OoC: A dwarf by comparison to your last. x3

BiC:

If the demonic sword had a mouth, it would have a smile broad enough to match the vampire. The man in front of it appreciated the situation: neither would die no matter how hard they tried. Not to mention the fact this contest would, most likely, unlock a lot of the weapon’s suppressed abilities.

“I like the way you think,” spoke the Hellfire Sword. “Today shall be the end of this city, for I accept your challenge, vampire.”

At first, the man looked mildly surprised that the weapon could talk. However, the grin on his face widened significantly as it continued. Meanwhile, the woman who wielded the sword had doubts floating around in her mind. On one hand, the genocide of this city would mean she could keep watching the sword. On the other, she could retain her morals, but be marked as an enemy and have to leave things up to fate.

Mioska found herself trapped in a difficult position, since neither option appealed to her. Reluctantly, she’d go along with the plan, merely nodding her head once to the vampire then looking away. It looked like she’d have yet another memory to repress until it faded away in time.