar choice. Dream truly wanted to beat him at his own game huh? He went for the other’s mid waist to knock him downward but stumbled as he couldn’t reach to the other quick enough. So he did study him, isn’t that funny. 

He studied the other enough too, Dream chooses speed over strength. He chooses strength over speed.

The two stood shields out at a quick stand still rounding one another pretending to be tigers hunting one another. How much was on the line here again?

Ah yes.

His dignity and humanity stripped to be used purely as a weapon.

“Come on Godling .” He snarled, ‘ rile him up blood god.’ ‘Hit him! Go for the legs’ ‘Go for the head!’ ‘The heart! The heart!’ How about everything at once? “You can’t keep holding out on me! ” A shout as he proceeded his attack with furious strikes to his shield hearing it splinter under the weight. His smile of watching the other stumble back was outright feral.

“You taunt to much Blade, I thought you were the silent type.” 

Techno raised an eyebrow before the quiet but deadly sound of an arrow whizzed by as he shifted his body to the side dodging it. “You’re too quiet.” He huffed, pulling out a rod. By the end of the round he had proclaimed himself the winner by bringing Dream down to his knees. 

Round 1 Winner! Technoblade, Warrior of the Blood God!

Five more rounds for today, hopefully all wins. Even if not he should gain a lead.

The mortal god merely hummed as he stretched out his sore arms, potions laid out to help them heal should the pain become too unbearable. Dream must be loaded or be friends with alchemists to create such things let alone have multiple ready on hand. 

Round 2! Dream, Creation and Godling of Life!

Round 3! Technoblade!

Round 4! Once again Tech-

Round 5! Dream-

He sat himself down wiping the sweat off of his forehead. Three to two. Damnit, not as much as he wanted but he truly had to admit the Godling put in the effort. Perhaps he shall gain mild respect of the Blood God. He looked over at the unused potion, his battle prowess and hybrid body healed quickly and could tank large amounts of hits. But the soreness of tomorrow would...be unbearable….

It wouldn't matter if he took one right? It wasn’t a sign of weakness, it was a sign of humanity .

Besides he needed it right now. Uncorking the glass bottle he downed it like a drunkard, the sweet unique tailored to his own flavor potion running down his tastebuds and his throat. 

Just like golden apples. 

Healing potions were so odd. 

Though nothing of this world could be even considered anything less then odd could it? “I expected you to be more cocky Blade.” He looked over at Dream, the Godling had bandaged his hand after all. “You know, being the god of war after all.”

“I am much more than the god of war, I’m the god of violent, and strategic war.” He can practically feel the eye roll from where he stood even behind that mask of his. “I know never to underestimate my opponents Godling, I’d be a fool if I thought you did no research of my fighting style as I did yours.” He clipped his red cape over his shoulders and pushed pass him without any remorse. “I shall hope I win tomorrow, close fight or not.” 

“I hope to shed your blood on the battle field too Blade.”

“How barbaric.”

A chuckle from behind as he retreated to the Inn that so graciously let him stay. There he lay in head rubbing his forehead. Dream had much less to lose then he did, yet that fact made him all the more intrigued to accept. 

Sure it was unfair. But, he was quite curious how he could offer residence so easily in his settlement if need be. “Me and Tommy plan on leaving this area soon, we heard tales of a new land far from here. You might know the man who made the settlement.” He opened his eyes and sat up in bed. At first he had thought it was his dear old friend, now he was stupid for thinking that in the first place. Tommy and Wilbur were living there then huh? He couldn’t imagine how pissed Dream was hearing about L’manburg.

Especially with how he was villainized in the letters.

While he disrespected the democracy he quite favored Wilbur’s interest in keeping his loved ones safe inside walls, he had been planning an election and told him a prototype of his plans in his last letter. He closed his eyes staring at the starry night outside his window. 

Tomorrow would be a new day.

And the day he beats Dream’s ass to see Wilbur and Tommy again. 

Round six! Goes to Dream, Creation and Godling of Life 

Three to Three. 

He growled at himself, the morning had been rough. First he had woken up to loud drunkards who had decided to take advantage of the situation and got discounted beer at the tavern. Next the Inn had no coffee to serve forcing him to go out and find the nearest Café in the damn village for some caffeine in his system. Lastly, he was almost late as he had gotten himself distracted all the more to throw him off his rhythm for the first fight of today.

But it would be fine, a simple tie wouldn’t hurt anyone especially right now. 

Techno unclipped his cape and set it aside, he had been in such a rush he couldn’t even take it off. Inhale. Exhale. ‘ Blood for the Blood god!’ ‘Not every battle will be won, but every war shall be.’ ‘His dominant hand is shakey, disarm him.’ 

Right.

 He was still just as injured if not more than he was the previous night, despite being a Godling..He was still made of clay and porcelain wasn’t he? All he needs to do is stay ahead. War or not, he still needed to think things through. 

Rrrround seven! Goes to Technoblade-

Four to Three.

Round eight! Dream-

Four to Four.

Round nine! Technoblade on a roll!

Five to Four.

He sat in the waiting room. Five to Four. Five to Four. Should he tie they’d need to break it, should he win..Well then he wins. Keeps his humanity. Keeps his dignity. Best of all, wins the coordinates to the settlement. He bandaged his arm and leg the best he good. Despite spilling first blood that didn’t mean the speedy bastard got thin but deep lacerations. Who knew diamond could cut so deep.

That was neither here nor there.

Inhale.

Exhale.

‘ THREE.’

The voices roared to let himself go. It was what Dream wanted right? He wanted to see him as The Blade . 

‘ TWO.’

Distantly he wondered if Phil was in the crowd. Perhaps the old man was watching him from afar, perhaps he planned on getting the results elsewhere.

The rising sound of rusted iron as the gates rose into the heavens. Though that was only an exaggeration.

‘ ONE. FIGHT’

The hybrid took off with a jump his sword out ready to take the first hit, end it once and for all. He glared watching the Godling take out his crossbow and shoot it towards him, not only did Lady Luck have to be on his side. But the winds and speed too, he needed the man to slip. To feel cornered. To be cornered. For once all he can hear is his own heart beat and his own paced breathing.

The roars of voices have washed and calmed over like a receding tide. Swipes and slashes as he hurried to land a hit as if this was some butchered and ridicously scuffed fencing match.

Concede.

Concede Godling.

He can hear his breathing speed up as his frown deepened. “Gods- Did I rile you up badly? Ha-” Dream held up his shield in a quiet gasp as he saw Techno shoot one of his arrows letting it sink into it. “Not pulling your punches are y-”

“ Be quiet.” Techno had switched back to his sword making a swipe as he witnessed Dream come down with his axe.

Red eyes have hints of brown as he had realized the crowd had gasped. The voices became silent, truly silent. What a human face the Godling had, surely modeled after Life’s mortal form. Freckles, emerald eyes. Now a scar on his face to match, however he felt his hair fall limp to his shoulders.

I see. The sword no longer in his hand.

‘ Rod use the rod!’ ‘DEARM HIM’ ‘He’s weak DO IT’

Do It Do it DO IT

He let out a shout in a burst of rage as he ripped the diamond Axe out of the Godling’s grasp kicking him in the stomach down to the dirt floor.  A familiar sight, too familiar. The poor soldier who had asked him years ago “How...How do you do it.”.  For a moment that lasted a mear few seconds it felt like years for him. “Blood for the Blood god.” He swung the axe down before hearing the Godling shout.

“ I CONCEDE.”

The sound of an audience roaring and chanting his name, his mantra, his god name. Techno didn’t realize how exhausted he had become, he smiled and held out his hand for the Godling..for Dream to reach for. 

Techno brought him to his feet and held his hand upwards. ‘ ROUND TEN AND DUAL GOES TO TECHNOBLADE! WARRIOR OF THE BLOOD GOD!’ The voices were proud, Dream looked at him in disbelief he simply let the adrenaline waterfall over him. He hoped Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy were proud too, even if in the end it shouldn’t matter. 

The village was celebrating for his win, he split his monetary winnings with Dream as the Godling had decided to stay for the night. “I thought you’d be ready to go back to watching over Phil.” Techno took a sip of his apple cider as Dream simply sighed, pulling his hood down practically feeling shameful at the loss of his mask. While Techno should feel the same of losing the hair he worked so hard to grow..somehow it worked, was about time he cut it anyways right? “Oooh, don’t like the job Life gave you?” He smirked as Dream griminced.

“I'm destined for something greater.” The mortal god hummed, stirring his drink with a straw. “It’s why I made my settlement, ah- Yes I still need to give you the whitecard and coordinates for it-”  He dug through his practically bottomless backpack and pulled out a pristine whitecard that practically radiated magic with a compass pointing elsewhere but north. 

Techno hummed and marveled at how technology had come since he was first born. Dream seemed to notice and explained it to him rather nonchalantly. “Callahan, the deer spirit. He made these for me when I first started out, helps keep unwanted visitors out. It took a while to get the right enchants, but it was worth it.” Techno couldn’t imagine what enchants could be used, perhaps ancient long forgotten ones that no longer served a use? 

Or proper use that is.

“so, I can come and go anytime I want?”

“Well no duh .”

Before going to sleep that night he looked at his chopped up hair in the mirror and sighed deeply. 

Perhaps fixing it would be a necessary thing to do, instead of letting it lay there barely above his shoulders. It would be hard but with a dagger, some courage and almost cutting his skull it would certainly end up looking okay. Even if he quite enjoyed the long hair. Hair was just hair. It would grow back eventually.

Dear Technoblade,

I assure you this letter comes in good health as I, Wilbur Minecraft-Soot have officially arrived at the settlement I have spoken about. Tommy had ventured out making me days late compared to the little rascal but I had to take care of my son who had fallen ill due to the new environment he had been set in. I hope for great things here, there are many as far as I am aware of who have yet to come. Remember when we first met? Ah, I do, I never did hear your opinion on my lovely song.

If you’d like the next time we meet I shall sing it for you?

Haha. Only if you would like of course. You’re a tough nut to crack dear friend, gods above I sound like Phil. Nevermind that, tell me what you’ve been up too. News is hard to reach this far out when you’re venturing into no mans land. 

Sincerely, Your favorite Bard.

Wilbur Minecraft-Soot.

Techno sighed as he set aside the letter now worn down with age over the passing years. It has been years, since he had received it. He glanced over at the one in hand, frantically and manically written as if he was going to be caught at any moment. Wilbur went from a man who strived for success to a man worn down from war to a fugitive praying to a god who no longer worked as one in such a short amount of time.

The mortal god wondered if it was worth it to come join, his residence was no longer in Hypixel so he was a free man who could walk anywhere he so damn well pleased. 

Brown eyes reread the words on torn dirtied paper hastily folded together into an envalops. 

Technoblade.

Please come to the settlement, things went wrong. Wrong. Very wrong.We need you. Make haste if you dare, beware the godling you rival with. Do not let him get to you, trust  no one.

-Wilbur

It only made him wonder what in the world god him so anxious for him to come forth. Why would they need a blood god to serve them and visit their home? If they needed Technoblade that was fine, yet he knew what Wilbur actually wanted. He shifted his papers and checked over the last letter he had been sent before his own reply. 

Did it connect? It must.

It has to...

Dear Technoblade,

It has come to my attention that I was not democratically elected as president, I am well aware you most likely groan at me speaking about government's . However I feel as though this will not do, my country, L’manburg, is built on freedom and free will most importantly. Should the citizens within my blackstone man built walls feel as if they had no choice than to deal with a leader like I it will feel hypocritical of me.

Therefore after speaking with my cabinet—most importantly Tommy, my Vice President. I have decided to hold an election, if you’d like to come forth and become a sponsor of mine please do!

I am sure I will win the favor of many if I have you endorsing me, however I still understand you do not wish to involve yourself in messy politics and rather use swords then words on a battlefield. I can win my favors through sheer courage and will, or use one of my many connections for influence in this election should anyone else try to become president. 

I have been slaving away writing promises and bills that would propel me in favor of the people. A malicious little worm in my head told me to cheat my way through it but I persevered. 

Sincerely, 

Wilbur Soot. 

Son of Philza.

While short this still rivals your most longest letters with how much information you have crammed into here with such short word count. May I remind you I am still a face of justice from tyranny? I still involve myself quite well into politics as I have to look into the geographic political atmosphere to see what kingdom is in need of my blade and speeches. You think too low of me. However I do still greatly disagree with your democracy.

Though I know well enough neither of us shall change stance on what we consider correct or not. You mortals are fickle like that, just like us Gods. Or. Former God, in my case.

I remember you mentioning Theseus as your vice president earlier on in our correspondence. Must you give the child such a big responsibility? Boy’s barely reaching his teens last I checked. Unless time has gone by awfully quick and you two are in your thirties and twenties now. As far as I am aware Tommy left as a mere ten year old, now..If i kept count. The boy’s thirteen? Possibly fourteen if I remember his birthday being in the spring months earlier. Tell me, how is your son as well ? Hybrids with Nymph blood in them grow up awfully quick, I am sure he has become quite the young man. Especially with the war you had finished a year earlier. I must not bore you anymore then I should.

The Godling has challenged me to a Dual, my dignity for his pride. There is more to it than that but it is what it is. 

May Death’s Trail be far from your Soul.

-Techno

How had the election gone so wrong? Who had dethroned or put his friend in such a panic he wanted.. needed his help? He picked up his quill and grabbed a piece of parchment. 

Son of Philza.

I shall come within two weeks time. When this letter reaches you, one week. Hang tight, 

May Death’s Trail be far from your Soul.

-Techno

Short, simple, and to the point. He sighed and hoped his send off would stay true, those who found themselves worshipping Death herself in recent years would wish others safe travels by wishing her trail of darkness not lead them to their doom. All gods had sayings like that, he would use his own but… Simply put, adding ‘ May Bloodshed bring prosperous Harvest.’ didn’t feel right.

Too gory.

Though wasn’t death’s also as gory? 

Ah. Who knew, he simply felt it fit with the fact Wilbur worshipped her. 

At Least he assumed so.

… Perhaps he had jumped to conclusions.

Techno shook his head and began packing, leaving his stack of letters over the years to the bottom of his bag as he slung it over his shoulder. A quick caw to a friendly crow as he tied the short letter to its foot. Wishing it farewell as he told it where to go. 

By the time it would reach Wilbur, Techno would be a weeks away from the settlement.

“Techno get on the horse come on! ” His arrival was..Messy to say the least. The Second he touched the borders it was like chaos scattered through the wind. Tommy and Wilbur hurried to make their way on over to him before anyone else could. “We gotta go go go go ” 

“Alright alright.” The Mortal god hopped onto the horse with ease. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s rode one before, certainly not the last. The three had made it back to their current and Techno’s new place of residence. “Ah, a dirt mound? Not surprising considering you two never had much building prowess.” Attempting to lighten such a damp mood, hell even the voices were sad over the state of things. Tommy chuckled, which he took as a personal win, but Wilbur didn’t say anything.

Down he went into the spiral made staircase into the ravine now called Pogtopia, such a childish name he must admit. Though now the voices can’t stop repeating ‘pog’ after hearing Tommy say it several hundred times. 

Wilbur again. Remained quiet. It worried the retired god, must he go further into this spiral he certainly wouldn't come out of it okay. Not to mention no one had bothered to explain to him a single detail of what happened. The three sat around a makeshift campfire, it reminded him of the last time they had seen each other, several years ago. “So…” He clicked his tongue and leaned against the stone wall, he knew the fluff of his cape would be dirtied but it was nothing new. “Mind explaining to me what happened? Your letter..Seemed rushed compared to the one before it.” Wilbur messaged his forehead as Tommy stared into the fire. 

It was clear they’ve been through alot the pass few weeks. 

“It started when me and Tommy had told one of our mutual friends, and ally, Quackity that we were holding an election.” The hybrid hummed, something like this would only go downhill from here wouldnt it? “He wasn’t a citizen but we had exclaimed anyone could run...and so he did.” From there Wilbur explained the story of the election.

From his betrayal of a sponsor Schlatt, to how his own son even went against him with his friend Nikki and had ended up in last place. “Of course our campaign had won..but.” Wilbur looked down in disappointment. “I had gotten too cocky, I allowed Quackity, Schlatt and George to form a coalition Government. They beat us by 1%. Right when we had our win in our grasp it was torn away.” Techno blinked, now for the story Wilbur had not mentioned George at all. George was..Familiar… 

Wait.

Tommy and Wilbur looked at him, ah. He must’ve spoken that out loud. “George? As in...As in the god of sleep?” Now he knew him, it was his mortal name. The god who sucked up to Life and the Godling himself. The two boys blinked at the realization they had been fighting not a demigod, not a godling, no an actual god. A god who had been too lazy to even show up to the presidential election. “mm...You two have your work cut out for you if you have the Godling, George, and by proxy Life against you.” 

Though he had the blessing of a fellow goddess of Death by his side and her murder of crows. If he could beat Dream, he could beat him again. No worries in the slightest right? “But how did you two even end up here? Did he-”

“He exiled us you arsehole, you thought we just fucking ran out here like mad men acting as if everyone now hates us? God. Fucker even got to Tubbo.” Tommy clicked his tongue and held a look of sorrow. Tubbo, tubbo, tubbo. Where did he hear that name again? Ah Yes! The brown haired boy that tagged along from time to time. “I don’t think Tubs would..would side with his shit of an uncle or anything..Right Wil?”

Wilbur furrowed his brows.

Its times like these Techno wished he was a mind reader.

‘ This is not pog guys.’

‘We must get the godling on our side! Godling will grant us materials to tear this goat man to shreds.’

‘Schlatt sounds like he sucks. Throwing out Wilbur and a literal kid like that…’ 

For once he and the voices were on the same page. Thank god for that, while some complained about working with Dream again. They truly had no choice, the ruler of the settlement would bring good luck if they had him on their side of this revolution. Now comes the other worry, government. Revolution often meant citizens coming together to overthrow a tyrannical ruler, being thrown into exile for simply losing an election is..Rather trynnaical to say the least. There are so many ways this could go wrong.

He was almost throwing his ideals to the wind to reinstate a democracy. However the voices had already convinced him to move along and work with them. 

Which brought him to now.

Paddling an all too small boat for him to an undisclosed location he had been dragged too thanks to Dream. Perfect. The godling definitely has no ulterior motive behind this, his letter said as much.

Who was he kidding though. There was definitely a sense of suspicion to this, he had only dueled the man weeks prior and had been working with Pogtopia rather publically among the settlement as well. “Good to see you again so soon Dream.” The godling had looked taken aback by the use of his name. “What did you bring me here for, another fight? I promise I’ll deliver if need be.” 

Dream scoffed and crossed his arms. “No need, I’m here to speak to you about Pogtopia. The..revolution and all sorts.” Techno hummed. “I cannot get myself involved..publically, I'm not apart of L’manburg, and I’d rather work in the shadows for this.” 

Shadows? Creation of Life itself actually deciding to work in Death’s Domain? How ironic, he wondered for a moment if Life approved of such a thing. But dismissed it to keep on topic. “This is all relevant because..?” The hybrid raised a brow as he watched the godling pull out a satchel, a satchel that was graciously handed to him. Techno looked at Dream as he opened it to see materials that would’ve taken ages to collect had the godling not given it to him. Diamonds, Golden Apples, hell even a single Enchanted Golden Apple. “You’re kidding.”

“I'm not.”

“mm..Pleasure, doing business with you Godling.” He can tell he was scowling behind that new mask as he threw an ender pearl to leave their secret location. The voices were suspicious of the godling’s kindness but had taken it as a win on their part. 

Dream was on their side and that’s all they needed. 

Atleast it was what he needed to calm his worries for the time being, even as he watches his once good friend deteriorate infront of his very eyes. Wilbur was always a man who was smart with his words, who never gave up unless he knew it was a loss cause. Unless he was worn down past the bone. Tommy was a different kind of person, he spoke with violence and spat venom in every sentence he spoke. He was the definition of spit fire and could never sit still and let injustice take over when he can do something about it. Watching their ideals get in the way was..

Disturbing.

Perhaps it was why he pushed himself out of the picture, why he took his domain of agriculture and fixated on it tenfold. Perhaps it was why he had shielded himself away from the violence for once. From the harsh words of two once close brothers, atleast he knew they saw each other as such.

Wilbur cared for the boy and it showed through in his letters. Especially when he heard of Tommy’s self-sacrifice to earn L’manburg independence. What a foolish boy he was, yet Techno can applaud him for being a hero with a heart of gold. Perhaps it was why he saw himself arguing with the hero with a golden and yet weak heart. He hadn’t meant to harm his friend, he hadn’t meant to explode not just him but the surrounding crowd of the festival. 

Festival.. The Festival

Gods.. 

The Festival

The Festival drenched forever in the blood of its citizens trapped within the invisible walls of the renamed Manburg. He had been invited not as Technoblade, ally of Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit, but as the Blood God’s last blessed warrior. Who carved trenches and filled them with tyrannical blood. He saw himself up there on the podium looking at the scared horned boy, once so young and reckless, scared for his own life as he watched a crossbow loaded with a single rocket aimed for his face. Urged by not just Schlatt, the boy’s.. Tuboo’s own blood but by the voices at the thought of spilling crimson on blackstone.

They were starving. They wanted blood, they wanted to be fed, to be fed innocent liquid that flowed inside them that pumped into their hearts.

Something oddly poetic about doing this. Going through with his murderous tendencies, like Heracles when he had murdered his own family in cold blood. A man who spent years cultivating peace in his mind only to have it torn apart by a ruthless god. 

Except Schlatt was no god. He was a mere man, and Techno had no trials to go through to save face. Only he, himself and the Pit he found himself in. He looked over at Wilbur with red eyes, the man was deranged. He needed help, yet it was help that would never come would it? Not in their situation. Wilbur counted down and all he can hear is the roar of an audience. 

“How...How do you do it.” The stranger bloodied and on the dirt floor of the ring he hadn’t seen ages ago had asked of him once.

Except it was not Baldir, but Theseus asking him “why..why did you do it.” Techno stumbled for a moment. He did not see the stranger he had dubbed Baldir, he saw Tommy, he saw Phil, hell he even sees Wilbur all at once, he hears the voices whisper and begin to taunt and cry out at him scream even. Yet he paid no mind or any worry over Theseus’ words.

He climbed out of The Pit victorious, yet was he really the winner? Was it fair to fight a child when he had millenia of experience, when he was a War God of Peace and not Violence? He crouched down to the boy, regaining his consciousness and promptly spat in the warrior’s face upon seeing it. “You wanted to talk, we talked. You wanted a fight, we fought, In the pit Tommy. Violence is the universal language among you mortals isn’t it?” He rose to his feet.

“Another day. Another day, and another plot against Manburg, we’ll rise. Whether you want to join us or not..” he scoffed, brown flakes shine in the dim ravine lit up softly by lanterns and torches. “It will be your funeral.”

He had left the three to lick their wounds as he would lick his own. Tubbo was most likely caring over Tommy’s, the boy had claimed to forgive him. But he wasn’t so sure himself, who would forgive the man who shot him with a rocket and only made it out alive because he was the same man who had handed him potions of healing afterwards? In his opinion he wouldn’t even forgive himself for it. But truly to each their own. 

The Mortal God merely would continue as he always has, gathering materials for the revolution, to farm and to calm the unquenching thirst of violence the voices crave from him. Once a date had been settled for their final battle he knew he would be prepared for blood shed.

However he had second thoughts.

Perhaps it was human of him to gain second thoughts against his own ideals. Perhaps he was human for caring about two mortals despite their differences. Wilbur had gained explosives from Dream, damn that godling for planting the seeds of war. Should he be called a seedling instead? It was more fitting for the situation at hand anyways. Wilbur planned on exploding his magnum opus to the skies above, something to this day Techno never forced himself and still can't understand. 

Why must mortals destroy the things they care about?

Why must they be so corrupted they create a plan to stage a coup and tear down a man who clearly had no one by his side? This was no revolution, this had no justice. The blood split was not ichor or wine that can be celebrated and cherished.

It was simply..

Pitiful.

Sad. 

Tiring, and a multitude of words he could describe but would never fully encapsulate how he felt. Among those feelings were anger, disappointment, and a need to destroy, to kill, to shed blood on a battlefield that had none but of a drunkard who lost everything he never gained. A man who had everything and yet nothing to lose, a pity he ended up in the dirt several feet under. 

He watched the torch of presidency be passed down once, twice, thrice. His fist clenched as he stared onward in betrayal. It would come to this, of course it would. He has watched his once well known friends become people he no longer recognized. Men who only bore resemblance of a past long gone. 

Eyes shine a crimson red, redder than the brightest red stone that could be found buried beneath the blood soaked earth, he swear he can even hear whispers of the Godling telling him he would stand by his side should he commit to his goals. Should he go through, shoot his rocket at the traitors infront of him. He held the new ‘president’ hostage with his crossbow as the crowd screamed at his violence. He missed it. Was that a bad thing? Perhaps it wasn’t, he was embracing a side of him he had held off for weeks until this battle. Until this disappointment of a finale, he shall bring one better. Techno can hear Theseus screaming at him running toward him before he yelled at him to stand back.

Stand back or else he shall actually lose his friend and spill a not so innocent blood on the dry dusty dirt. He did not see innocents among the crowd, only corruption and blood that is yet to be shed. “Let me tell you a story Tommy, a story of a man called Theseus,” he started as the voices continued for blood. They wanted it. He wanted it. Yet all were patient as the wind blew on the battlefield. “His city, his home, his country was in danger. You know what he did? He sent himself forward into enemy lines, he slayed the minotaur and saved his city.” He pointed to the place Schlatt had died on, the place their battle ended so anticlimactically.

 “You know what they did to him Tommy?” His smile is anything but joyful. “They exiled him, he died in disgrace, despised by his people, that's what happens to Heroes Tommy!” His smile replaced a frown as he spat out his venom and poisonous words that seeped into the boys brain. 

Tommy’s words fell on deaf ears. He had no care for them; he only scoffed. “If you want to be a hero, that’s fine.” The timing couldn't be any more perfect. The trigger had been pulled, Withers, monsters that could be considered a symbol of The Blood God spawned as the country that was once fought for exploded beneath their feet. “If you want to be a hero, THEN DIE LIKE ONE.”

Screams and blood splattered around him as he relished in the feeling.

Had it been so long since he felt true godly adrenaline pump into his veins as he watched destruction and carnage happen around him, was it always this exhilarating? Eyes that shone brighter than the brightest redstone dust, brighter than the shiniest ruby glanced to see a face he hadn’t seen in years. ‘Phil?’ ‘Zephyrus! He has come! He has come!’ ‘Where is his child?’ ‘Pestilence, famine, war, they are here too’ “Kristin.” The goddess looked over at him as did his old friend holding his son bleeding out with an out of place peaceful smile on his face.

“Phil.”

Phil stood holding his son close to his chest, his wings Techno just knew he prided himself on, being burnt beyond relief. The pain the man must be in was too much to even imagine. Kristin shook her head and let the veil that fell over her hat cover the expression she bore on her face. Techno in a moment of coming down to reality nodded at her.

He knew what he had done,

He knows his cape is blood soaked, his hands filthy and unclean. As they always have been.

He was one thing and that thing would never be human, never be kind, never be weak. 

He was only The Blade, a god hellbent on tearing apart tyranny and injustice. If it had been his downfall that day he wouldn’t be surprised, even if he would deny it. 

  May Death’s Trail be far from your Soul.

But the one thing Techno always knew was. Death’s Trail would never be far from him.