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Vir sailed through the air, and for the first time in his life, he truly lamented his inability to change directions mid-flight. It simply wasn’t an ability one appreciated until the need arose.
The need had arisen, and now, Vir would give anything in the world to have it.
The creature hadn’t just adapted. It’d nullified Vir’s attack even before it’d begun.
Showing impossible speed, the monsters steadily crawled up the hemisphere, covering it in a layer of armor. Armor that comprised their own bodies.
It was better than armor, actually—dozens upon dozens of projectiles shot at Vir, even as the main body’s tentacles smashed down left and right. Each wielding Warrior Chakra, and several coming far too close for comfort.
Vir barely managed to activate Haste in time, allowing him to twist away and barely avoid a tentacle by a hair’s breadth. Less, actually.
Vir felt the icy grip of death as the tentacle brushed against his skin. Prana Armor negated the damage, though even that brief encounter left it severely depleted.
As much as Vir wished to sink into the shadows and regroup, he didn’t have that luxury right now. He continued sailing through the air—directly at the dense swarm of beasts. With each pace of distance closed, the chance a projectile actually hit grew.
And with Prana Armor running low…
It's what they want!
The beast wanted him to smash into it. So it could pummel him with unavoidable Chakra attacks.
It was a trap, and Vir refused to let himself fall into it.
Time slowed to a crawl as Vir maximized Haste. Doing so burned his internal prana reserves at a furious rate, but it was a necessary sacrifice.
Mustering his concentration, Vir focused on a Phantomblade spike that sailed toward him in slow motion.
The issue with Haste wasn’t that his body moved slowly—it was that every tiny movement generated tremendous force. After all, to the world, he was moving tremendously fast. And speed generated force.
Right now, force was not what Vir wanted. Surging prana into his arms to Toughen them, he reached out, and as delicately as possible, grasped onto the incoming projectile.
Vir’s greater mass met with the spike’s fearsome speed, stopping it cold. In the process, he altered his own trajectory.
Letting go of Haste, Vir plummeted to the ground… and into the realm of shadows.
If he was to defeat this monster, he’d need a new plan. One that accounted for its surprising level of intellect.
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It was no use. Whatever Vir tried, the enemy countered with a prescience that made Vir wonder if he was actually fighting an Iksana wielding Clarity—the Ultimate Bloodline Art that allowed them to glimpse the immediate future.
He tried cleaving a path with Blade Launch. He tried surfacing next to the giant beast’s hemisphere to drain it. He’d been thwarted every time by minions who rushed to fill their fallen brethren’s place.
And through it all, Vir felt his frustration rising. Frustration, not at the strength of his foe, but his own weakness.
Chakra-laden spikes whizzed past his ear as Prana Darts fired outward, annihilating anything within five paces.
The opening bought him a few precious seconds, but as always, it did little good. More spikes followed, forcing Vir to dodge.
There was one reason, and one reason alone that explained why he couldn’t deal with this foe with ease. His utter lack of defense against Warrior Chakra.
The Shield Chakra protected against such attacks, and the Heart Chakra allowed one to recover from them—essentially healing the soul.
However, bemoaning his deficiency, as cathartic as it was, would not help him defeat this foe. He needed a new strategy, and needed it soon. His prana reserves were so depleted that Vir could feel the lethargy seep into his muscles, and Prana Armor was all but stripped away. From the earlier tentacle’s swipe, and from the handful of near misses he’d had since then.
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It was only now, with his back against the wall, did Vir realize his mistake.
He’d been thinking of this foe as a beast. The same as all the others he’d fought in the Ashen Realm—their minds broken by the Ash. Their tactics lacked both depth and breadth, making them easy to dispatch once one understood their strengths and weaknesses.
Except here, in the Demon Realm, there was no such prana poisoning. No overwhelming pressure that slowly corrupted the minds of all creatures who lived there. That usually meant the monsters here were far weaker. In fact, this might’ve been the first time Vir encountered a foe similar to himself—a beast capable of retaining its prana reserves in a deficient, barren land.
Perhaps as a direct result, it had developed intelligence. Vir had known that from the first moment he’d fought it, yet he’d been unable to alter his tactics. If he had… perhaps he wouldn’t be in such dire straits.
Maybe I should retreat…
It was nothing more than an errant thought. Were this a year ago, Vir might very well have done exactly that. Were this the Vir who thought of only himself and those close to him, he’d have turned tail long ago. It was the sensible choice, of course.
But when his eyes scanned the battlefield, when he took in the hundreds of weapons and pieces of armor just lying unused, he understood that fleeing was not an option.
Time was not on their side. Vir had to return to his demons before their supplies ran out. He didn’t have the luxury of waiting around another several days for his prana to recover, and the prisoners needed this equipment if they were to have a fighting chance. He’d need it to prove that they really had braved the dangers this pit posed.
Vir used the remaining moments in the Shadow Realm to formulate yet another plan. When his time ran out, he exited.
Prana Blade wreathed his talwar, its low consumption making it one of the few effective weapons Vir had left.
With precise applications of Micro Leap, Vir danced with death as he darted between lethal Chakra-laden swipes as he cut open enemy minions.
Before him, arms were severed, and legs cut. He sliced the digits off the minions’ paws and stabbed into their abdomens.
Never killing. Only injuring.
This was a gamble, pure and simple. On some level, all strategies were, but this one was especially borne of desperation.
The minions might’ve acted as one unit, but they were each clearly living beings—each possessing hearts and minds of their own. Which meant they could be hurt. If there was one truth Vir knew, it was that all animals felt pain. And pain was the enemy of rational thought.
Their interconnectedness that formed the backbone of their formidable strength would become their most damaging weakness.
Because it wasn’t only thoughts they shared, but sensations as well. Sensations such as pain and feelings of fear. Of terror.
The effects didn’t take long to manifest. Minions shirked back whenever Vir approached, their self-preservation instincts warring with the mandate of the hive mind.
Vir continued to pierce, slice, and cut. Now, instead of a field of corpses, Vir was surrounded by a ring of emptiness.
“Is that all you have?” Vir roared, brandishing his talwar and pointing at the beasts who formed a circle around him, staying a good twenty paces away.
“You can’t make more if I don’t kill any,” Vir said, his pose showing absolute, infallible confidence. “Can you?”
Wails of pain were Vir’s only reply. Which was fortuitous because his mental state was far from the confidence he projected. Running on his last wisps of prana, he felt weary, spent, and most importantly—exposed.
He stood in a den of beasts fully capable of tearing him limb from limb, and as he was, he barely even possessed the capacity to escape.
Now!
Vir disappeared into the shadows, praying to Badrak, God of Luck, that his own fortune would hold.
Emerged next to the hemisphere of the beast’s main body, Vir struck. This time, instead of rushing to form a layer of armor, the nearby beasts hesitated..
Some shirked back, while others moved timidly forward, their individual minds refusing the command to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.
It lasted only an instant.
An instant was enough.
Vir’s palm met the inky black flesh of the hemisphere… and with every ounce of force he could muster, he began to drain.
Several things happened in quick succession.
Prana surged into Vir’s body at an absurd rate, rapidly refilling his blood and re-establishing Prana Armor.
The black hemisphere visibly shriveled around Vir’s palm, becoming leathery and gray as if aging at an accelerated rate.
Finally, the beasts around Vir began to rampage. Whatever compulsion that had been commanding their obedience disappeared all at once, and they laid into one another, slaughtering with reckless abandon.
Vir took the opportunity to fire a Blade Launch directly into the hemisphere before High Jumping to a safer position, breaking his drain of the hemisphere for the briefest instant.
If the monster noticed the cessation of his draining attack, it certainly didn’t show it. Not when it was writhing in pain from the Blade Launch.
Once on top, Vir smashed both palms against its slimy membrane and ruthlessly pulled. When his body could take no more, Vir began hurling Talwar Barrages back at the beast, using the very prana he siphoned to inflict wound after wound.
Like a deflating hot-air balloon, the hemisphere collapsed in on itself—dead.
Precious few minions had survived the mad slaughter, but their efforts earned them only the briefest extension of life. Like marionettes whose strings had been cut, each and every surviving minion collapsed lifeless to the ground.
Vir hardly had the time to notice. Standing atop the hemisphere as it deflated, he found himself suddenly falling.
He’d expected to land on the ground beneath the hemisphere, and as such, braced himself for impact. A fall from this height would hardly faze him—his Leaps and High Jumps often took him much higher.
Which was why his stomach fell out from under him when he didn’t stop. Nor did he even slow. In fact, he gained speed. Falling. Deeper and deeper into an abyss whose bottom was nowhere to be found.