Technique Deployment [https://www.shutterstock.com/image-illustration/graveyard-night-spooky-cemetery-moon-600nw-1810155346.jpg]

Arthur Olvasen POV:

Everything had gone according to the initial plan so far, like a well-rehearsed opera-performance.

As I had guessed, The Wujins were an extreme case of a hivemind. What made them specifically such a huge threat was not even their sheer numbers and the pure vicious nature of them. It was the Queen.

The Queen – if I had to assume – had better leader qualities and general traits than most of human politicians in our current era. She was a true leader, and her intelligence, despite the fact that it was a monster, was frightening.

Monsters were supposed to be mindless creatures, not capable of complex, intricate thought processes. But what the Wujin queen did was beyond one could expect. The only reason why I was able to still outplay its defences, because I continued to overestimate the specific criteria of monsters.

I had thought of it as a veteran army general.

And I am glad I did so. Because even when I executed my actions using this thought process, I still had a hard time. It would've been easier if the soldier and commander Wujins could think on their own since that would bring other uncontrollable factors into play.

However, much to my dismay, they were like puppets attached to strings to her. They could not even breathe without her. This absolute dominion over her subjects, coupled with intelligence was something that – if not dealt with in due time – could result in a total wipeout of a whole city in a few minutes.

I suppose it was our – humans' – luck that me and Michael were teleported here.

Just as the Wujin was my natural enemy, I was its natural adversary as well.

1/3 of the whole fleet was immobilised after it passed through the ravine that I had told Michael to make. Using it as a chokepoint, I had lodged many swords there with their metallic surfaces pointing outwards. This – when imbued with a specific frequency of a sound wave – acted as an antenna.

Since Wujins communicate via sound waves, it could be either disrupted using magnetic waves, or using sound waves of opposite frequency which would cancel out The Queen's orders. Since disruption via magnetic waves was hard, I had opted to cancel them out.

This strategy in conjunction with Astrid's ability to seal almost everything in place and Michael's superior physical ability, we were able to thwart more than half of them without even fighting or killing them. And while I could've had Michael fight these monsters…

I had something else in mind.

During my previous fight with Ed, something had happened to me. I am not sure if it was my paranoia or something else, but I had morphed into someone that was not me. An irrational beast who had nothing on his mind, save for pure bloodlust and the undying urge to kill.

That was not me. Despite the vague, hazy past of myself, I could tell this much.

When I gained my rationality, I felt someone was watching from afar. Someone much, much stronger than Ed. He could've attacked, but he didn't. It was strange, but it told me a few things.

The main thing was that the person in question wanted to talk.

Just so I could talk with the person and not get interrupted by a vengeance seeking son, I had Michael take a role which didn't tire him out but at the same time made him look like a really big nuisance if not removed in due time.

And while talking to someone from Eden who has nothing on their minds other than killing us was one of the most stupid things a human could do, it was still worth a shot.

Ed didn't immediately attack me. He wanted to talk things out.

And the one who was stronger than Ed didn't attack as well. He just merely observed from afar and even suppressed his aura.

As I watched Michael engage in a full-blown fight against Ed, I breathed out a sigh of relief. As I had guessed, I was not targeted.

I suppose that person will be coming soon as well. As I jumped off the pile of corpses, a huge runes inscribed circle stretched over the entire place before I could even step on the solid ground.

I suppose I miscalculated. Or perhaps I am getting ahead of myself, but this doesn't feel like a thing a person who is in a mood to negotiate would do.

"Technique Deployment." The Demon who had introduced himself as Jayden Cromwell mumbled with a huge grin over his face. "Requiem of Eternal Rest."

The entire expanse suddenly turned white. My eyes snapped shut for a brief moment. However, I snapped them open, mild panic slowly rising from the pit of my stomach.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I was trapped. There was no way I could get out of a Technique Deployment. Nor did I have a way to counter it.

The only chance that I had was…

I looked up at the sky which was now the same bright white as everything else around me. I was trapped in separate—for the lack of better words—pocket dimension. My sole chance of making it out alive, my trump card, was not yet here.

I was in a deep mire of odds callously stacked against me.

Before my lips could move to say something… anything to buy time, shadows seeped into the white static void, twisting and coalescing as it turned the monotonic world into a grim and bleak graveyard.

Hoary, gnarled trees loomed overhead, bare branches clawing at the grim, murky sky like bony fingers.

The ground was a heterogeneously eclectic jumble of cracked earth and decaying leaves, broken only by rows of crooked, weathered tombstones between the wide columns.

Small graves sprouted in every direction, each one marred by crumbling stones that were covered in disarrayed moss, clumps of clay and ivy.

A thick mist swirled around the graves, clinging to the ground and then raising upwards until it covered my ankles. My feet seemed to squish, as if trapped in a viscous solution of something uncongenial.

Worn paths wounded through the cemetery, leading to deeper shadows and hidden corners that stretched for as far as my eye could see.

A chill ran down my spine. As I looked back, a solitary Christian Cross—or that is what it seemed like—hung from nothing, silhouetted against the darkening horizon.

By the time I returned my gaze back at Jayden, he had already removed his hand from his eye, signalling the completion of his Technique Deployment. He stood straight, his arms clasped behind his back and he had a vulpine grin on his face.

I waited, looking solemnly at the man in front of me whose mere presence seemed to scorch the air in my lungs. It was painful to breathe, further punctuated by the usage of Slipstream which I had exploited way more than what my body could handle.

My left arm seemed fairly silent, and I couldn't move it freely. Even curling my fingers sent such jolts of pain through my left arm that I had to bite my tongue to suppress the groan. However, the pain also filled me with some hope. It was not lost.

I had just exhausted it.

But I couldn't dwell on the slight glimmer of hope for too long.

I was trapped inside a Technique Deployment, an environment crafted specifically for the user's advantage. No amount of effort or strategy could save me from this situation.

Except for external help. Unfortunately, Michael was unable to use even his Arcane Art, let alone perform a Technique Deployment.

'Fuu…' I breathed out.

Every inhale felt like a shard of glass scraping against my throat and lungs, scuffing against my tongue like sandpaper being forcefully rubbed against it.

My body screamed at me to not even think about it, however, I had to try it. Expanding my senses, I tried to look for it.

Any small presence of a spark. Anything at all. His technique deployment was already complete. However, if I managed to get out of here using Slipstream, at least I could avoid getting killed with one strike.

But any sort of connection I had with the outside world was severed and I couldn't even feel the naturally occurring fields that usually exist all around us. Not just the fields, even the ambient Arcanum felt out of reach.

I tried to fight against it, the hold—or rather the void that had been created around us, shutting down everything for me. But nothing budged. Like the bond of an atom, it refused to let go of each other, maintaining the hardened shape.

"Your efforts, despite how futile, are quite amusing to witness, human." Jayden's voice reached my ears. However, unlike how one would normally perceive someone's voice, it was like a murmur.

Like a ghostly apparition whispering—above and beneath, from my sides and even from underneath the ankle length slimy liquid that filled the entire inner domain of the Technique Deployment.

The voice was garbled.

Or was it my ears that were so heavy that even my heartbeat now felt like hearing to something underwater? I couldn't tell.

I didn't, or rather, couldn't reply.

My limbs were weak, and the last flickers of Arcanum danced erratically inside my primary node, ready to vanish at any given moment.

I struggled to steady my breath, desperately clinging to the Arcanum, refusing to let it slip away. Like a child clutching a beloved toy, unwilling to let go. My fingers trembled as I straightened my hunched back.

My breath gave out a slight quiver, audibly as I swallowed a spiky, dried lump of saliva.

"Judging by the typical progression of human ageing, despite your rather vintage appearance—at least according to us—you seem quite youthful," he mused as he picked a stray lock of his curly hair and gently eased out the tangle that it had formed around his front horns. "Your level of talent and power at such a young age…" He raised a genuinely curious brow as he continued. "Is quite remarkable. I must admit, it's almost flattering to be in your presence."

There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. His words felt genuine, and his face shadowed with an equally honest blend of curiosity and mild amusement.

"I don't think you are in a situation where you need to delay killing me." I spoke for the first time, keeping my voice from cracking as I willed the little Arcanum I had left to speed up the healing process of my body. "Unless."

I paused deliberately, the frigid pain shooting from my left arm feeling like a barrage of spikes of ice stabbing it. The loss of blood from my torn muscles and cuts was catching up to me.

My vision blurred and doubled over as the last wisps of Arcanum in my node sputtered out, leaving the healing process to decelerate to a near standstill, reverting to its natural, sluggish pace.

"Unless?" He arched a brow, faking a puzzled expression. "Let's hear it."

"You either want to negotiate," I rasped through a ragged exhale, every word a struggle beyond words, "or you never intended to fight humans at all. Right from the start" My voice wavered, filled with the weight of exhaustion and the direness of the situation, as my body trembled, barely holding on.

There was no point in delaying our conversation. I could not syphon any Arcanum present in the air. It was inaccessible. I had already expelled any thought of fighting back. Because I might've had the slightest of chances if I was on 100% of my Arcanum reserves.

"Interesting choice of words." He took a step forward. He was standing on the surface of the viscid, syrupy liquid that was subtle holding me in place. As he walked, the water body? underneath let out loud wet squelches. "Or should I say an interesting line of thought?"

A step he never took brought him right in front of me. His form was towering over me, looking down with no visible emotion on his face. I kept my back straight, refusing to neither bend underneath the growing ache in my spine due to the symbiote's attack a day ago nor the growing pressure of Jayden's aura that weighed down slowly at me like a boulder.

"That is a question to be left to your own interpretation of my words." I spoke again, keeping my words measured. "Afterall, I am not the one with options in the current scenario."

He looked down at me with a frown. He was quite tall and looking up at him tired my neck. However, just as the silent stare down was about to get suffocatingly oppressive, he replied. However, it was strange.

It was oddly familiar, like a whisper of the past. Someone I had talked to. Someone whose voice would follow me, even after her death.

Jayden's looming shadow had wilted and a wave went through his entire skin. It felt like a million different bugs were crawling right underneath his skin, each mandible and sensory appendage's silhouette marked along the pale skin.

Before… I could look away, or even blink, the tall stature shrivelled down, like a person disappearing behind the silk curtain in a magic trick. His clothes undulated in the air for a few seconds before plopping with a squishy sound.

But before it could make contact, I blinked- hesitatingly, and it was gone too.

A voice. Like a sharp knife slithered across my skin, raising gooseflesh across my body.

I didn't bother to turn around. There was no killing intent. And even if it was subdued, there was no reason for me to panic. It was better to stand in place and save as much breath as I could.

In the far distance, far beyond the 'walls' of this Technique Deployment, across the sky, the towering translucent dome—I felt something. A source of power. A source that felt like my own, yet so distinct... brutish that I dislodged the idea from my mind.

It was inching closer. With every second.

Closing in while tearing the fabric that separated us, battering the atmosphere itself. I couldn't tell what it was. Was it the effect of Michael and Ed fighting?

I couldn't tell. My senses weren't heightened enough to tell such intricacies apart.

"So, you know how it feels to be on the other side of the cutting board, human?"

It was a familiar voice. I shouldn't have doubted my senses. The cause was Jayden Cromwell, of course, but the voice did not belong to him.

I slowly turned my head to my left, looking in a straight line to my shoulder. A head peaked in, slightly tugging at my roughed-up sleeve.

As I looked down, I let out a deep, shaky breath.

It was a woman.

A woman well past her prime.

Her long violet hair, roughed up and tangled, cascaded in disarray of interwoven strands of white and silver.