I requested access to one of the reinforced workshops on the fifth day of my stay. The kind of forge that could withstand divine-level crafting without melting into slag or exploding from the energy saturation.
The celestial quartermaster who approved my request seemed uncertain. "These workshops are usually reserved for archon weapon-smiths working on major artifacts for the eternal war. Are you certain you need that level of reinforcement?" Although I wouldn't be going 100% into crafting, it would still be a major work I would be doing.
"I'm certain," I said. "What I'm planning to forge operates at a power level that would damage any normal workshop you could give me."
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Lord Bahamut did grant you access to our facilities. I believe workshop seven is available. It's the one that is reinforced with adamantine plating and warded against energy discharges up to ninth-circle equivalents. Do you think that will that suffice?"
"Yes, that sounds perfect."
I also requisitioned materials from the celestial armouries. Celestial steel, the special variant they used for their devil-slaying weapons. Blessed by archons, and quenched in holy water drawn from the rivers of Lunia, forged specifically to be anathema to infernal essence. And from my own dimensional storage, I pulled celestial bronze, the divine metal I'd worked with for millennia, the metal that worked so well against supernatural beings.
The combination would be challenging. Two metals with vastly different properties, different melting points, and divine and arcane magic. But if I could forge them together properly, the result would definitely be something extraordinary.
I spent the first day studying the spell notes Bahamut had given me, focusing on two spells in particular: Disintegrate and Protection from Evil and Good. These spell notes were so much better than the ones I'd picked up from Korvus.
Disintegrate was a sixth-level spell, pure destructive force that reduced targets to dust. The notes were clear: if the spell reduced a creature to zero vitality, the body disintegrated completely. True death, at least in this cosmology's understanding of it.
Protection from Evil and Good was simpler, a first-level spell that created a barrier against attacks from fiends, celestials, and other extraplanar entities. It was basic defensive magic, but powerful in its simplicity.
I wanted to bind both effects into a single weapon. A sword that would cut through infernal defences like they were paper, that would disintegrate devils on killing blows, and that would protect its wielder from retaliatory strikes.
The forging took days.
I started with the blade structure, folding celestial bronze and celestial steel together in alternating layers. The metals resisted combination at first, their different properties creating unexpected stress points in the structure. I compensated by adjusting the temperature and finding the narrow band where both metals became workable simultaneously.
Divine hammer strikes, thousands of them, each one calculated to compress and align the molecular structure. The blade slowly took shape, emerging from formless metal through sheer, persistent effort. The hammer strikes, shaking the workshop fiercely, and had it not been for the reinforcement, then it would have come down upon me already.
While the blade was still hot, I inscribed the spell formulae. Disintegrate along the cutting edge, the runes glowing white-hot as I carved them into reality. Protection from Evil and Good along the fuller, creating a channel that would project the defensive barrier outward from the wielder.
The quenching was the most dangerous part. I needed a a liquid that could withstand both physical heat and magical saturation. I used a mixture of holy water from Lunia, oil blessed by several archons, and a few drops of blood donated by upper celestials, with divine blood to bind divine craftsmanship.
The blade entered the quenching bath with a hiss that sounded almost alive. Steam filled the workshop, glowing with rainbow light. The steam was so hot that it glowed, and the temperature would have melted or set on fire everything around it. When it cleared, the sword lay cooling in the trough, its surface rippling with barely contained power.
I lifted it carefully, then tested its balance. Spinning it, throwing it up and down, and catching it. The weight distribution was ideal, the grip was comfortable, and the edge was sharp enough to split almost anything when wielded properly.
The enchantments hummed beneath the surface, ready to activate on command. One strike would be all it took. One killing blow, and whatever devil it touched would cease to exist entirely.
I'd created a weapon designed specifically to kill devils permanently, with a godslayer blade, in its way, though intended for infernal targets rather than divine ones.
The question was: who should wield it?
I couldn't keep it myself. I was travelling soon, and didn't need a weapon specifically designed for a particular eternal war. But someone fighting on the front lines, someone who understood the value of permanently removing enemy commanders...
Urgala, it would have to be.
I found her in the fourth heaven, coordinating defensive positions with a group of celestial commanders. She looked up as I approached, her expression shifting from really focused to curious.
"Heph," she said. "I heard you've been working in the reinforced workshops. Did you create something interesting?"
"Here, I made this." I pulled the sword from my dimensional storage, presenting it across both palms. "For you, if you'll accept it."
She took the blade carefully, testing its weight. Her eyes widened as she perceived the enchantments woven into its structure. "This is... what have you done?"
"Combined one metal from my plane, celestial bronze and celestial steel, with two spell effects. The blade will disintegrate devils on killing blows. It will reduce them to dust that can't reform even within the hells themselves; the only ones to resist the effect would be the archdevils. The fuller provides protection against infernal attacks and mental effects." I paused. "It is single-use for the disintegration effect. Once activated, the enchantment will persist for approximately one hour before burning out. Use it wisely."
"This is amazing, even if it's only single use," she repeated, her voice carrying a note of awe. "You've created an incredible strategic weapon, one that could permanently remove enemy commanders from the Blood War, and you're just giving it to me?"
"You're fighting on the front lines. You understand the value of your war far better than I do. In the next major engagement in Avernus, when the opportunity presents itself, use the sword. Remove whoever's commanding Zariel's forces. Set her back as far as possible."
Urgala's grip tightened on the hilt. "This could change the battles to come immensely. Shift the entire campaign. Why give it away?"
"Because I'm not fighting your war," I said. "I'm just passing through, learning, building things. You can actually use this. Teach Zariel not to mess with me further, set her back as far as you can."
She studied me for a long moment, then bowed deeply. Something I hadn't seen her do for anyone except Bahamut. "I accept this gift in the spirit it was given, Heph. And I swear on my honour that it will be used exactly as you intended. In the next major engagement, the enemy's commanders will fall, and they won't be coming back."
"That's all I ask."
One Week Later: Avernus, First Layer of the Nine Hells
Urgala crouched behind a ridge of volcanic glass, surveying the battlefield below. The River Styx wound through the wasteland, its poisonous waters carrying the souls of the damned. On the far shore, Zariel's forces had established a fortified position: three cohorts of legion devils, supported by pit fiends and commanded by two of Zariel's six dukes.
This was a major engagement that determined territorial control for decades.
The celestial forces were positioned in a three-pronged formation. Archons held the center, their shields locked in perfect formation. Aasimon warriors flanked left and right, ready to exploit any opening. And Urgala commanded the entire operation from her position on the ridge.
"All units, prepare for advance," she said into the communication crystal. "Archon companies, forward on my mark. Flanking forces, hold until the enemy commits their reserves."
The battle began with a roar. The archons advanced, shields blazing with holy light. Legion devils met them with disciplined brutality, their formations holding despite the celestial onslaught.
The two dukes commanded from the rear, directing their forces with their infernal tactics. Duke Ravanos on the left, specialised in fire magic and aerial superiority. Duke Belthar on the right, master of defensive formations and attrition warfare.
Urgala watched the engagement develop, waiting for the right moment. The sword Heph had given her hung at her side, its weight a constant reminder.
The enemy reserves committed, pit fiends entering the battle to shore up their weakening center. The archons were being pushed back slowly, their formation beginning to buckle under concentrated assault.
"Flanking forces, execute now!" Urgala commanded.
The aasimon warriors struck from both sides simultaneously, catching the enemy reserves between hammer and anvil. The legion devils' formation fractured.
And the two dukes moved forward personally, trying to restore order through their presence.
Urgala erupted from her position, transforming mid-flight into her true dragon form. Forty feet of golden scales and righteous fury, diving toward the battlefield like a meteor.
Duke Ravanos saw her coming, raising his hands to cast. Fire magic, enough to incinerate entire cohorts, gathered between his clawed fingers.
Urgala drew the now enlarged sword as she descended, the blade singing as it left its sheath. The enchantments activated immediately, power flooding through the weapon.
She struck.
The sword passed through Ravanos's hastily erected shield as if it were paper. The blade caught him across the chest, celestial steel and celestial bronze cutting through infernal flesh and bone and essence.
Disintegrate activated.
Ravanos's form exploded into dust. Fine grey dust that was scattered by the wind. His essence, which should have fled back to the Nine Hells for reformation, simply ceased to exist. The sword had unmade him.
One duke down.
Urgala landed, her massive form crushing a dozen legion devils beneath her weight. Duke Belthar was already retreating, attempting to fly away, now recognising the threat. She pursued, wings beating once to cover the distance.
Belthar raised his glaive, infernal power crackling along its edge, and his expression filled with hate and fear. "You'll pay for that, worm!"
She caught his strike on the sword, the enchantments protecting her from the weapon's corrupting influence. Then she twisted, disarming him with a move that spoke of centuries of combat experience, and drove the blade through his skull.
Disintegrate is activated again.
Belthar dissolved into dust, his essence following Ravanos into oblivion.
Two dukes down.
The battlefield fell silent for a heartbeat. Both sides stared in shock at what had just happened. Two of Zariel's most powerful commanders, centuries-old veterans of the Blood War, were reduced to dust in less than a minute.
Then the celestial forces roared with renewed vigour, and the infernal forces broke.
The legion devils retreated in disorder. The pit fiends tried to maintain a rear guard, but the archons pressed forward with overwhelming momentum. Within an hour, the celestial forces had pushed the enemy back across the Styx, reclaiming territory that the celestials had lost decades ago.
Urgala stood among the carnage, the sword still clutched in her clawed hand. The blade was cooling now, the enchantments fading as their power exhausted itself. By tomorrow, it would be just a well-crafted sword, the magic consumed in those two perfect strikes.
But what strikes they'd been.
She looked at the weapon, then toward the distant sky where Mount Celestia existed beyond mortal sight.
"Thank you, Heph," she whispered. "You've given us a victory worth celebrating."
The sword had changed the battle. Changed the war, at least for this campaign. Zariel would need years to replace commanders of that calibre, and in the meantime, the celestial forces could press their advantage.