Murai had no time to use his Blades to change the outcome of this loss. He lost this direct clash. That was all about it. But he saw Blade's usefulness besides supporting his actions or distracting those axes. Crashing one of them would give him the groundwork for further tactics. Most of his Blades went to the armor, or the axes hit them first, giving him a much-needed reality check.
Every Blade exploded next, giving him no good signs or feelings.
Murai stumbled meters away, feeling a dull sensation on his beak that went against that axe. His neck and spine took a hit, but he ignored it for the time being by flexing and shaking the pain away. Perhaps it was the adrenaline or the source of his Robust Spirit that helped?
“Asshole...” He cursed and Shaped another set of Blades. Backlash of his Peak didn't stop any of his Shaping. He focused far too much on everything to lose it all. He returned to his prior strategy, but not the Peak. He unleashed his Blitz instead, which should still be able to do something, but its effectiveness came after enduring and focusing on the continuing absorptions of attacks and swings.
Blitz gave the beak powerful properties that protected him against backlash and attacks, empowering his neck and head with mana. Then, the combination of momentum and clashes improved every swing by taking hits.
But it still lacked a considerable level of efficiency and his handling needed more experience. Blitz like the Peak didn't move with his beak alone. It needed the work of his neck, proper stance, stability, and swings of momentum. His entire body, ranging from legs, hips, or wings bore some momentum even if he was small and lightweight.
It all counted for something in the end. Peak was more unhinged. All he could do was sway his neck behind and hit head-on. With Blitz, things were kind of different.
He didn't want to give this captain any time to come up with bad ideas, because it could learn and act according to his weakness. The Undead Captain could do it. Their instincts were suitable for learning, and this one wasn't stupid after taking these first couple of clashes with disdain and confidence.
That was why Murai began to change his tactics by attacking non-stop, hoping to come up with something that would help him against his desperation and continued steps that he couldn't stop.
The Undead Captain kept going for the boy while undergoing his barrage.
Anything! Murai was getting desperate from the 16th clash of his Blitz that barely flinched the pair of axes. He stumbled instead, and each clash dulled his head and the feelings of his beak.
Every loss was like a slap to his face. Literary.
And by this point, the captain was within the boy's reach. Just a swipe of one axe can end this Island, but not the Gate. There was no failure here. Just loss.
Murai was on the ground, growling and looking up at it from 2 meters away, lost.
He can't do shit to that armor, or stop those steps. His mana didn't work. His beak felt weak. His beak had some effectiveness against the legs, but the pair of axes went against him in time, causing no advantages to come and rescue him from his misery. His Blades disintegrated against the armor while attacking the legs ended up as a failure.
Captain can do his tactics too. He started to protect his steps by lowering his posture, which lowered his speed but increased his stability. Another advantage was more time for attacking, so it went ahead like it wanted. It didn't give him many chances with its instincts and overpowered defense that didn't feel proper on a Captain.
His Peak never failed him in a proper channeled manner, while Blitz under dozens of strikes held powerful momentum that could crash some bones and flesh of anything below level 40. Well, there were exceptions to this rule, as he had yet to test every exceptional foe.
Murai didn't like being tested. It was way out of his league. It wasn't even that crafty. It was just annoying. Irritating.
Seeing him from behind, slowly reaching for the boy, Murai suddenly got an idea.
His eyes turned bright with whitish force. Standing upright, he forced himself up, just when the captain put his right axe behind its shoulder, ready to swipe at the boy and cleave him in half.
Swoosh!
The exe slashed the air, leaving no blood on falling to the ground.
Murai jumped like a rocket, knowing that if he couldn't stop the mountain, he could move the river in the way. He reached the boy in time, slamming to him, grabbing his bleeding shoulder by his beak, and shoving him away.
This process was quick and not something he wanted to use. It wasn't about cleverness or tactics. It was just last-ditch efforts that had very limited uses because this damned half-dead boy was out of his mind.
The boy grunted in pain, feeling that the sturdy beak cracked his arm. Murai would hit him again if he wanted, but he landed beside him, also grunting, but not in pain. He hated this tactic.
For the first time on this Island, Murai was past the point of anger and hesitations. He finally snapped in fury, pushing his Will over the edge and using something he hadn't in a long time.
Perhaps never, when he thought about it.
Strike of the Will.
It was a rare atypical ability based on his Will and soul, pushing it all forward to touch the Will of others. Perhaps it had some other powers and limits, but it was like eyeing something with pressure of no gravity, yet it felt like gravity. It wasn't mental alone, but coercing in powerful Will that shuddered the reality.
His was small because he was short, but it was notable by a whitish glint in his eyes. When he unleashed this ability, it worked like shimmering pressure in his case, making it an ability that could evolve.
A small explosion echoed, looking as if wind pushed the wind. It was enough to force this ridiculous boy over the mental edge. Murai was no longer willing to watch his blank face that had almost met that axe.
It was ridiculous. He did it with complete willingness, giving up because of his injuries or pain.
Now, both of them gave up on something in their minds.
It was preposterous. All stops lost their meanings. Murai had never seen this mess in all of his lives.
His Will pushed into his mind next, shuddering so little of what was left of this elf's pride. If there was anything left, that was.
Murai didn't know what he was doing. If he was making a mistake with this, he would never regret it. Not like this at least. Like with Iris, his Will can hurt someone weak-minded, young, or anyone with an already weakened mind. The use of his Will alone to talk to others worked in different principles from the Strike of the Will that manifested the power of souls and emotions.
But right now, Murai figured they were all connected. Putting or striking with his Will out manifested the power of his soul.
This boy should be weak above the norm and even more, yet the surge of pressure washed over him, shuddering and shocking his face. His eyes and nose bled, but his mind surprisingly sharpened, almost exploded, and survived.
A properly connected Will to someone else usually needed a mutual agreement, but Murai had no time for that shit. Strike of the Will did its justice, so it was time to talk to this bleeding and awakening fool. Murai invaded his soul without any qualms or consequences. And this time, the boy did not need to even consider anything, because he can't do shit.
Murai forced himself upon him since there was no shred of care in his mind. Being polite or easy on him was useless.
In this manner, Murai knew he could crack his mind, made him a cripple, or kill him in so many ways, he would wish for an easier End.
But the boy already did wish that, so what of it? Talking into his soul if he would survive his Will was a hopeful idea that sounded better than utter loss.
Waking him up in this process might provide some sort of benefit.
And he needed to be quick. Captain was turning, so he shouted into the boy's soul.
“What the fuck were you standing there for, boy? What an utterly shameful appearance! Elves are the kind of beings that I look up to! You are shaming their mere speck of presence in your Bloodline and my memory you little shit. Their whole Authority is crying! Their grace and history span many cycles. Shameful! Wake the fuck up and work for the sake of your race and don't even think twice about caring for the End. You hear me?!” Murai shouted to his soul, causing more pain to him because he wasn't polite with his power that cruised and damaged his already weak mind and body.
The boy listened. He collapsed to the ground, bled, and nearly cried. Pain and this shouting voice shocked his mind. He couldn't do anything else while Murai continued with what he wanted to do because this was the best outlet he had ever found.
“Being proud of your past, even if it isn't in your head, isn't a bad idea. So what if your current life is a dogshit. So many have it like that already, so why do you need it too? Have some backbone, will you? Have it like them? Hopeless and weak? You have some resemblance of a core in your midsection, but your mind is like a fluttering piece of dried flower in a storm. So silly. So useless!”
The boy shuddered and hoped to crawl away. At least he was able to move.
“Being different is fine, but one has to have the guts to be dependent on one's Will and bear the marks of failure or success with equal confidence. Learning allows growth. Failure is what it is. Loses empowers the winners. Your eyes are long past any glances of the living... I can see that you lost your mind, you wimpy bastard!” Murai decided to act with much more force than he wanted, picking up a fight with his face by slapping him twice.
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Physically, his wings worked surprisingly well for slapping, even if his inner voice provided mental slaps much better.
He still had time before the captain arrived, thanks to the Will that he sent in a few seconds.
“Get on your fucking feet or crawls away like a rat that you are. Move away to that corner of this arena, or I will bite your cheeks and drag you there myself! Got it!?” Murai gave him a series of orders, poising his wing above his eyes and red cheeks.
His Will thundered its way around the boy's mind, so he kept trembling, facing the consequences of the Strike of the Will, while Murai's Will almost finished his spirit as a whole.
Somewhat, it didn't cripple him, which Murai considered to be a surprising miracle. An unexpected one too.
Murai gave him what he considered a bare minimum gift, even though he would give him at least thrice more words and even more of his Will. But the boy wouldn't survive that. He kept trembling, painfully growling, and touching his head, alive.
It worked and his voice reached his head. Murai didn't regret this quick jump after all, nor the use of Strike of the Will that he wasn't all that sure about. It wasn't an ability that sounded great from the start, and he never heard anything about it since he had it. True, he never tested it or used it very often, but pretty much anything was subject to some readings and upgrades.
Either the Will of the Battleworld couldn't touch it, or Murai wasn't touching it enough to validate its leveling or powers.
This meant that ignoring abilities was not a good act to do. One should use what one had to change them and improve them, otherwise, they will become useless garbage.
Well, a whole lot of beings in this world did consider and had many such abilities at many stages. They called it simply trash skills because their usefulness was subjectively terrible so they wouldn't focus on even touching them. Evolving them could help, but it wasn't worth it at many points.
Murai didn't think of Strike of the Will in this way. Its uses may be sporadic, but it was soul-based, so its power and uses weren't trash because of his soul alone.
After a sudden silence, the boy stared in shock and the sight of a duck, until a wing slapped his face again, shaking his face. He was wondering if he was insane after all. He was. Perhaps.
But, he was also feeling the pain differently than cut, blood, or hit, as some voice crashed his mind and talked in powerful tones. It was very powerful and meaningful. Clear too, so he glanced at this duck that spoke to his soul, remembering that helplessness was just a point in Chaos that he long accepted to be his End.
At last, the veils of his soul turned crisp, or the long submerged layers of his emotions and soul were torn apart. It was either Murai's wing, voice, or he was just a helping tool to help this boy crash it himself. Either way, his soul became softer and more emotional, and his body soon followed. Tears flew out of the corner of his eyes, drenching his sorry and bloodied face.
Soul was an important prospect across all of the elven histories and worlds. It was precious among countless races too, as a soul was a factor that everyone possessed.
This boy lived a shameful life, and he was preposterous about what his race, family, parents and the grace of his bloodline gave him. He had given up without shame before. It wasn't surprising. He was the kind of slave that had very little chance of surviving in this current world. Everyone like him would be like him in these circumstances. Most elves would.
The boy clutched his hands, accepting the voice and these slaps by nodding to the duck that was ready to slap him again. He began crawling to the corner how Murai wanted.
He whimpered in the process, hurt and suffering, but Murai was at least glad that he crawled.
Seeing his success just in time, Murai tore the last bit of his hesitation away, along with a piece of the boy's shirt that was in his beak. He waited for its plan that slowly crept under his mind. It was time for the last ditch effort and be insane. Murai can afford it. He always did.
“Very well, asshole. I will butcher you now, you bunch of bones in shiny armor!” He turned to face the captain who had arrived above him with its axes in mid-swing. Its target got away in time and was much faster than his slow speed even when the boy crawled.
“Can't even catch a crawling elf? Laughable.” Murai chuckled.
Captain viewed Murai as a threat, even after dozens of attacks that did almost no damage to it because of the armor alone. Against the boy, he had no qualms.
Against Anatidae, things can be much more complicated and better done carefully. Because of this, the captain was making steady changes and tactics, unlike the past foes that eyed the boy as their priority.
The time was getting away, yet the portal remained open without a second captain in sight.
Murai forgot about that. His mind focused on his current task. A chance to crack the armor around the few little bit separation plates that were hardly notable between the helmet and the shoulder. He noticed it thinly between his Blade attacks and brief notes of Sonar. Destroying the limbs was out of the question, and there wasn't even an option to push it out of the arena, as there was no edge, but a bunch of walls.
Undead Captain was quite a tough nut to crack, but with the boy crawling out of the picture, Murai had a certain plan that should work if he had enough time.
Well, it wasn't a question about time. He had to succeed. There was no other choice, albeit there was also no guarantee that his plans would work.
Undead Captains were very strong in their bony bodies, while this armor was just a way to create a very potent fortress that should be pretty expensive, and certainly not possible to manufacture in great numbers to make an army of them.
Its use was also limited because of weight and their bones that might be undying, shatterable, and let's not forget the lack of Vitality and proper regeneration. It was no flesh. Bones had their limits.
Murai eyed the captain with remembrance of his last kill. It was still fresh in his mind. He wasn't stupid to not consider what he understood about the last meeting, even if it was different than this one.
Considering it, using whatever means necessary to kill this fucker was a great Will to have. The boy crawled rather clumsily away, so it was a temporary solution, but it served its purpose because his crawling speed was up to the captain's steps. And it will be faster when Murai bothers its steps.
Focusing on the task at wing, Murai returned to his onslaught of magic, while his Blitz endured the swinging axes while faltering away. He deflected and defended because the cloth in his beak swayed and got smaller, so he opted for more careful tactics.
Striking like an annoying fly was like an art that Murai loved. Magic was good enough to be annoying, even if he couldn't crash these plates, but it certainly left a mark in other things.
Within a few minutes, he successfully failed to manage any cracks in its full-body armor. He knew he was far from that point without a proper Peak.
He should get the timing and situation right very soon, as the cloth, which served an unknown purpose, still held its physicality. For how long? He will have to use it sooner rather than later. After all, his mana wasn't closing on its limits because most of his spells were single-use alone.
He had no endless mana as he assumed. Even with the cache of this temple, his expenditure was massive like his Conjuring and Shaping. It was wonderful that his mana space and core survived all of this so far. Mindarch was impressed.
Yet, the cloth and his beak had to wait, until Murai found the right opportunity to accomplish their mission.
Feeling every ounce of his being focusing on this captain, Murai forgot everything. The captain was just mildly infuriated and annoyed at him because Murai stopped his steps.
So the captain swung its axes, and with a great addition to its momentum and weight, crashed against the beak. One went for the head, the other at the wings, yet it wasn't as successful as it preferred. Clashes always ended in a couple of after-matches: Murai backed or flew away, or he deflected each swing in learning chances thanks to his wings or beak.
Thankfully, it was possible because these axes weren't as great as the armor and they weren't very quick. If they were similar, Murai bet he would be dead in a single swing. Still, there was almost no win against those axes either, since they might not be the sharpest or best against his beak, but they were sturdy and still in one piece. They survived his Blitz so far, so they were pretty good on their own.
Murai took every attack with the least amount of trouble he could afford. Which was surprisingly wide range, including a couple of kicks, or shiny elbows that struck Murai aside, stumbling him on the ground.
However, he wasn't upset about them from the outside perspective. The curses in his mind were enough to act like a great meaningful therapy while his plans weren't going away as long as he had his beak and cloth.
He cycled between stumbling, flying, and going back against this damned captain dozens of times. This act continuously took its toll on his mana and body. It was closing on the limits of what was winnable, but he was using his Blades most of the time. Sonar gave him barely any flashes of chances, but the armor held not-so-complicated weakness.
With losses, Undead Captain moved all so closely towards the crawling elf that was slowly decreasing his speed because of bleeding and lack of stamina. Dancing with Murai, who was taking his distance by now, the situation was changing. By now, his Proper Mana Blades were the only tool that was of some use. Mana Spear or Arrows did nothing whatsoever. The Blade was better, sharper, and clearer to find a way inside.
Like the annoying fly he was, Murai continued without stopping, looking for a way to do one single attack with his Blitz that he was saving for proper timing. With each passing exchange, the captain soon realized that Murai was helpless and desperate. Suddenly, as if the switch turned off, it decided on something brave and stupid.
It turned its attention, no longer unwilling to care about Murai and his lacking means and fighting capabilities that no longer done a thing to its armor or axes. It went straight for the boy crawling half a dozen meters away.
That was a fatal mistake and something Murai cheered to see. He aimed for this, bid his time, and found the right angle to use one special ability that his Blitz held after accumulating numerous clashes, mana, and something else.
Called Fatality, it was an attack closing on the Peak's top channeling, but it was sharper, quicker, and less demanding, even if it was similar.
Fatality was part of the Blitz. It held a set of moves that Murai discovered and Mindarch stated in a rare information thanks to his various accomplishments after his brief stays in Ending Isles. In the easiest terms, it was an accumulated power that was taking all of the momentum, mana, and power to the thinnest point of his beak and a single second.
It could be a thrust, swipe, or a simple smack. That was what a Fatality was. It was a simple savage attack that could arrive in a blink without any channeling, yet striking under special accumulated cases.
It wasn't cheap or easy to accumulate enough power over the Blitz to unleash Fatality. He needed dozens of strikes to start it, while it had some amazing power and threshold that maybe needed even hundreds of clashes.
Murai experimented with it in the past Islands by intentionally not finishing some targets. Fatality had some stages, but nothing about it was concrete. Mindarch only mentioned that it was part of the Blitz and gave it a barebone description before chirping to go to other Islands.
Lisa said nothing about it because she had no idea what Fatality was. But she argued that after this Gate, he would get his answers from Mindarch or Will of the Battleworld.
Boostless, the aftermath of this Gate will be massive! The biggest Murai will see, or it shouldn't be that far from Gate 1. Lisa knew how worth it would be, or Murai could ask Mindarch about it by using his Question Mark.
He refused such an idea, opting to figure it out for free at the end of this Gate or later.
Watching the changing steps of this Undead Captain, Murai gleamed in delight. Using the crawling boy as bait, he crept behind with the gleaming tip of his beak. He used his Fatality in the right way, pouncing at the back of the captain, right at the part of the helmet that had been the target of his Sonar and Blades.
There were relatively small layers of plates, thanks to a gap between the shoulder and torso armor, acting as a base for the helmet that should be able to get off. Most plates around this section had a crisscrossed pattern, so it wasn't as if the bone was visible even underneath some layers. There was crafty protection, but some sections had fewer of them, or none at all in very little space.
Someone made this armor. It wouldn't just be created in one piece. It had parts, details, and craftsmanship behind it, which Murai decided to exploit. It sounded as hard as it was, but there was a latch set between the helmet and the gap.
That was the most suitable target that Murai had discovered.
At its back, swinging wings and letting go of all breaks in terms of his mana, Murai made his move. Fatality cracked into the gap, creating a bigger hole barely able to make something useful. Armor was still too good when metals folded around one another.
So Murai charged and blasted the Fatality with all strength he could, pushing his beak towards the neck by angling and wriggling his body and neck like a maddened duck. He was looking for the latch.
And he found it in a heartbeat. A latch that kept the helmet and the armor's internal structures in place. It was inside, hidden behind the first layer of the armor that was possible to turn away and handle the helmet.
It was a gamble. Murai was happy it paid off. Hopefully, the piece of cloth that went alongside his beak down will get its job done too.
His plan was yet to end.
He started the last gamble and exploded his core into flames.