Hey! Author here! Sorry for the lateness, but my only excuse is that rl came to soon. But it's alright now, since I gave you this chapter. I changed my writing style, and I have to say... damn, am I sexy. I mean good. Yup~
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A woman is being pushed by a beam of light. Her back is arched, and her breasts shake from the unsteady concentration of the beam. Her yell echoes through the area she is in, where nothing can be seen, not even her hands, although she can see her breasts shaking oddly.
“DDDAAAAMMMMNNNN YYY-YYOOOOOUUUU DDDDAAAAAMMMMMOOONNN!!!!!!”
Her bumpy voice echoes in her ears, her eyes always looking ahead to a current of water that swirls similar to that of a whirlpool. The lights flash inside the water, some figures can be seen but not made out.
The Stearate was about let her off this bumpy ride, and she was pleased despite her constant yelling.
She rapidly approaches the water, and does a spectacular belly flop against it. Oddly enough, the water moves aside for her, and the light peters out behind her, causing her to run through the water.
She slows to a walk as daylight begins to strike her face. She thanked her God Yuran for her speedy getaway and proceeds to warn the men and children before her. The children already have the look of death on their faces as soon as she opens her mouth.
“You vermin! Help me block this MTC! God’s enemies are behind me, walking into this very area!"
Although she doesn’t like to use this rough tone of voice, she must. Although she hears a slaver murmur, “I want to be hit by that,” From one of the men in the crowd. She felt as if these men were filthy beyond her belief, but necessary for survival.
She turns to the side of the Stearate and walks away from it, to draw distance from herself. In all honesty, she was frightened of what was chasing her. The skeleton man was an extreme adversary in her mind, and she had trouble escaping his sword.
The sound of sliced meat falling upon the ground of the desert calls her back from her thoughts, and she sees the skeleton man already out of the water and hacking away at her meat shields. The shock stills her as the man continues to hack away, the sword flashing in the sun.
The Priestess readies her fists, the metal knuckle guards already equipped since the beginning of her escape. Her heart beats fast, her adrenaline beginning to produce an effect on her body. Her bosom shakes from her heart thundering, her breath shaking.
The amount of bodies piling along the man’s path begins to increase, due to his swift slashes. The wind is pushed by each stroke, a body already added to the death toll. Oddly enough, two young slaves survive, but this thought is pushed from the Priestess’s mind.
The skeleton man cuts through the last slaver, bisecting the slaver’s body into two halves. A wicked grin is on his bony face, blood smeared against his lips and nose.
He dashes forward, his blade raised into the air, its curved edge reflecting the light into her eyes. This doesn’t stop her as she raises her fist to clash with the sharp sword, the wind turning up the dust around the meeting of the two. The man’s smile unnerves her, despite the elation of the adrenaline rush.
Time stands still as the two meet, knuckle against sword.
The man’s eyes widen, and he pulls back his blade, bringing it forward once again for the inevitable clash. The fist comes forward once again, and pounds down on the blade, causing it to dig into the sand. She smiles and jumps back a few feet. The man looks at down at his grounded sword, and lifts it back up into a stance with only one opening. The Priestess doesn’t take the bait and continues to keep her guard up, one fist lowered and one raised.
The silence is broken as two earthen pillars grow out of the sand, and the clanging of chains starts the signal of the 2nd round.
The sound of feet tapping the ground can be heard if one strained their listening holes, but the eyes would not be able to follow such high speed movement. The exchange of blows was similar to that of a dance, and the pair only became easily visible when a finishing blow was used.
But this was not enough for the Priestess.
Her rough breathing was testimony to her stamina as she swung her fist once more to block the nonchalant blade of the skeleton man. The man smiles once again, this time his teeth pressing against his skin, showing their disturbing outline.
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He jumps back a good few meters and sets his sword into the ground, and not in the sheath that has materialized on his back. He blows air out of his mouth, lifting his long hair out of his eyes.
“Jeez~, this is too boring.. I can’t be excited from this level of play.”
The Priestess frowns at his words and continues to stay in a ready stance. Her breathing shallow but still rough. She spares a glance at the two surviving slaves, or what should have been two. Instead only one slave was at the earthen pillar, and the sound of metal sliding on the ground echoes through the compound.
She begins to look up out of curiosity, but the sword of the man slices down mere centimeters from her faces. The shock gets to her, and she stumbles away from the sword’s appearance.
“That’s so~ rude! Y’know Priestess. You never,”
The man lifts his sword, and makes a stance to throw it.
“Never! Look away from your opponent!”
Realizing what the man is doing, she steps forward and punches his shoulder, causing the thrown swords aim to be off. It hits the earthen pillar, causing the support for the massive weight to crumble and tilt it forward.
Ironically, the Priestess didn’t realize that the other slave was just behind the pillar and not actually near its top.
The Priestess backs away after the single punch, and begins her ‘finisher’, where she begins to murmur a mantra to herself. The skeleton man does nothing but watch, his shoulder doesn’t even bear a mark from her assault. Curiosity is practically the only thing keeping the Priestess alive, oddly enough.
Her mantra finishes, and she leaps forward. Unlike before, the one step she is initiating has her full power behind it, and she uses that to hit the skeleton man in his bony belly. Just a hint of resignation comes from the man, and he is blown backwards be the sheer power of her attack. This causes him to fly into one of the buildings that have now become empty.
At the cost of such power, the Priestess shakily steps forward and bends over, puking out what remains of her nourishment. Unsightly, but if the life force was used, she would most likely die from that output.
After wiping her mouth, she looks up to see the pillar just about crushing the portal, only a meter or so away from completely hitting it. Panic grips the Priestess, and she once again uses the technique first part to it.
Her leg glows slightly, reflecting white light off of the sand despite the weather bearing down on it.
She pushes off of the ground, and ends up speeding over to the portal. Only half a meter before it makes contact with the Stearate.
When she touches the water, she lets out with a whisper of her wanted destination. The water glows, but not before the the pillar makes contact with the Stearate, causing the water to ripple.
The image in the water shifts slightly to the slaves, and a force is exerted on her that draws her into the water.
The Stearate sends out a ‘blip’ sound before collapsing.
The skeleton man walks out from the destroyed lodging area, and looks over to the Stearate… or what used to be it.
“Oh no~, what will I ever do~.”
The smirk on his face is full of malicious intent, causing some of the corpses around him to burst like blood bags. The blood itself begins to draw itself around him like a river and a lake, forming a puddle of blood underneath him.
From it, the sword he threw grows out of the blood, with the puddle shrinking for ever centimeter.
He grabs the hilt and plucks the sword like a dandelion, and caresses it. His eyes open widely, the strain ever apparent on his face.
“It’s time to hunt~, sweet one!~”
The tone of his voice and his face would make one think that he had gone crazy.
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