Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Cold, Part Two
The battlefield pulsed with a dark energy, growing colder and thicker with every second. Thyrex’s eyes narrowed, his gaze darting toward Caelum, who stood beside him, a sinister smirk playing across his lips.
“Let’s step it up!” Thyrex shouted, his voice cutting through the tension like a storm’s first clap of thunder.
Caelum sneered, his lips curling into a cruel grin as his eyes darkened to a deep, unsettling purple. “Oh, I’m already there,” he replied, raising his arms dramatically. “Summoners Fumi: Eternal Torment.”
Shadows twisted and writhed around Caelum, bending to his will as he summoned forth an army of spectral soldiers, the flickering remnants of warriors lost to his dark power. They emerged in twisted forms, their hollow eyes devoid of life, reflecting only the agony that bound them to Caelum’s call.
Caelum’s sneer deepened, satisfaction glinting in his gaze. “Arise, my faithful!” he commanded with a voice that dripped with venomous authority. “Your suffering continues. You exist only to fulfill my vengeance.”
The spectral soldiers lurched forward, their weapons, rusted swords, jagged spears, and cracked shields gleaming with an eerie, light. The air around them grew dense with despair as they marched toward Sirius, each footfall heavy with the weight of their eternal torment.
Sirius, standing alone against the oncoming wave of phantoms, rolled his eyes, his lips twisting into a sardonic grin. “Puppets? Really? Is this what you brought to face me? Hate to break it to you, but you’ve just handed me all the atoms I need for this to get really messy.”
As the spectral soldiers closed in, their wails pierced the air like thunder, reverberating across the battlefield. They swarmed Sirius from every angle, weapons raised, but he moved like a dancer among them, his body agile and precise, each swing of his spear cutting through the ghostly forms with ruthless efficiency.
But something felt… wrong.
With each strike, Sirius noticed a strange, draining sensation. His Hindo pulsed along his spear, but each connection seemed to sap his strength. It was as though his Hindo was slipping through his fingers, his spear feeling heavier with every attack.
“Alright,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “this might get annoying.” He spun his spear in a deadly arc, cleaving through three soldiers at once, watching as they disintegrated into mist. Yet even as they dissolved, he felt the chill of their spectral essence cling to him, gnawing at his vitality.
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Suddenly, three more soldiers launched themselves from above, their ghostly figures spiraling down with a flurry of dark steel. Sirius dropped to one knee, raising his spear in a swift, defensive arc. The ethereal blades clashed against his weapon, and he felt the draining pull of their essence again, weakening his hold.
Before he could catch a breath, another soldier charged from behind, swinging a massive ghostly hammer. Sirius ducked and spun, jabbing his spear backward and skewering the phantom through the chest. But once more, his hindo waned, slipping away with every connection.
“Not today, amigos,” he growled, “I’ve got plans, and losing here isn’t one of them.” he muttered under his breath, “Yozora would never let me hear the end of it.”
Realizing he’d have to escalate, Sirius took a quick breath whispering, “Hawking Fumi: Methodical Breakdown.” His mind raced, analyzing the spectral forms down to their very atoms.
“They’re spectral, but they’re still made of atoms,” he reasoned,“It’s all about atomic structure. Methodical Breakdown lets me dissect anything scientifically... even ghosts.” He shifted his stance, focusing his hindo. “I’ll send neutrons at the nuclei of their atoms, start a chain reaction, and blast these specters into oblivion.”
Dodging another flurry of spectral strikes, Sirius prepared himself, aligning his Hindo with a rhythm he felt pulsing through the chaos. He dodged, rolled, and lunged, dodging their strikes with precision as he readied his energy. Slamming his spear into the ground, he funneled his Hindo into the earth, sending a rippling wave of energy beneath the spectral army.
“Let’s see how you handle this!” Sirius shouted, unleashing the power he’d amassed. The ground beneath the phantoms trembled, cracks spreading as his energy built to critical mass.
The soldiers hesitated, flickering for a moment in the wake of his assault. Sensing an opening, Sirius thrust his spear forward, channeling his power.
“Hawking Fumi: Blitz.”
In a flash, he tore through the spectral army with speed and efficiency, his spear slicing through them like a blade through mist. As he spun his spear, locking it in a fluid, lethal motion, he declared his next move.
“Hawking Mass Decay!”
A blinding surge of energy burst forth, each spectral soldier detonating in a dazzling chain reaction of green fallout. The sky lit up as the phantoms disintegrated, the battlefield blanketed in the luminous, eerie light of their dissolution.
With a final flourish, Sirius called, “Hawking Fumi: Fallout Absolution,” gathering the fallout from the phantoms’ destruction, ensuring the energy dissipated harmlessly, sparing Ignarok’s realm from its toxic touch.
Sirius turned his gaze to Caelum, his voice dripping with mockery. “Your vEngenCe, bluh bluh… what a sad way to fight, coward.”
Caelum’s face twisted with rage, but Sirius simply raised his spear, eyes gleaming with a deadly glint. “Listen up, boys,” he taunted, his tone deceptively casual, “if you don’t come at me with everything you’ve got, this’ll be over in four moves.”